Journey to the West(西游记)Chapter 14

43%

The Mind-Ape Returns to Truth
The Six Bandits Disappear Without Trace

Buddha is the mind, the mind is Buddha,
Mind and Buddha have always needed things.
When you know that there are no things and no mind
Then you are a Buddha with a true mind and a Dharma body.
A Dharma-bodied Buddha has no form;
A single divine light contains the ten thousand images.
The bodiless body is the true body.
The imageless image is the real image.
It is not material, not empty, and not non-empty;
It does not come or go, nor does it return.
It is not different nor the same, it neither is nor isn’t.
It can’t be thrown away or caught, nor seen or heard.
The inner and outer divine light are everywhere the same;
A Buddha-kingdom can be found in a grain of sand.
A grain of sand can hold a thousand worlds;
In a single body and mind, all dharmas are the same.
For wisdom, the secret of no-mind is essential,
To be unsullied and unobstructed is to be pure of karma.
When you do no good and do no evil,
You become a Kasyapa Buddha.

The terror-stricken Liu Boqin and Sanzang then heard another shout of “My master’s come.”

“That must be the old monkey who lives in a stone cell under this mountain shouting,” said the servants.

“Yes, yes,” said the high warden.

“What old monkey?” asked Sanzang, and the high warden replied, “This mountain used to be called Five Elements Mountain, and its name was only changed to Double Boundary Mountain when our Great Tang Emperor fought his Western campaign to pacify the country. I once heard an old man say that in the days when Wang Mang usurped the Han throne, Heaven sent down this mountain and crushed a monkey under it. This monkey doesn’t mind heat or cold and neither eats nor drinks. He’s guarded by a local tutelary god who gives him iron pellets when he’s hungry and molten copper when he’s thirsty. Although he’s been there since ancient times, he hasn’t died of cold or hunger. It must have been him shouting; there’s nothing for you to be afraid of, venerable sir. Let’s go down and have a look.” Sanzang had to follow him, leading his horse down the mountain.

A mile or two later they saw that there really was a monkey poking out his head out of a stone cell, and making desperate gestures with his outstretched hands as he shouted, “Master, why didn’t you come before? Thank goodness you’re here, thank goodness. If you get me out of here I guarantee that you’ll reach the Western Heaven.”

Do you know what the venerable monk saw when he went forward for a closer look?
A pointed mouth and sunken cheeks,
Fiery eyes with golden pupils.
His head was thick with moss,
And climbing figs grew from his ears.
By his temples grew little hair but a lot of grass,
Under his chin there was sedge instead of a beard.
Dirt between his eyebrows,
And mud on his nose
Made him an utter mess;
On his coarse fingers
And thick palms
Was filth in plenty.
He was so happy that he rolled his eyes
And made pleasant noises.
Although his tongue was nimble,
He couldn’t move his body.
He was the Great Sage of five hundred years ago,
Who today could not escape the net of Heaven.

High warden Liu showed great courage in going up to him, pulling away the grass that was growing beside his temples and the sedge under his chin, and asking, “What have you got to say?”

“I’ve got nothing to say,” the monkey replied. “You just tell that monk to come over here while I ask him a question.”

“What question do you want to ask me?” said Sanzang.

“Are you the fellow sent to the Western Heaven by the Emperor of the East to fetch the scriptures?” asked the monkey.

“Yes, I am,” Sanzang replied. “Why do you ask?”

“I am the Great Sage Equaling Heaven who wrecked the Heavenly Palace five hundred years ago. The Lord Buddha put me under this mountain for my criminal insubordination. Some time ago the Bodhisattva Guanyin went to the East on the Buddha’s orders to find someone who could fetch the scriptures. When I asked her to save me she told me that I was to give up evil-doing, return to the Buddha’s Law, and do all I could to protect the traveler when he went to the Western Paradise to worship Buddha and fetch the scriptures; she said that there’ll something in it for me when that’s done. Ever since then I’ve been waiting day and night with eager anticipation for you to come and save me, Master. I swear to protect you on your way to fetch the scriptures and to be your disciple.”

Sanzang, delighted to hear this, said, “Although you now have these splendid intentions and wish to become a monk thanks to the teaching of the Bodhisattva, I’ve no axe or chisel, so how am I to get you out?”

