The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2 (37 page)

The Great Sage said, “Venerable Sir, you are not very honorable! That you would permit your kin to become demons should make you guilty of oversight in the governance of your household.” “It’s really not my affair,” said Laozi, “so don’t blame the wrong person. These youths were requested by the Bodhisattva from the sea three times; they were to be sent here and transformed into demons, to test all of you and see whether master and disciples are sincere in going to the West.”

When the Great Sage heard these words, he thought to himself, “What a rogue is this Bodhisattva! At the time when she delivered old Monkey and told me to accompany the Tang Monk to procure scriptures in the West, I
said
that the journey would be a difficult one. She even promised that she herself would come to rescue us when we encounter grave difficulties, but instead, she sent monster-spirits here to harass us. The way she double-talks, she deserves to be a spinster for the rest of her life!” He then said to Laozi, “If Venerable Sir didn’t show up personally, I would never have returned these things to you. But since you have made the appearance and told me the truth, you can take them away.” After receiving the five treasures, Laozi lifted the seals of the gourd and the vase and poured out two masses of divine ether. With one point of his finger he transformed the ether again into two youths, standing on his left and right. Ten thousand strands of propitious light appeared as

    
They all drifted toward the Tushita Palace;

    
Freely they went straight up to Heaven’s canopy.

We do not know what happens thereafter, how the Great Sun accompanies the Tang Monk, or at what time they reach the Western Heaven; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

THIRTY-
SIX

When Mind Monkey is rectified, the nidānas cease;
¹

Smash through the side door
²
to view the bright moon.

We were telling you about Pilgrim, who lowered the direction of his cloud and presented to his master a thorough account of how the Bodhisattva requested for the youths and how Laozi took back his treasures. Tripitaka was deeply grateful; he redoubled his efforts and determination to go to the West at all costs. He mounted the horse once more; while Zhu Eight Rules poled the luggage, Sha Monk took hold of the bridle, and Pilgrim Sun took up his iron rod to lead the way down the tall mountain. As they proceeded, we cannot tell you in full how they rested by the waters and dined in the wind, how they were covered with frost and exposed to the dew. Master and disciples journeyed for a long time and again they found a mountain blocking their path.

“Disciples,” said Tripitaka loudly on the horse, “Look how tall and rugged is that mountain. We should be most careful, for I fear that there may be some demonic miasmas coming to attack us.” Pilgrim said, “Stop thinking foolish thoughts, Master. Compose yourself and keep your mind from wandering; nothing will happen to you.”

“O Disciple,” said Tripitaka, “why is it so difficult to reach the Western Heaven? I remember that since leaving the city Chang’an, spring has come and gone on this road several times, autumn has arrived to be followed by winter—at least four or five years must have gone by. Why is it that we still haven’t reached our destination?”

“It’s too early! It’s too early!” said Pilgrim, roaring with laughter. “We haven’t even left the main door yet!” “Stop fibbing, Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules. “There’s no such big mansion in this world.” “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “we are just moving around in one of the halls inside.” Laughing, Sha Monk said, “Elder Brother, stop talking so big to scare us. Where could you find such a huge house? Even if there were, you wouldn’t be able to find cross beams that were long enough.” “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “from the point of view of old Monkey, this blue sky is our roof, the sun and moon are our windows, the five sacred mountains our pillars, and the whole Heaven and Earth is but one large chamber.” When Eight Rules heard this, he sighed, “We’re finished! We’re finished! All right, move around some more and we’ll go back.” “No need for this kind of silly chatter,” said Pilgrim. “Just follow old Monkey and move.”

Dear
Great Sage! Placing the iron rod horizontally across his shoulders, he led the Tang Monk firmly up the mountain road and went straight ahead. As the master looked around on the horse, he saw some lovely mountain scenery. Truly

    
The rugged summits touch the dipper stars,

    
And treetops seem to join the sky and clouds.

    
Within piles of blue mist

    
Ape cries oft arise from the valley;

    
In the shades of riotous green

    
You hear cranes calling beneath the pines.

    
Howling mountain sprites rear up in the streams

    
To mock the woodsman;

    
Aged fox spirits sit beside the cliff

    
To frighten the hunter.

    
Marvelous mountain!

    
Look how steep it is on all sides,

    
How precipitous every where!

    
Strange knotty pines topped by green canopies;

    
Dried, aged trees dangling creepers and vines.

    
The stream surges,

    
Its piercing cold chills e’en the hairs of man;

    
The peak shoots up,

    
Its eye-smarting clear wind makes one skittish.

    
Frequently you listen to big cats roar;

    
Now and then you hear mountain birds call.

    
Flocks of fallow deer cut through the brambles,

    
Leaping here and there;

    
Hordes of river deer seeking food of the wilds

    
Stampede back and forth.

    
Standing on the meadow,

    
One can’t see any traveler;

    
Walk in the canyons

    
And there are wolves on all sides.

