In Bhiksuland the Hidden Gods Are Sent on an Errand of Mercy
In the Palace the Monster Is Revealed and the Way Discussed
A single thought at once disturbs a hundred monsters;
The hardest efforts are all to no avail.
One can only wash away each speck of dust,
Tidy everything and polish well.
Sweep all causation away and come to nirvana;
Waste no time and destroy the thousand demons.
You surely will be free from obstructions,
And rise to the Daluo Heaven when your deeds are done.
The story tells how the Great Sage Sun used all his ingenuity to fetch the Tathagata to subdue the demons and rescue Sanzang and the other two disciples, after which they left the city of Leonia and headed West. When they had been travelling for several more months it was winter, and this is what could be seen:
The plum on the ridge was like broken jade
As the water in the pond slowly turned to ice.
All the red autumn leaves had fallen,
And the green of the pine looked fresher than ever.
The pale and scudding clouds were on the point of snowing;
Flat lay the withered grass upon the hills.
As far as the eye could see was chilly brightness
As the unseen cold went right into the bone.
Master and disciples braved the cold, sleeping out in the rain and dining off the wind, until as they were walking along another walled and moated city came into sight. “What sort of place is that over there, Wukong?” Sanzang asked Monkey, who replied, “We’ll know when we get there. If it’s the capital of a Western kingdom we’ll have to present our passport to be inspected and returned. If it’s a prefecture or county town we’ll go straight through.” Before master and disciples could finish their conversation they had arrived at the city gates.
Sanzang dismounted and the four of them went in through the curtain wall outside the gates. Noticing an old soldier sleeping shielded from the wind under the South-facing wall, Brother Monkey went up to him, shook him and said, “Sir!”
When the old soldier awoke with a start to open his bleary eyes and see Monkey he fell to his knees to kowtow and say, “My Lord!”
“There’s no need for such alarm,” said Monkey. “I’m no evil god, so why call me your lord?”
“Aren’t you Lord Thunder God?” the old soldier asked, kowtowing again.
“What a thing to say,” Monkey replied. “We’re monks from the East on our way to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven. We’ve just arrived here. Could I ask what this place is called?” This answer finally eased the old soldier’s mind.
With a yawn he got back on his feet, stretched and said, “Please forgive me, reverend gentlemen. This country used to be called Bhiksuland but its name has been changed to Boytown.”
“Do you have a king?” Monkey asked.
“Yes, yes,” the old soldier replied.
Monkey then turned to report to the Tang Priest, “This country used to be called Bhiksuland but the name’s been altered to Boytown, though I don’t know what the change signifies.”
“If it was Bhiksuland before why is it Boytown now?” the Tang Priest wondered.
“I expect there was a King Bhiksu who died,” said Pig, “and they changed the name to Boytown when a boy succeeded him.”
“Impossible,” said the Tang Priest, “impossible. Let’s go in and make some enquiries in the street.”
“That’s right,” said Friar Sand. “The old soldier wouldn’t have known anyhow, and on top of that elder brother gave him such a fright that he talked nonsense. We’ll ask some more questions in the city.”
When they had gone through the third pair of gates they came to a great market on a main street. The people were well-dressed and their bearing distinguished.
A hubbub of voices came from bar and music hall;
High hung the curtains outside splendid shop and teahouse.
Business was good in firms by the thousand;
Wealth flowed free in shopping street and market.
The dealers in metal and silk were swarming like ants,
Caring only for money while struggling for fame and wealth.
With these noble manners, magnificent scenery
And peaceful waters it was a time of prosperity.
The master and his three disciples, who were leading the horse and carrying the baggage, spent some time walking around the streets as they admired the general air of prosperity. In the entrance to every house there was a basketwork coop of the sort geese are kept in. “Disciples,” said Sanzang, “why do all the people here put coops in their gateways?” Pig’s response to this was to look around and see that there were indeed lines of coops hung with satin curtains of many colours. “Master,” said the idiot with a smile, “today must be a lucky one for weddings and celebrations. Everybody’s having a wedding.”
“Nonsense,” said Monkey. “How could every single family possibly be having a wedding? There must be some other reason for this. I’m going over to take a look.”