“There’s no need for axes or chisels. As long as you’re willing to save me, I can get myself out,” the monkey replied.

“I’m willing to save you,” Sanzang said, “but how are you going to get out?”

“On the top of this mountain there is a detention order by the Tathagata Buddha written in letters of gold. If you climb the mountain and tear it off, I’ll be straight out.” Accepting his suggestion, Sanzang turned round to ask Liu Boqin if he would go up the mountain with him.

“I don’t know whether he’s telling the truth or not,” said Boqin, at which the monkey shouted at the top of his voice, “It’s true. I wouldn’t dare lie about that.”

So Liu Boqin told his servants to lead the horse while he helped Sanzang up the mountain. By hanging on to creepers they managed to reach the summit, where they saw a myriad beams of golden light and a thousand wisps of propitious vapour coming from a large, square rock on which was pasted a paper seal bearing the golden words Om mani padme hum. Sanzang went up and knelt down before the rock, then read the golden words and bowed his head to the ground a number of times.

He looked to the West and prayed, “I am the believer Chen Xuanzang sent on imperial orders to fetch the scriptures. If I am fated to have a disciple, may I be able to tear off the golden words and release the divine monkey to come with me to the Vulture Peak. If I am not fated to have a disciple, and this monkey is an evil monster who has deceived me and will do me no good, then may I be unable to remove it.” When he had prayed he bowed again, after which he went up and gently tore the paper seal off.

A scented wind blew in his face and carried the paper up into the sky as a voice called, “I am the Great Sage’s guard. Now that his sufferings are over I am going back to see the Tathagata and hand in this seal.”

The startled Sanzang, Liu Boqin, and the rest of them all bowed to Heaven, then went down the mountain to the stone cell, where they said to the monkey, “The restriction order has been torn off, so you can come out.”

The delighted monkey said, “Master, please stand well clear so that I don’t give you a fright when I come out.”

On hearing this Liu Boqin took Sanzang and the rest of them to the East, and when they had covered some two or three miles they heard the monkey shout, “Further, further!” So Sanzang went much further until he was off the mountain. Then there was a great noise as the mountain split open.

As they were all shaking with terror, the monkey appeared kneeling stark naked in front of Sanzang’s horse and saying, “Master, I’m out.” He bowed four times to Sanzang, then jumped up, addressed Liu Boqin with a respectful noise, and said, “Thank you, elder brother, for escorting my master, and thank you too for weeding the grass off my face.” He then picked up the luggage and put it on the horse’s back. At the sight of him the horse felt so weak and trembling that it could not stay on its feet. Because the monkey had once been the Protector of the Horses and looked after the dragon steeds of Heaven, and mortal horses were terrified at the very sight of him.

Seeing that his intentions were indeed good and that he really was now a Buddhist, Sanzang asked him what was his surname.

“My surname’s Sun,” replied the Monkey King.

“I’ll give you a Buddhist name that I can call you by,” said Sanzang.

“There’s no need to trouble yourself,” said the Monkey King, “I’ve already got one: Sun Wukong—Monkey Awakened to Emptiness.”

“That’s just right for our sect,” exclaimed the monk. “As you look so much like a young novice, I’ll give you another name and call you Brother Monkey. Is that all right?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” said Sun Wukong, and from then on he was also called Brother Monkey, or Sun the Novice.

When he saw that Brother Monkey was determined to go, the high warden turned to Sanzang, chanted a noise of respect and said, “It’s splendid that you have got so good a disciple, venerable sir. He’ll certainly make the journey. I must now take my leave.”

Sanzang bowed to him in thanks, saying, “I have brought you a long way, and am deeply indebted to you. When you return home please convey my respects to your venerable mother and your wife; I caused them a lot of trouble, and hope that I shall be able to come and thank them on my return.” Boqin returned his bow, and with that they parted.

Brother Monkey asked Sanzang to mount the horse while he ambled ahead, stark naked, carrying the luggage on his back. Before long they were over the Double Boundary Mountain.

Suddenly a ferocious tiger rushed at them, roaring and lashing about with its tail. Sanzang on his horse was terrified. Brother Monkey, who was standing beside the path, put down the luggage and said happily, “Don’t be scared, master, it’s just bringing me my clothes.” He pulled a needle out of his ear and shook it in the wind, turning it into an iron cudgel as thick as a bowl.

