The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2 (13 page)

Greatly startled, the Tang Monk said, “Wukong, I only received the Tight-Fillet Spell in secret from the Bodhisattva. There was no Loose-Fillet Spell.” “If there was no Loose-Fillet Spell,” said Pilgrim, “then you’d better still take me along.” The elder had no alternative but to say, “You’d better get up. I’ll forgive you one more time, but you must not do violence again.” “I won’t dare do so,” said Pilgrim, “I won’t dare do so.” He helped his master to mount up once more and then led the way forward.

We now tell you about that monster who, you see, had not been killed by Pilgrim’s second blow either. In midair, the fiend could not refrain from praising her opponent, saying, “Marvelous Monkey King! What perception! He could recognize me even when I had changed into that form! These monks are moving on rather quickly; another forty miles westward beyond the mountain and they will leave my domain. If some demons or fiends of another region pick them up, people would laugh till their mouths crack up, and I would eat my heart out! I’ll go down and make fun of them one more time.” Dear Monster! Lowering the dark wind again into the fold of the mountain, she shook her body and changed herself into an old man. Truly he had

    
Flowing white hair like Pengzu’s,
⁴

    
And beard more frosty than the Age Star’s.

    
A jade stone
⁵
rang in his ears,

    
And gold stars flashed in his eyes.

    
Holding a curved dragon-head cane,

    
He wore a light crane’s-down cloak.

    
Grasping in his hands some beads,

    
He chanted a Buddhist sūtra.

When the Tang Monk on his horse saw this old man, he was very pleased. “Amitābha!” he cried. “The West is truly a blessed region! This dear old man can hardly walk, but he still wants to recite the sūtras!” “Master,” said Eight Rules, “stop praising him. He’s the root of disaster!” “What do you mean the root of disaster?” said the Tang Monk. Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother
killed
his daughter as well as his wife, and now you see this old man groping his way here. If we run smack into him, Master, you’ll pay with your life since you are guilty of death. Old Hog is your follower, so he’ll be banished to serve in the army; Sha Monk carries out your orders, so he’ll be sentenced to hard labor. But our Elder Brother, of course, will use some kind of escape magic to get away. Now, won’t that leave the three of us here to take the blame for him?”

Hearing this, Pilgrim said, “This root of idiocy! Won’t this kind of absurdity alarm our master? Let old Monkey go and have another look.” He put away his rod and went forward to meet the fiend. “Aged Sir,” he called, “where are you going? Why are you walking and reciting a sūtra as well?” Our monster this time somehow misread, as it were, the balance of the steelyard, and she thought that Great Sage Sun was after all an ordinary fellow. Hence she said, “Elder, this old man has lived here for generations. My whole life is devoted to doing good and feeding the monks, to reading scriptures and chanting sūtras. Fate did not give me a boy, and I had only a girl, for whom I took in a son-in-law. This morning she went off to take rice down to the fields, and we fear that she might have been made food for the tiger instead. My old wife went searching for her, but she, too, did not return. In fact, I have absolutely no idea what has happened to them. That’s why this old man came seeking to see if they have been harmed in any way. If so, I have little alternative but to take back their bones and have them buried properly on our ancestral site.”

“I’m the ancestor in pulling pranks!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “How dare you sneak up on me and try to deceive me with something up your sleeve? You can’t fool me. I can see that you are a monster.” The monster was so startled that she could not utter another word. Wielding his rod, Pilgrim was about to strike, but he said to himself: “If I don’t hit her, she’s going to pull some trick again, but if I hit her, I fear that Master will recite that spell again.” He thought to himself some more: “But if I don’t kill her, she can grab Master the moment she has the opportunity, and then I’ll have to make all that effort to save him. I’d better strike! One blow will kill her, but Master will surely recite that spell. Well, the proverb says: ‘Even the vicious tiger will not devour its own.’ I’ll have to use my eloquence, my dexterous tongue, to convince him, that’s all.” Dear Great Sage! He recited a spell himself and summoned the local spirit and the mountain god, saying to them, “This monster made fun of my master three times. This time I’m going to make sure I’ll kill her, but you must stand guard in the air. Don’t let her get away.” When the deities heard this command, neither dared disobey it, and they both stood guard on the edge of the clouds. Our Great Sage lifted up his rod and struck down the demon, whose spiritual light was extinguished only then.