“You’re not to go,” said Sanzang, grabbing hold of him. “You look so ugly that people might take offence.”
“I’ll go as something else,” Brother Monkey replied.
Making a spell with his hands the splendid Great Sage said the words of a spell, shook himself, turned into a bee, spread his wings, flew to one of the coops and slipped in through the curtains to take a look. A little boy was sitting inside. Monkey looked inside another family’s coop and there was a child in that too. He inspected eight or nine households and all of them had a child. All were boys: there was not a single girl. Some were sitting up in their coops and playing and some were crying; some were eating fruit and some were snoozing.
His inspection over, Monkey turned back into his normal self and reported to the Tang Priest, “There are little boys in the coops. The oldest is under six and the youngest only four. I don’t know why they’re here.” Sanzang wondered what the explanation could be.
Turning a comer they saw the gateway to an official building. It was a government hostel with golden pavilions. The venerable elder was delighted.
“Disciples,” he said, “we will go into this hostel. We can find out where we are, give the horse a rest and put up for the night.”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Friar Sand. “Let’s go straight in.” This the four of them happily did, a fact that the officials there reported to the hostel’s superintendent.
When the superintendent had led them inside greetings had been exchanged and they had all sat down, the superintendent asked, “Where have you come from, reverend sir?”
“I am a monk sent by the Great Tang in the East to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven,” Sanzang replied. “Now that we have arrived at this excellent establishment I will of course present my passport for inspection. Could we, I wonder, impose on your hospitality for the night?”
The superintendent ordered tea, and when it had been drank he saw to their entertainment and told the staff who were on duty to look after the pilgrims. After thanking him for this Sanzang went on to ask, “Could we go to the palace today to see His Majesty and have our passport inspected?”
“That will not be possible this evening,” the superintendent replied. “It will have to wait until tomorrow morning. I hope that you will spend a comfortable night in this humble hostel.”
A little later, when all had been prepared, the superintendent of the hostel invited the four travelers to take a vegetarian meal with him. He also told his staff to sweep out the guest rooms for them to spend the night in. Sanzang expressed endless gratitude. When they were all seated the venerable elder said, “I wonder if I could trouble you for information on something that I cannot understand. How do you raise children in your
country?”
“People are the same the whole world over, just as there are never two suns in the sky,” the superintendent replied. “Children are born when their time comes after the father’s seed has joined with the mother’s blood and they have been in the womb for ten lunar months. After they are born they are suckled for three years and their bodies gradually grow. Everybody knows that.”
“What you tell me is no different from how they grow in my humble country,” Sanzang replied. “But when we came into the city we saw a goose coop with a little boy inside in front of every house in the street. This is something I cannot understand, which is why I ventured to raise the question.”
“Ignore that, reverend sir,” whispered the hostel superintendent into Sanzang’s ear. “Don’t ask about it. Put it out of your mind. Don’t even mention it. Would you like to settle down for the night before starting your journey again tomorrow morning?” Sanzang’s response was to seize hold of the superintendent and demand an explanation.
“Watch your words,” the superintendent replied, shaking his head and wagging his finger, but Sanzang was not going to drop the matter. He insisted on being told all the details. The superintendent had no choice but to dismiss all the staff on duty.
When they were alone under the lamplight he whispered to Sanzang, “The goose coops you asked about are there because our king is a bad ruler. Why ever do you have to keep asking about it?”
“How is he a bad ruler?” Sanzang asked. “I will not be able to set my mind at ease until you give me an explanation.”