“I haven’t used this little treasure in over five hundred years,” he said, holding it in his hand. “Today I’m bringing it out to get myself some clothes to wear.”

Just watch as he rushes at the tiger, shouting, “Where d’you think you’re going, wretch?” The tiger crouched in the dust, not daring to move, as the cudgel smashed into its head.

Thousands of drops of red brain and many a pearly piece of tooth flew everywhere, so terrifying Sanzang that he fell out of the saddle, biting on his finger and crying, “Heavens, the high warden had to fight for ages before killing the striped tiger the other day, but this Sun Wukong has smashed a tiger to pull with a single blow. He really is a tough’s tough.”

“Sit down for a moment, master, while I strip the clothes off him to wear on the journey,” said Brother Monkey as he dragged the tiger over.

“But he hasn’t got any clothes,” Sanzang protested.

“Don’t bother yourself about it, I know how to cope.” The splendid Monkey King pulled a hair from his body, breathed some magic breath on it, and said “Change!,” on which it turned into a pointed knife shaped like a cow’s ear. Cutting into the skin on the tiger’s belly, he took it all off in a single stroke, chopped off the head and claws, then held up the square hide to get an idea of its size.

“It’s on the big side,” he said, “so I could make two kilts out of it,” and with these words he took his knife and cut it in two. One piece he put away, and the other he wrapped round his waist to cover the lower half of his body and tied firmly with a creeper he pulled down from beside the path.

“Let’s go on, master, let’s go on,” he said. “The sewing can wait till we reach a house where we can borrow a needle and thread.” He pinched his iron cudgel to make it as small as a needle again, put it back in his ear, took the luggage on his back, and asked Sanzang to mount the horse.

As the two of them went along the venerable monk asked from the horse’s back, “Wukong, why has the iron cudgel you used to kill the tiger disappeared?”

“What you don’t know, master,” replied Brother Monkey with a laugh, “is that I got it from the dragon palace of the Eastern Sea, and that it’s called the Magic Iron to Hold the Bed of the Milky Way in Place or ‘As-You-Will Gold-Banded Cudgel’. When I raised my great rebellion against the Heavenly Palace in the old days it served me well. It can change into anything and be whatever size I want it to be. Just now I turned it into an embroidery needle and put it away in my ear. I only take it out when I need it.”

Concealing his delight at hearing this, Sanzang went on to ask, “Why didn’t that tiger move when it saw you? Why on earth did it let you hit it?”

“I can tell you in all truthfulness, master, that not just tigers but even dragons have to be on their best behavior when they meet me. I know a few tricks for putting them in their place and have the power to make rivers run backwards and stir up the seas. I can tell what things are really like from appearances alone, and sort out the truth behind what is said. When I want to make myself big I measure myself against the universe, and when I shrink I can be held on a downy hair. There’s no limit to the transformations I can perform, and nobody can tell when I’m going to vanish or when I’m going to reappear. There was nothing wonderful about skinning that tiger. Wait till I show you a thing or two.” This took a great load off Sanzang’s mind, and he whipped his horse on. As master and disciple went along their way talking together, the sun was sinking in the West, and they saw:

In the fiery glow of the setting sun
The clouds return to ends of the sky and the sea.
The birds on a thousand mountains chirrup and call,
Flying in flocks to the woods for the night.
The wild beasts go two by two;
All species return to their dens.
A crescent moon breaks through the dusk,
As countless points of starlight shimmer.

“You must hurry up, master, as it’s late,” said Monkey. “There must be a house in that clump of trees over there, so let’s get there as soon as possible to settle down for the night.” Sanzang whipped on his horse and galloped to the house, where he dismounted.

Brother Monkey put down the luggage, went up to the gate, and shouted, “Open up, open up.” An old man came out, leaning on a bamboo stick, and the gate creaked as he opened it. At the sight of Monkey’s ugly face and the tiger-skin wrapped around him, which made him look like the god of thunder, the old man was so terrified that his legs turned to jelly and his body went numb.

“A devil.... A devil,” he muttered deliriously.

Sanzang went up to support him, saying, “Don’t be afraid, aged benefactor. He’s no devil, he’s my disciple.” When the old man looked up and saw Sanzang’s pure face he felt steady on his feet at once, and he asked what monastery Sanzang was from, and why had he brought that evil-looking creature to his house.