The
Tang Monk on the horse was again so horrified by what he saw that he could not even utter a word, but Eight Rules on one side snickered and said, “Dear Pilgrim! His delirium is acting up again! He has journeyed for only half a day and he has slaughtered three persons!” The Tang Monk was about to recite the spell when Pilgrim dashed up to the horse, crying, “Master! Don’t recite! Don’t recite! Just come and take a look at how she looks now.” There was in front of them a pile of flour-white skeletal bones. “Wukong,” said the Tang Monk, greatly shaken, “this person has just died. How could she change all at once into a skeleton?” Pilgrim said, “She’s a demonic and pernicious cadaver, out to seduce and harm people. When she was killed by me, she revealed her true form. You can see for yourself that there’s a row of characters on her spine; she’s called ‘LadyWhiteBone.’
”

When the Tang Monk heard what he said, he was about to believe him, but Eight Rules would not desist from slander. “Master,” said he, “his hand’s heavy and his rod’s vicious. He has beaten someone to death, but, fearing your recital, he deliberately changed her into something like this just to befuddle you.” Indeed a shilly-shally person, the Tang Monk believed Eight Rules once more and started his recital. Unable to bear the pain, Pilgrim could only kneel beside the road and cry, “Don’t recite! Don’t recite! If you have something to say, say it quickly.” “Monkey head!” said the Tang Monk. “What’s there to say? The virtuous deeds of those having left the family should be like grass in a garden of spring: though their growth is invisible, they multiply daily. But he who practices evil is like a whetstone: though its ruin is invisible, it diminishes daily. You manage to get away even after beating to death altogether three persons only because there’s no one here to oppose you, to take you to task in these desolate wilds. But suppose we get to a crowded city and you suddenly start hitting people regardless of good or ill with that mourning staff of yours, how would I be able to go free from that kind of great misfortune caused by you? You’d better go back.”

“Master,” said Pilgrim, “you have really wronged me. This is undeniably a monstrous spirit, bent on hurting you. I have helped you to ward off danger by killing her, but you can’t see it. You believe instead those sarcastic and slanderous remarks of Idiot to such an extent that you try to get rid of me several times. The proverb says, ‘Nothing can occur three times’! If I don’t leave you, I’ll be a base and shameless fellow. I’ll go! I’ll go! It’s no big deal, in fact, for me to leave, but then you will have no man to serve you.” Turning angry, the Tang Monk said, “This brazen ape is becoming even more unruly. So you think that you are the only man around here? Wuneng and Wujing, they are not men?”

When the Great Sage heard this statement about the other two disciples, he was so deeply hurt that he could not but say to the Tang Monk, “O misery!
Think of the time when Liu Boqin was your companion as you left Chang’an. After you delivered me from the Mountain of Two Frontiers and made me your disciple, I penetrated ancient caves and invaded deep forests to capture demons and defeat monsters. I was the one who, having experienced countless difficulties, subdued Eight Rules and acquired Sha Monk. Today, ‘banishing Wisdom just to court Folly,’ you want me to go back. That’s how it is:

    
When the birds vanish,

    
The bow is hidden;

    
When the hares perish,

    
The hounds are eaten.
⁶

All right! All right! There’s only one thing left for us to settle, and that’s the Tight-Fillet Spell.” The Tang Monk said, “I won’t recite that again.”