“This country is really called Bhiksuland,” the superintendent replied. “Boytown is only what the people have started calling it. Three years ago an old man dressed as a Taoist came here with a girl just fifteen years old. She was a ravishing beauty, just like a Bodhisattva Guanyin. He presented her to our present king, who was so smitten by her charms that she became the favorite of all his women. She was given the title Queen Beauty. For some time now he’s had no eyes for any of his other queens or consorts. He’s so insatiable that he’s been at it day and night. The result is nervous exhaustion and physical collapse. He’s eating and drinking next to nothing. He might die at any moment. The Royal College of Physicians has tried every possible medicine without any success. The Taoist who presented the girl to the king was rewarded with the title of Elder of the Nation. He has a secret foreign formula for making people live a great deal longer. He’s been to ten continents and the three magic islands to collect the ingredients. Everything is ready. The only problem is that it needs a terrible adjuvant to help it—a potion made from the hearts of 1,111 little boys. When he’s taken it he’ll have a thousand years of vigorous life ahead of him. All the little boys being kept in the coops are the ones that have been chosen. Their parents are so afraid of the king that none of them dares weep. That’s why they’ve put out the story that this place is now called Boytown. When you go to the palace tomorrow morning, reverend sir, you must only present your passport to be inspected and returned. Say nothing about any of this.” When he had said all this he left them.
Sanzang was so horrified by what he had heard that his bones turned soft and his muscles went numb. He could not help the tears that streamed down his face as he started sobbing aloud. “Foolish king,” he exclaimed, “foolish king. Your lechery has ruined your health, and now you are planning to destroy all those young lives. How could you? What misery! The pain of it all is killing me.” There is a poem about it that goes:
The wicked monarch’s folly makes him forget the truth;
His health is ruined by his unbridled lusts.
Pursuing eternal life by killing little children,
He slaughters his subjects to avoid Heaven’s punishment.
This is all more than the merciful monk can bear:
He cannot accept the official’s worldly wisdom.
Long are his sighs as he weeps in the lamplight;
Stricken with grief is the Buddha worshipper.
“Master,” said Pig, going up to him, “what’s the matter with you? What you’re doing is like taking a stranger’s coffin to your own home and weeping over it. Don’t upset yourself like that. As the rhyme goes,
When a monarch insists that his subjects will die
None that are loyal to live will aspire;
When a father commands his own offspring to perish
Any dutiful son will most surely expire.
The people he’s going to kill are his own subjects. What are they to you? Take off your clothes, get some sleep and ‘don’t worry about the ancients.’”
“Disciple,” said Sanzang, his tears still flowing, “you haven’t a shred of compassion. The most important thing for us monks as we accumulate good deeds is to help others. How could this deluded king be so set in his wickedness? Never have I ever heard that eating human hearts could prolong life. How could something so terrible not grieve me?”
“Don’t grieve so, Master,” said Friar Sand. “When you present our passport tomorrow and seethe king you can talk to him about it. Even if he doesn’t accept your advice you’ll be able to see what the Elder of the Nation looks like. Probably he’s an evil spirit who’s thought all this up because he wants to eat human hearts.”
“Wujing is right,” said Brother Monkey. “Go to bed now, Master, and tomorrow morning I’ll go to court with you to see what this Elder of the Nation is like. If he’s human he’s probably a heretic who doesn’t follow orthodox ways but believes in drugs, and I’ll convert him with the essential teachings of intrinsic nature. If he’s an evil spirit I’ll catch him, show the king what he is, and urge the king to control his desires and build up his strength. Whatever happens I won’t let him kill those children.”
As soon as he heard this Sanzang bowed to Monkey with great courtesy and said, “What an excellent suggestion! But when we see the deluded king we must say nothing about this in case he thinks we are guilty of not knowing our place and spreading slander. What could we do if that happened?”
“I’ve got my magic powers,” Monkey replied. “First of all I’m going to get the little boys in the coops away from the city so that he’ll have nobody to take the hearts out of tomorrow. The local officials will of course report this and the king will be bound either to order a discussion with the Elder of the Nation or else to demand more information. This will give us a chance to submit our memorial without getting ourselves into trouble.” Sanzang was very pleased.
“How are you going to get the children out of the town now?” he asked. “If you really can rescue them you will be doing the greatest of good deeds, worthy disciple. But do it quick, because if you lose any time you may be too late.”
Summoning up his might Monkey stood up and gave Pig and Friar Sand their parting instructions: “Sit here with the master while I do my stuff. If you notice a magical wind blowing that’ll be the boys leaving the city.”
Sanzang and the other two disciples said, “We invoke the Saviour Bhaisajya-guru Buddha. We invoke the Saviour Bhaisajya-guru Buddha.”