“I come from the Tang Court,” said Sanzang, “and I am going to the Western Heaven to visit the Buddha and ask for the scriptures. As we were passing this way at nightfall we came to your mansion, good benefactor, to ask for a night’s lodging. We shall be off before dawn tomorrow. I very much hope that you will be able to help us.”

“You may be a Tang man,” the old fellow replied, “but that ugly brute certainly isn’t.”

“You’ve got no eyes in your head, you silly old man,” shrieked Brother Monkey. “He’s my master and I’m his disciple. I’m no Tang man or Spike man, I’m the Great Sage Equaling Heaven. Some of the people who live in this house must know me, and I’ve seen you before.”

“Where’ve you seen me?” the old man asked.

“Didn’t you gather firewood in front of my face and pick wild vegetables from my cheeks when you were a child?” said Sun Wukong.

“Rubbish,” retorted the old man.

“Where did you live and where did I live when I was supposed to gather firewood and wild vegetables in front of your face?”

“It’s you who’s talking rubbish, my child,” replied Sun Wukong. “You don’t know who I am, but I’m the Great Sage from the stone cell under the Double Boundary Mountain. Take another look and see if you can recognize me now.” The old man at last realized who he was and said, “I suppose you do look a bit like him, but however did you get out?” Sun Wukong told him the whole story of how the Bodhisattva had converted him and told him to wait till the Tang Priest came to take off the seal and release him. The old man went down on his knees and bowed his head, inviting the Tang Priest inside and calling his wife and children to come and meet him; they were all very happy when they heard what had happened.

When they had drunk tea he asked Sun Wukong, “How old are you, Great Sage?”

“How old are you, then?” said Sun Wukong.

“In my senile way I have reached a hundred and thirty.”

“Then you could be my remote descendant,” said Brother Monkey. “I can’t remember when I was born, but I spent over five hundred years under that mountain.”

“True, true,” remarked the old man, “I remember my grandfather saying that this mountain fell from heaven to crush a magical monkey, and you weren’t able to get out before now. When I saw you in my childhood, grass grew on your head and there was mud on your face, so I wasn’t afraid of you. But now that the mud and grass have gone you look thinner, and the tiger-skin round your waist makes you as near a devil as makes no difference.”

This conversation made everyone roar with laughter, and as he was a kind old man he had a vegetarian meal set out. When the meal was over Sanzang asked him his surname.

“Chen,” the old man replied. On hearing this, Sanzang raised his hands in greeting and said, “Venerable benefactor, you are of the same clan as myself.”

“Master,” protested Brother Monkey, “You’re called Tang, aren’t you, so how can you belong to the same clan as him?”

“My secular surname is Chen, and I am from Juxian Village, Hongnong Prefecture, Haizhou, in the Tang Empire. My Buddhist name is Chen Xuanzang. But as our Great Tang Emperor Taizong called me his younger brother and gave me the surname Tang, I am known as the Tang Priest.” The old fellow was delighted to hear that they shared a surname.

“Chen, old fellow,” said Monkey, “I’m afraid this will be putting your family out, but I haven’t washed for over five hundred years, so could you go and boil up some water for me and my master to have a bath before we set out again? Thank you.” The old man gave instructions for water to be boiled and a tub brought, and he lit the lamp.

When master and disciple had bathed they sat down by the lamp, and Brother Monkey asked once more, “Old Chen, there’s another thing I’d like to ask you: could you lend me a needle and thread?”

“Yes, of course,” the old man replied, sending his wife to fetch them and then handing them to Monkey. Monkey’s sharp eyes had observed his master take off a short white cotton tunic, which he did not put on again, so Monkey grabbed it and put it on himself. Then he took off his tiger skin, joined it up with a pleat, wrapped it round his waist again, tied it with a creeper, went up to his master, and asked, “How would you say these clothes compared with what I was wearing before?”

“Splendid, splendid,” replied Sanzang, “it makes you look quite like a real monk. If you don’t mind cast-offs,” he added, “you can go on wearing that tunic.” Sun Wukong chanted a “na-a-aw” of obedience and thanked him, then went off to find some hay for the horse. When all the jobs were finished, master and disciple went to bed.