“That’s hard to say,” said Pilgrim. “For when the time comes for you to face those treacherous demons and bitter ordeals, and when you, because Eight Rules and Sha Monk cannot rescue you, think of me and cannot stop yourself from reciting it, I’ll have a headache even if I’m one hundred thousand miles away. I’ll have to come back to see you, so why don’t you let this matter drop now.”

When the Tang Monk saw that Pilgrim was so long-winded, he became angrier than ever. Rolling down from his horse, he told Sha Monk to take out paper and brush from one of the wraps. Fetching some water from a brook nearby and rubbing out some ink with an ink-slab on a rock, he wrote at once a letter of banishment. Handing it over to Pilgrim, he said, “Monkey head! Take this as a certificate. I’ll never want you as a disciple. If I ever consent to see you again, let me fall into the Avīci Hell!”
⁷
Taking the letter of banishment, Pilgrim said quickly, “Master, no need to swear. Old Monkey will leave.” He folded up the letter and put it in his sleeve. Attempting once more to placate the Tang Monk, he said, “Master, after all, I have followed you for all this time because of the Bodhisattva’s instructions. Today I have to quit in midjourney and am not able to attain the meritorious fruit. Please take a seat and let me bow to you, so that I can leave in peace.” Tang Monk turned his back and refused to reply, mumbling only, “I’m a good priest, and I won’t take the salutation of an evil man like you!” When the Great Sage saw that the Tang Monk refused to answer, he resorted to the magic of the Body beyond the Body. Pulling three pieces of hair from the back of his head, he blew on them a magic breath and cried, “Change!” They changed at once into three Pilgrims, who along with himself surrounded the master on all four sides. The master tried to turn left and right, but he was unable to dodge anymore and had to receive a bow from one of them.

Jumping
up, the Great Sage shook his body and retrieved his hair. Then he gave the following instructions to Sha Monk, saying, “Worthy Brother, you are a good man. Do be careful, however, that you don’t listen to the foolish nonsense of Eight Rules. You must also exercise caution on the journey. If there should be a time when a monster catches hold of Master, you just say that old Monkey happens to be his senior disciple. When those clumsy fiends of the West get wind of my abilities, they’ll not dare to harm my master.” “I’m a good priest,” said the Tang Monk, “and I’ll never mention the name of an evil man like you. Go back.” When the Great Sage saw that the elder simply refused to change his mind, he had no alternative but to leave. Look at him:

    
In tears he kowtowed to part with the priest;

    
In grief he took care to instruct Sha Monk.

    
He used his head to dig up the meadow’s grass

    
And both feet to kick up the ground’s rattan.

    
Like a wheel spinning he entered Heav’n and Earth,

    
Most able to overleap mountains and seas.

    
All at once he completely disappeared;

    
In no time he left on the way he came.

Look at him! He suppressed his outrage and took leave of his master by mounting the cloud-somersault to head straight for the Water-Curtain Cave of the Flower-Fruit Mountain. As he was traveling, alone and dejected, he suddenly heard the roar of water. The Great Sage paused in midair to look and discovered that it was the high tide of the Great Eastern Ocean. The moment he saw this, he thought of the Tang Monk and could not restrain the tears from rolling down his cheeks. He stopped his cloud and stayed there for a long time before proceeding. We do not know what will happen to him as he goes away; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

TWENTY-
EIGHT

At Flower-Fruit Mountain a pack of fiends hold assembly;

At the Black Pine Forest Tripitaka meets demons.

We were telling you about the Great Sage, who, though he was banished by the Tang Monk, was nevertheless filled with regret and nostalgia when he saw the Great Eastern Ocean. He said to himself, “I haven’t come this way for five hundred years!” This is what he saw as he looked at the ocean:

    
Vast, misty currents;

    
Huge, far-reaching waves—

    
Vast, misty currents that join the Milky Way;

    
Huge, far-reaching waves that touch the pulse of Earth.

    
The tide rises in salvos;

    
The water engulfs the bays—