Once outside the doors the Great Sage whistled, rose into mid-air, made a spell with his hands and said the magic words, called out “Om pure dharma world,” and summoned the city god, the local deities, the officiating immortals, the Protectors of the Faith of the four quarters and the center, the Four Duty Gods, the Six Dings and the Six Jias and the Guardians of the Teaching.
They all came to him where he was in midair, bowed and said, “Great Sage, what is the urgent business on which you have summoned us in the middle of the night?”
“My journey has brought me to Bhiksuland,” Monkey replied, “where the king is a bad one who believes in evil doctrines. He wants to take the hearts out of little boys to make the adjuvant to a medicine that he hopes will make him live for ever. My master finds this utterly horrible and has asked me to rescue the boys and destroy the demon. That is why I’ve asked all you gentlemen here. I want you to use your magical powers to lift all the little boys, coops and all, over the city wall into a mountain hollow or somewhere deep in a forest. Keep them there for a day or two. Give them fruit to eat and don’t let them go hungry. Keep watch over them in secret and don’t frighten them or make them cry. When I’ve eliminated the evil, brought the country back to good government and persuaded the king to mend his ways and am about to leave, you must bring them back to me.”
The gods all listened to their orders then brought their clouds down to land so that they could use their magical powers. The city was filled with a blustering negative wind that brought with it an all-pervasive and sinister fog.
All the stars in the sky were obscured by the negative wind;
The moon was blacked out by the magical fog for many a mile.
At first the wind was gusty,
And then it blew like a hurricane.
When it was gusting
All ran to the gateways to rescue their children;
Then in the hurricane
They wanted to save their own flesh and blood in the coops.
The air turned so chilly that none dared show their heads;
The cold was so piercing that clothes froze like iron.
Vainly did parents look all around;
The families all were stricken with grief.
The sinister wind blew right across the land
As the boys in their baskets were carried off by the gods.
Although that was a night of bereavement and grief
Joy was coming to all the next day.
There is another poem about it that goes:
Compassion has always been strong in the Sakyamuni faith;
The achievement of goodness explains the Great Vehicle.
A multitude of holy ones all accumulate goodness;
For the Three Refuges and Five Precepts harmony is needed.
The land of Bhiksu was not to be ruined by its monarch
When a thousand little boys were to forfeit their lives.
Monkey and his master had brought them to safety,
Which conferred more merit than the Great Wisdom.
By the third watch of the night the gods had carried all the coops off and hidden them in all the safe places. Monkey then landed his auspicious light and went straight back to the government hostel, where to his secret delight he could hear the other three still chanting, “We invoke the Saviour Bhaisajya-guru Buddha.”
“Master,” he said, going up to them, “I’m back. What was the negative wind like?”
“Terrific,” said Pig.
“How did the rescue of the children go?” Sanzang asked.
“Every single one of them has been saved,” Monkey replied. “They’ll all be brought back when we set out again.” The master thanked him over and over again before finally going to sleep.
When Sanzang awoke at dawn he dressed himself in his best vestments and said, “Wukong, I am going to the early audience to present our passport.”
“If you go by yourself, Master,” Monkey replied, “I’m afraid that you won’t be able to manage. Let me go with you. Then I’ll be able to find out about the evil in this country.”
“If you go you will refuse to pay homage,” said Sanzang, “and the king may well take it amiss.”
“I won’t be seen,” said Monkey. “I’ll go with you in secret and protect you.” This pleased Sanzang very much. He had told Pig and Friar Sand to look after the luggage and horse and was just about to set out when the superintendent of the hostel came in to see him. The superintendent was struck by the difference between vestments he wore this day compared with what he had been wearing the day before.
His cassock was of brocade, set with exotic gems;
On his head he wore a gold-topped Vairocana mitre.
He held a nine-ringed monastic staff
And hid a divine radiance in his breast.
The passport was fastened tightly to his body,
Wrapped in brocade inside another cloth.
He moved like an arhat come down to earth;
His face was truly that of a living Buddha.
When the superintendent had greeted Sanzang courteously he murmured into his ear advice against meddling in matters that were none of his business. Sanzang nodded and assented. The Great Sage stole to a place by the gate, said the words of a spell, shook himself and turned into the tiniest of insects that flew with a high-pitched hum to Sanzang’s mitre.