Early the next morning Sun Wukong woke up and asked his master to set out. Sanzang dressed and told Monkey to pack the bedding and the rest of the luggage. They were just on the point of leaving when the old man appeared. He had prepared hot water for washing as well as breakfast. After breakfast they set out, Sanzang riding the horse and Brother Monkey leading. They ate when they were hungry and drank when they were thirsty, travelling by day and resting by night. Thus they went on until they realized it was early winter.

When the frost destroys the red leaves the woods are sparse;
On the ridge only pine and cypress flourish.
The unopened plum buds exhale a dark perfume,
Warming the short days,
A touch of spring.
When the chrysanthemum and lotus is finished, the wild tea blossoms.
By the cold bridge and the ancient trees the birds quarrel for branches.
In the twisting gully the waters of the spring run low,
Pale snow clouds drift across the sky.
The North wind blows strong,
Tugging at your-sleeves:
Who can bear the cold towards evening?

When master and disciple had been travelling for a long time they heard a whistle from beside the path, and six men rushed out with spears, swords, cutlasses, and strongbows.

“Where do you think you’re going, monk?” they roared. “If you give us your horse and luggage we’ll spare your life.” Sanzang fell from his horse, scared out of his wits and unable to utter a word. Brother Monkey helped him to his feet and said, “Don’t worry, master, it’s nothing serious. They’re come to bring us some clothes and our travelling expenses.”

“Are you deaf, Wukong?” the other asked. “They told us to give them our horse and luggage, so how can you ask them for clothes and money?”

“You look after the clothes, the luggage and the horse while I go and have a bash at them. We’ll see what happens.”

“A good hand is no match for two fists,” said Sanzang, “and a pair of fists is no match for four hands. They are six big men against little you, all by yourself. You can’t possibly have the nerve to fight them.”

The brave Brother Monkey did not stop to argue. Instead he stepped forward, folded his arms across his chest, bowed to the six bandits and said, “Why are you gentlemen obstructing our way?”

“We are mighty robber kings, benevolent lords of the mountain. We have been very famous for a long time, although you don’t seem to have heard of us. If you abandon your things at once, we’ll let you go on your way; but if there’s even a hint of a ‘no’ from you, we’ll turn your flesh into mincemeat and your bones into powder.”

“I too am a hereditary robber king, and have ruled a mountain for many years, but I’ve never heard of you gentlemen.”

“Since you don’t know our names, I’ll tell them to you: Eye-seeing Happiness, Ear-hearing Anger, Nose-smelling Love, Tongue-tasting Thought, Mind-born Desire, and Body-based Sorrow.” Sun Wukong laughed at them. “You’re just a bunch of small-time crooks. You can’t see that I’m your lord and master although I’m a monk, and you have the effrontery to get in our way. Bring out all the jewels you’ve stolen, and the seven of us can share them out equally. I’ll let you off with that.”

This made the bandits happy, angry, loving, thoughtful, desirous, and sorrowful respectively, and they all charged him, yelling, “You’ve got a nerve, monk. You’ve got nothing to put in the kitty, but you want to share our stuff.” Waving their spears and swords they rushed him, hacking wildly at his face. Seventy or eighty blows crashed down on him, but he simply stood in the middle of them, ignoring everything.

“What a monk!” the bandits said. “He’s a real tough nut.”

“I think we’ve seen enough of that,” said Brother Monkey with a smile. “Your hands must be tired after all that bashing. Now it’s my turn to bring out my needle for a bit of fun.”

“This monk must have been an acupuncturist,” said the bandits. “There’s nothing wrong with us. Why is he talking about needles?”

Taking the embroidery needle from his ear, Brother Monkey shook it in the wind, at which it became an iron cudgel as thick as a ricebowl. With this in his hand he said, “Stick around while I try my cudgel out.” The terrified bandits tried to flee in all directions, but Monkey raced after them, caught them all up, and killed every one of them. Then he stripped the clothes off them, took their money, and went back with his face wreathed in smiles.

“Let’s go, master; I’ve wiped those bandits out,” he said.

“Even though they were highwaymen, you’re really asking for trouble,” Sanzang replied. “Even if they had been arrested and handed over to the authorities, they wouldn’t have been sentenced to death. You may know a few tricks, but it would be better if you’d simply driven them away. Why did you have to kill them all? Even taking a man’s life by accident is enough to stop someone from becoming a monk. A person who enters the religious life

Spares the ants when he sweeps the floor,
Covers the lamps to save the moth.