    
It’s no place for Buddha to meditate,

    
Wholly the domain of darting birds and beasts.

With fear and trembling, the master entered deep into the mountain. Growing more melancholy, he stopped the horse and said, “O Wukong! Once

    
I was resolved
³
to make that mountain
⁴
trip,

    
To send me from the city the king did not wait.

    
I met on the way the three-cornered sedge;

    
I
pushed hard my horse decked with bridle bells.

    
To find scriptures I searched steep slopes and streams;

    
To bow to Buddha’s spirit I scaled the peaks.

    
If myself I guard to complete my tour,

    
When may I go home to bow to the court?”

When the Great Sage heard these words, he roared with laughter, saying, “Master, don’t be so anxious and impatient. Relax and push forward. In due time, I assure you that ‘success will come naturally when merit’s achieved.’
” As master and disciples enjoyed the mountain scenery while they walked along, the red orb soon sank toward the west. Truly

    
No traveler walked by the ten-mile arbor,

    
But stars appeared in the ninefold heavens.

    
Boats of eight rivers returned to their piers;

    
Seven thousand towns and counties shut their gates.

    
The lords of six chambers and five bureaus all retired;

    
From four seas and three rivers fish-lines withdrew.

    
Gongs and drums sounded on two tall towers;

    
One orb of bright moon filled the universe.

As he peered into the distance on the back of the horse, the master saw in the fold of the mountain several multistoried buildings. “Disciples,” said Tripitaka, “it’s getting late now and we are fortunate to find some buildings over there. I think it must be either a Daoist abbey or a Buddhist monastery. Let’s go there and ask for lodging for the night, and we can resume our journey in the morning.” Pilgrim said, “Master, you are right. Let’s not hurry, however; let me examine the place first.” Leaping into the air, the Great Sage stared intently and found that it was indeed a Buddhist monastery. He saw

    
Eight-word brick wall
⁵
painted muddy red;

    
Doors on two sides studded with nails of gold;

    
Rows of tiered-terrace sheltered by the peak;

    
Buildings, multistoried, hidden in the mount.

    
Buddhas Alcove
⁶
faced the Tathāgata Hall;

    
The Morning-Sun Tower met the Great Hero
⁷
Gate.

    
Clouds rested on a seven-tiered pagoda,

    
And glory shone from three honored Buddhas.
⁸

    
Mañjuśrī Platform faced the monastic house;

    
Maitreya Hall joined the Great Mercy Room.

    
Blue light danced outside the Mount-Viewing Lodge;

    
Purple clouds bloomed above the Void-Treading Tower.

    
Pine retreats and bamboo courts—fresh, lovely green.

    
Abbot
rooms and Zen commons—clean every where.

    
Gracefully, quietly services were held.

    
Solemn but joyful priests walked the grounds.

    
Chan monks lectured in the Chan classrooms,

    
And instruments blared from music halls.

    
Udumbara petals dropped from the Wondrous-Height Terrace;

    
Pattra
⁹
leaves grew beneath the Law-Expounding Platform.

    
So it was that woods sheltered this land of the Three Jewels,

    
And mountains embraced this home of a Sanskrit Prince.

    
Half a wall of lamps with flickering lights and smoke;

    
A row of incense obscured by fragrant fog.

Descending from his cloud, the Great Sage Sun reported to Tripitaka, saying, “Master, it’s indeed a Buddhist monastery. We can go there to ask for lodging.”

The master urged his horse on and went straight up to the main gate. “Master,” said Pilgrim, “what monastery is this?” “The hoofs of my horse have just come to a stop, and the tips of my feet have yet to leave the stirrups,” said Tripitaka, “and you ask me what monastery this is? How thoughtless you are!” Pilgrim said, “You, your venerable self, have been a monk since your youth, and you must have studied the Confucian classics before you proceeded to lecture on the dharma sūtras. You must have mastered both literature and philosophy before you received such royal favors from the Tang Emperor. There are big words on the door of this monastery. Why can’t you recognize them?” “Impudent ape!” snapped the elder. “You mouth such senseless words! I was facing the west as I rode and my eyes were momentarily blinded by the glare of the sun. There might be words on the door, but they are covered by grime and dirt. That’s why I can’t make them out.” When Pilgrim heard these words, he stretched his torso and at once grew to over twenty feet tall. Wiping away the dirt, he said, “Master, please take a look.” There were seven words in large characters: “Precious Grove Monastery Built by Imperial Command.” After Pilgrim changed back into his normal size, he said, “Master, which one of us should go in to ask for lodging?” “I’ll go inside,” said Tripitaka, “for all of you are ugly in your appearance, uncouth in your speech, and arrogant in your manner. If you happen to offend the local monks, they may refuse our request, and that won’t be good.” “In that case,” said Pilgrim, “let Master go in at once. No need for words anymore.”