Sanzang left the government hostel and headed straight for the palace.
Arriving at the palace gates Sanzang saw a eunuch officer to whom he bowed and said, “This humble monk has been sent by the Great Tang in the East to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven. Now that I have reached your distinguished country I must present my passport to be inspected and returned. I beg Your Excellency to report this to His Majesty.” This the eunuch duly did.
The king was very pleased. “A monk from afar must be a holy man,” he said, ordering that Sanzang be asked in. When the venerable elder had paid his respects at the foot of the steps of the throne hall he was invited to enter the hall and take a seat. Sanzang thanked the king and sat down. The king looked weak and enervated. When he raised his hands to make a polite salutation he could not do so properly, and he was incapable of continuous speech. His right was so blurred that he had to make several attempts to read the document that Sanzang handed to him before he could sign, seal and return it to the Tang Priest, who put it away again.
The king was just about to ask why they were fetching the scriptures when one of his aides reported, “His Excellency the Elder of the Nation is here.” Leaning on one of his young eunuch attendants the king struggled down from his throne to greet the Elder. Sanzang hastily got to his feet, stood to one side and looked round to see that the Elder of the Nation was an aged Taoist who advanced with a swagger towards the steps of the throne.
On his head he wore a goose-yellow silken cap,
Round his body a scented cloak of silk and crane feathers,
And at his waist a triple sash of blue velvet.
On his feet were sandals of hemp and grasscloth;
At the top of his rattan stick coiled a dragon.
The pouch at his chest was embroidered with dragon, phoenix and flowers.
His jadelike face radiated well-being;
A gray beard blew about his chin.
Flames shot from golden pupils
In eyes even longer than his eyebrows.
Clouds followed his steps
As he wandered through incense-laden mists.
The officials below the steps received him with obeisances,
Announcing the presence of the Elder of the Nation.
When he reached the throne hall the Elder of the Nation performed no obeisance but arrogantly strode straight in. The king leaned forward in a bow and said, “We are most fortunate that you have condescended to make your immortal way here, Elder of the Nation.” He ordered that an embroidered stool be set on his left for the
Elder to sit on.
Taking a step forward Sanzang bowed and said, “Greetings, Elder of the Nation.” The Elder sat majestically on his seat, but instead of returning Sanzang’s courtesy he turned to the king and asked, “Where’s this monk from?”
“He has been sent by the Tang court in the East to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven,” the king replied, “and is here to present his passport for inspection.”
“The road West is dark and dismal,” said the Elder of the Nation with a smile. “There’s nothing good about it.”
“The West has always been a land of bliss,” Sanzang replied. “How could it not be good?”
“There is an old saying we once heard that monks are disciples of the Buddha,” said the king. “I wonder whether it is true that by being a monk and turning to the Buddha one can live for ever.” When Sanzang heard this he put his hands together and replied: “One who becomes a monk gets away from all kinds of causation. By understanding nature he learns that all dharmas are empty. Great wisdom is casual and drifts in non-living. The true secret is hidden; it wanders in extinction. When the three worlds are empty all origins are ordered; when the six sense-organs are purified all troubles are finished. To be resolute, single-minded and enlightened one must understand the heart. When the heart is purified it can shine alone; when the heart is sincere all regions are imbued with it. The true appearance has neither deficiency nor excess and can be seen in life. The images of illusion always decay. Why seek what is beyond one’s lot? The way to enter meditation is through meritorious deeds and by sitting in silence; the root of cultivating one’s conduct truly is charity and kindness. Great skill appears as clumsiness and knows that all deeds are achieved through inaction. The finest plans involve no calculation; everything must be left alone. It only needs one heart not to move for every action to be perfect. It is truly absurd to try to strengthen the male by drawing on the female and nonsensical to try to extend one’s years by taking elixirs. The only essential is that all the causation of every speck of dust must be discarded and that every type of matter should be empty. Live plain and pure; let your desires be few. Then naturally you will enjoy life without end for ever.”