What business did you have to slaughter the lot of them, without caring which of them were the guilty and which were innocent? You haven’t a shred of compassion or goodness in you. This time it happened in the wilds, where nobody will be able to trace the crime. Say someone offended you in a city and you turned murderous there. Say you killed and wounded people when you went berserk with that club of yours. I myself would be involved even though I’m quite innocent.”

“But if I hadn’t killed them, they’d have killed you, master,” protested Sun Wukong.

“I am a man of religion, and I would rather die than commit murder,” said Sanzang. “If I’d died, there’d only have been me dead, but you killed six of them, which was an absolute outrage. If the case were taken to court, you couldn’t talk your way out of this even if the judge were your own father.”

“To tell you the truth, master, I don’t know how many people I killed when I was the monster who ruled the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit,” said Sun Wukong, “but if I’d acted your way I’d never have become the Great Sage Equaling Heaven.”

“It was precisely because you acted with such tyrannical cruelty among mortals and committed the most desperate crimes against Heaven that you got into trouble five hundred years ago,” retorted Sanzang. “But now you have entered the faith, you’ll never reach the Western Heaven and never become a monk if you don’t give up your taste for murder. You’re too evil, too evil.”

Monkey, who had never let himself be put upon, flared up at Sanzang’s endless nagging.

“If you say that I’ll never become a monk and won’t ever reach the Western Heaven, then stop going on at me like that. I’m going back.”

Before Sanzang could reply, Monkey leapt up in a fury, shouting, “I’m off.” Sanzang looked up quickly, but he was already out of sight. All that could be heard was a whistling sound coming from the East. Left on his own, the Priest nodded and sighed to himself with great sadness and indignation.

“The incorrigible wretch,” he reflected. “Fancy disappearing and going back home like that just because I gave him a bit of a telling-off. So that’s that. I must be fated to have no disciples or followers. I couldn’t find him now even if I wanted to, and he wouldn’t answer if I called him. I must be on my way.” So he had to strive with all his might to reach the West, looking after himself with nobody to help.

Sanzang had no choice but to gather up the luggage and tie it on the horse. He did not ride now. Instead, holding his monastic staff in one hand and leading the horse by the reins with the other, he made his lonely way to the West. Before he had been travelling for long he saw an old woman on the mountain path in front of him. She was holding an embroidered robe, and a patterned hat was resting upon it. As she came towards him he hurriedly pulled the horse to the side of the path to make room for her to pass.

“Where are you from, venerable monk,” the old woman asked, “travelling all alone and by yourself?”

“I have been sent by the great King of the East to go to the West to visit the Buddha and ask him for the True Scriptures,” he replied.

“The Buddha of the West lives in the Great Thunder Monastery in the land of India, thirty-six thousand miles away from here. You’ll never get there, just you and your horse, without a companion or disciple.”

“I did have a disciple, but his nature was so evil that he would not accept a little reproof I administered to him and disappeared into the blue,” said Sanzang.

“I have here an embroidered tunic and a hat inset with golden patterns that used to be my son’s,” the woman said, “but he died after being a monk for only three days. I’ve just been to his monastery to mourn him and say farewell to his master, and I was taking this tunic and this hat home to remember the boy by. But as you have a disciple, venerable monk, I’ll give them to you.”

“Thank you very much for your great generosity, but as my disciple has already gone, I couldn’t accept them.”

“Where has he gone?”

“All I heard was a whistling sound as he went back to the East.”

“My home isn’t far to the East from here,” she said, “so I expect he’s gone there. I’ve also got a spell called True Words to Calm the Mind, or the Band-tightening Spell. You must learn it in secret, and be sure to keep it to yourself. Never leak it to anyone. I’ll go and catch up with him and send him back to you, and you can give him that tunic and hat to wear. If he’s disobedient again, all you have to do is recite the spell quietly. That will stop him committing any more murders or running away again.”

Sanzang bowed low to thank her, at which she changed into a beam of golden light and returned to the East. He realized in his heart that it must have been the Bodhisattva Guanyin who had given him the spell, so he took a pinch of earth as if he were burning incense and bowed in worship to the East most reverently. Then he put the tunic and hat in his pack, sat down beside the path, and recited the True Words to Calm the Mind over and over again until he knew them thoroughly, and had committed them to his memory.