When the Elder of the Nation heard this he laughed at it. “Phooey,” he said, pointing at the Tang Priest, “phooey! You’re talking a load of rubbish, monk. Fancy you talking about understanding nature, and you a member of the faith that preaches nirvana. You don’t have any idea of where nature comes from. Sitting still like a dead tree to enter dhyana is wasted effort as far as self-cultivation and tempering are concerned. In the words of the saying,
Sit, sit, sit;
Your backside’s split.
The fire’s too hot;
Good that’s not.
What you don’t realize at all is this:
“One who cultivates immortality has strong bones; one who attains the Way has the most magical spirit. Carrying his bowl and ladle he goes into the mountains to visit his friends; he picks every kind of herb to succor humanity. He makes a rainhat from immortal flowers, plucks the fragrant orchid to make his bed. He sings, claps and dances, then goes to sleep. When expounding the Way he teaches the doctrines of the Supreme One; he eliminates the evil of the human world with holy water. He takes the finest breath of heaven and earth, gathers the essence of the sun and moon. By controlling the negative and positive forces he creates the elixir; through the mastery of fire and water the foetus is formed. On the sixteenth day of the month the negative is eliminated, hazily and obscurely. In the twenty-seventh day of winter the positive begins to grow, darkly and mysteriously. He gathers the herbs of each of the four seasons, refining his elixir to nourish the nine transformations. Astride his blue phoenix he ascends to the purple palace; riding his white crane he goes to the jasper capital. He visits all the splendors of Heaven, showing the efficacy of the wonderful Way. Just compare it with the dhyana teachings of your Sakyamuni, your elimination of atman and your nirvana that enables you to shuffle off your stinking husk. None of this lifts you out of the worldly dust. Among the Three Teachings it is supreme; the Way alone has always been esteemed.”
The king was delighted to hear this exposition, and all the court officials exclaimed with admiration, “That’s splendid, ‘the Way alone has always been esteemed.’” Sanzang was overcome by humiliation at all this praise going to his rival. The king then told his department of foreign relations to lay on a banquet of vegetarian food for the monks from a far country when they left the city to travel West.
Sanzang thanked the king for his kindness and withdrew. As he was leaving the throne hall and going out of the palace Monkey flew down from the top of his mitre to say into his ear, “Master, the Elder of the Nation is an evil spirit, and the king has been bewitched. Go back to the hostel and wait for your meal while I get some information here.”
Sanzang understood this and left through the main gates of the palace.
Of him we will say no more. Watch Monkey as he flies straight to a jade screen in the throne hall and lands on it. From the ranks of officials the military commanders of the capital stepped forward to report, “Your Majesty, last night a cold wind carried away the little boys in their goose coops from every house in every ward of the city. They have vanished without a trace, coops and all.”
This report both alarmed and angered the king, who said to the Elder of the Nation, “Heaven must be destroying us. We had the good fortune to be given the formula for your elixir after months of serious illness that the royal physicians have been unable to cure. We were preparing to have the boys cut open at noon today and their hearts taken out to be made into the adjuvant for the elixir. Never did we imagine that a cold wind would blow them all away. If this is not Heaven destroying us what is it?”
“Don’t upset yourself,” the Elder of the Nation replied with a smile. “By blowing them away Heaven is giving Your Majesty eternal life.”
“How can you maintain that Heaven is giving me eternal life when they have just been blown away?” the king asked.
“When I was coming to court this morning,” the Elder of the Nation replied, “I saw a uniquely marvellous adjuvant that will be far superior to 1,111 little boys’ hearts. They would only lengthen Your Majesty’s life by a thousand years, but if you take my elixir with this other adjuvant you can live for a hundred million years.”
The king was mystified about what this adjuvant could be, but only after repeated questions did the Elder of the Nation reply, “The monk from the East who is being sent to fetch the scriptures has pure organs and regular features. His is the body of one who has cultivated his conduct for ten lifetimes. He has been a monk since childhood and has preserved his masculine purity, which all makes him ten thousand times better than those little boys. If you can make a decoction from his heart with which to take my elixir I can guarantee you an extremely long life.”
When the deluded king heard this he believed it completely. “Why didn’t you tell us before?” he said to the Elder of the Nation. “If it’s as good as you say we should have kept him when he was here just now and not let him go.”
“This will present no problem,” the Elder of the Nation said. “You have already told the department of foreign relations to give him a vegetarian banquet. He can’t possibly leave the city before eating the meal. Urgent orders must be issued to have the gates firmly closed. Send troops to surround the government hostel and bring that monk here. First we will try to win his heart by treating him with courtesy. If he agrees we will cut it out and give him a royal burial, build him a temple and make offerings to him. If he will not agree we’ll use rough methods. We can tie him up and cut it out. There will be no problem.” The deluded ruler accepted this suggestion and ordered that all the gates be closed. He then sent the officers and men of the royal guard to surround the hostel.
Having found all this out Monkey flew straight to the hostel, turned back into himself and said to the Tang Priest, “Something terrible’s happened, Master, something terrible.” Sanzang had just begun to eat the king’s vegetarian banquet with Pig and Friar Sand when this sudden announcement scattered his three bodily spirits and made smoke come out of his seven orifices. He collapsed in the dust, pouring with sweat, and unable to see clearly or speak.
Friar Sand was so alarmed he came forward to help him back to his feet, calling, “Wake up, Master, wake up.”
“What’s so terrible?” Pig asked. “What’s so terrible? You should have broken the news gently instead of giving the master such a scare.”
“When the master left the palace I went back to keep an eye on things,” Monkey replied. “That Elder of the Nation is an evil spirit. A moment later the city garrison came to report about the cold wind carrying the little boys away. This upset the king, but the Elder of the Nation cheered him up by saying that this was Heaven giving him eternal life. He wants to use your heart as an adjuvant for the elixir of immortality, Master. The deluded king has accepted this wicked suggestion and ordered his best troops to surround this hostel. He’s also sent an aide to ask you for your heart, Master.”
“What a merciful and compassionate chap you are,” said Pig with a laugh. “You saved the boys and made the wind blow all right, but now you’ve got us in this disastrous mess.”
Trembling and shaking, Sanzang dragged himself to his feet, seized hold of Monkey and said imploringly, “Good disciple, how are we to get out of this?”
“If you want to get out of this,” said Monkey, “there’ll have to be a switch.”
“What do you mean by a switch?” Friar Sand asked.
“If you want to survive,” Monkey replied, “the disciple will have to become the master and the master the disciple. Do that and we’ll be safe.”
“Save my life,” said Sanzang, “and I will gladly become your disciple or even your disciple’s disciple.”
“In that case there must be no hesitation,” Monkey replied, continuing, “Pig, mix up some mud at once.” The idiot loosened some earth with his rake then, not daring to go outside for water, lifted his tunic to make some water himself. With this he mixed up a lump of foul-smelling mud that he handed to Monkey. Monkey had no option but to beat it out flat and press it against his face so that it looked like a monkey’s face. Then he told his master to stand up and neither move nor say anything while he placed the mask on his face, said the words of a spell, blew a magic breath and said, “Change!”
The venerable elder now looked just like Monkey. He took off his own clothes and put on Monkey’s while Monkey dressed in his master’s clothes, made a spell with his hands, said the magic words, shook himself and made himself look just like the Tang Priest. Even Pig and Friar Sand could not tell that he really was not.
Just when they had completed the disguises together there came the sound of gongs and drums as a dense forest of spears and swords appeared. The commanders of the royal guard had surrounded the hostel with their three thousand men. A royal aide came into the main hall of the hostel to ask, “Where is the reverend gentleman from the Tang court in the East?”
The superintendent of the hostel anxiously fell to his knees and said, pointing, “In the guest room over there.”
The aide then went into the room and said, “Venerable elder from Tang, His Majesty has sent for you.”
Pig and Friar Sand stood on either side of the imitation Monkey to guard him while the imitation Tang Priest went out through the door, bowed and said, “Your Excellency, what does His Majesty wish to say to me? Why has he sent for me?” The aide stepped forward to grab hold of him and say, “You and I are going to the palace. His Majesty must have some use for you.” Alas!
Wickedness was stronger than goodness and mercy;
Goodness and mercy only led to catastrophe.
If you don’t know whether they were to survive this departure listen to the explanation in the next installment.