Let us turn to Sun Wukong, who after leaving his master went straight back to the Eastern Ocean on his somersault cloud. Putting his cloud away, he parted the waters and went straight to the undersea palace of crystal. His approach had alarmed the dragon king, who came out to welcome him and took him into the palace, where they sat down.

When they had exchanged courtesies the dragon king said, “I’m sorry that I failed to come and congratulate you on the end of your sufferings, Great Sage. I take it that you are returning to your old cave to put your immortal mountain back in order.”

“That’s what I wanted to do,” Monkey replied. “But I’ve become a monk instead.”

“A monk? How?” the dragon king asked.

“The Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea converted me. She taught me to work for a good reward later by going to the West with the Tang Priest from the East, visiting the Buddha, and becoming a monk. And my name has been changed to Brother Monkey.”

“Congratulations, congratulations,” said the dragon king. “You’ve turned over a new leaf and decided to be good. But in that case why have you come back to the East instead of going West?” Monkey laughed.

“Because that Tang Priest doesn’t understand human nature. He started nagging away at me about a few small-time highwaymen I killed, and said that everything about me was wrong. You know how I can’t stand people going on at me, so I left him to come home to my mountain. I looked in on you first to ask for a cup of tea.”

“Delighted to oblige,” said the dragon king, and his dragon sons and grandsons came in with some fragrant tea which they presented to Monkey.

When he had drunk his tea, Monkey looked round and saw a picture called, “Presenting the Shoe at the Yi Bridge” hanging on the wall behind him.

“What’s that a view of?” asked Monkey.

“You wouldn’t know about it because it happened after your time,” the dragon king replied. “It’s called ‘Presenting the Shoe Three Times at the Yi Bridge.’”

“What’s all that about?” Monkey asked.

“The Immortal is Lord Yellow Stone, and the boy is Zhang Liang, who lived in Han times,” the dragon king replied. “Lord Yellow Stone was sitting on the bridge when suddenly he dropped one of his shoes under it and told Zhang Liang to fetch it for him. The boy Zhang Liang did so at once, and knelt down to present it to him. Lord Yellow Stone did this three times, and because Zhang Liang never showed a trace of arrogance or disrespect, Lord Yellow Stone was touched by his diligence. One night he gave Zhang Liang some heavenly books and told him to support the Han cause. Later he won victories hundreds of miles away through his calculations within the walls of his tent. When peace came he resigned his office and went back to roam on his mountain with Master Red Pine and achieve the Way of Immortality through enlightenment. Great Sage, if you don’t protect the Tang Priest with all your might, and if you reject his instruction, then you might as well stop trying to win yourself a good later reward, because it will mean you’re only an evil Immoral after all.” Monkey hummed and hawed, but said nothing.

“Great Sage,” said the dragon king, “you must make your mind up. Don’t ruin your future for the sake of any easy life now.”

“Enough said. I’ll go back and look after him,” replied Sun Wukong. The dragon king was delighted.

“In that case I shan’t keep you. I ask you in your mercy not to leave your master waiting for long.” Being thus pressed to go, Monkey left the sea palace, mounted his cloud, and took leave of the dragon king.

On his way he met the Bodhisattva Guanyin. “What are you doing here, Sun Wukong?” she asked. “Why did you reject the Tang Priest’s teaching and stop protecting him?” Brother Monkey frantically bowed to her from his cloud and replied, “As you had predicted, Bodhisattva, a monk came from the Tang Empire who took off the seal, rescued me, and made me his disciple. I ran away from him because he thought I was wicked and incorrigible, but now I’m going back to protect him.”

“Hurry up then, and don’t have any more wicked thoughts.” With that they each went their separate ways.

A moment later Monkey saw the Tang Priest sitting gloomily beside the path. He went up to him and said, “Why aren’t you travelling, master? What are you still here for?” Sanzang looked up.

“Where have you been?” he asked. “I couldn’t move without you, so I had to sit here and wait till you came back.”

“I went to visit the Old Dragon King of the Eastern Sea to ask him for some tea,” Monkey replied.

“Disciple, a religious man shouldn’t tell lies. How can you say that you went to drink tea at the dragon king’s place when you haven’t been gone two hours?”

“I can tell you quite truthfully,” replied Monkey with a smile, “that with my somersault cloud I can cover thirty-six thousand miles in a single bound. That’s how I got there and back.”

“When I spoke to you a little severely you resented it and went off in a huff,” said Sanzang. “It was all right for a clever person like you—you begged yourself some tea. But I couldn’t go, and had to stay here hungry. You ought to be sorry for me.”

“If you’re hungry, master, I’ll go and beg you some food,” suggested Monkey.

“No need,” his master replied, “there are still some dry provisions in my bundle that the high warden’s mother gave me. Take that bowl and fetch some water. When we’ve eaten some of it we can be on our way.”

Opening the bundle, Brother Monkey found some scones made of coarse flour, which he took out and gave to his master. He also noticed the dazzling brocade tunic and the hat with inlaid golden patterns.

“Did you bring this tunic and hat with you from the East?” he asked. Sanzang had to make something up on the spot.

“I used to wear them when I was young. With that hat on you can recite scriptures without ever having been taught them, and if you wear that tunic you can perform the rituals without any practice.”

“Dear master, please let me wear them,” Monkey pleaded.

“I don’t know whether they’ll fit you, but if you can get them on, you can wear them.” Monkey took off the old white tunic, put the brocade one on instead, and found that it was a perfect fit. Then he put the hat on his head. As soon as he had the hat on, Sanzang stopped eating and silently recited the Band-tightening Spell.

“My head aches, my head aches,” cried Brother Monkey, but his master went on and recited the spell several times more. Monkey, now rolling in agony, tore the hat to shreds, and Sanzang stopped reciting the spell for fear he would break the golden band. The moment the spell stopped the pain finished. Reaching up to feel his head, Monkey found something like a golden wire clamped so tightly around it that he could not wrench or snap it off. It had already taken root there. He took the needle out of his ear, forced it inside the band, and pulled wildly at it. Sanzang, again frightened that he would snap it, started to recite the spell once more. The pain was so bad this time that Monkey stood on his head, turned somersaults, and went red in the face and ears. His eyes were popping and his body went numb. Seeing the state he was in, Sanzang had to stop, and the pain stopped again too.

“Master,” said Monkey, “What a curse you put on me to give me a headache like that.”

“I didn’t put a curse on you, I recited the Band-tightening Spell,” Sanzang replied.

“Say it again and see what happens,” said Monkey, and when Sanzang did as he asked, Monkey’s head ached again. “Stop, stop,” he shouted, “the moment you started reciting it my head ached. Why did you do it?”

“Will you accept my instruction now?” Sanzang asked.

“Yes,” Monkey replied.

“Will you misbehave again in future?”

“I certainly won’t,” said Monkey.

Although he had made this verbal promise, he was still nurturing evil thoughts, and he shook his needle in the wind till it was as thick as a ricebowl. He turned on the Tang Priest, and was on the point of finishing him off when the terrified Sanzang recited the spell two or three more times.

The monkey dropped his cudgel and fell to the ground, unable to raise his arm, “Master,” he shouted, “I’ve seen the light. Stop saying the spell, please stop.”

“How could you have the perfidy to try to kill me?” asked Sanzang.

“I’d never have dared,” said Brother Monkey, adding, “who taught you that spell, master?”

“An old lady I met just now,” replied Sanzang. Monkey exploded with rage.

“Tell me no more,” he said, “I’m sure and certain the old woman was that Guanyin. How could she do this to me? Just you wait. I’m going to the Southern Sea to kill her.”

“As she taught me this spell,” Sanzang replied, “she’s bound to know it herself. If you go after her and she recites it, that will be the end of you.” Seeing the force of his argument, Monkey changed his mind and gave up the idea of going. He knelt down and pleaded pitifully, “Master, she’s used this to force me to go with you to the West. I shan’t go to make trouble for her, and you must recite scriptures instead of saying that spell all the time. I promise to protect you, and I shall always be true to this vow.”

“In that case you’d better help me back on the horse,” Sanzang replied. Monkey, who had been plunged into despair, summoned up his spirits, tightened the belt round his brocade tunic, got the horse ready, gathered up the luggage, and hurried off towards the West. If you want to know what other stories there are about the journey, then listen to the explanation in the next installment.

← Previous chapter NNext chapter →