The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2 (18 page)

The travel rescript of the Tang Son of Heaven, who succeeds under the guidance of Heaven to the throne of the Great Tang Empire in the South Jambūdvīpa Continent. Though we humbly acknowledge our poor display of virtue, we are the lawful descendant of a great heritage. In the service to the gods and the government of men, we try to be vigilant night and day, as if we were approaching a deep abyss or walking on thin ice. Some time ago, we failed to save the life of the Old Dragon of Jing River, for which we were chastised by the Most High August One. Our soul and spirit, drifting to the Region of Darkness, had already become a guest of impermanence. Because our allotted age was not yet exhausted, however, we were indebted to the Ruler of Darkness, who released us and returned us to life. Thereafter, we convened a grand mass and established the ritual field for the dead. It was at this time also that the One who saves from afflictions, the Bodhisattva Guanshiyin, revealed to us her golden form, and enlightened us with the knowledge that the West had both Buddha and scriptures, able to redeem the dead and deliver the orphaned spirits. For this reason we now commission Xuanzang, master of the law, to traverse a thousand mountains in order to acquire such scriptures. When he reaches the many nations of the West, it is our hope that they will not extinguish the goodly affinity and allow him to pass through because of this rescript. This is a necessary-to-be-sent document.
⁷
An auspicious day in the autumn of the thirteenth year, in the Zhenguan period of the Great Tang. An imperial document. (There were also the marks of nine precious seals on it.)

When the king read it, he took the jade seal of his own nation and stamped it before handing it back to Tripitaka.

After he thanked the king and put away the travel rescript, Tripitaka said, “This humble priest came first of all to have the document certified, and secondly to present to Your Majesty a family letter.” Delighted, the king said, “What kind of family letter?” “Your Majesty,” said Tripitaka, “the third princess was kidnapped by the Yellow Robe Fiend of the Current-Moon Cave at the Casserole Mountain. This humble priest met her by chance and it was she who asked me to send you this letter.”

When the king heard this, his eyes brimmed with tears. “Thirteen years
ago,”
he said, “we lost our princess. For that, we banished countless officials, both civil and military, and we did not know how many ladies-in-waiting and eunuchs we had caned to death throughout the palace. For we thought that she had walked out of the palace and lost her way. Since we did not know where to look, we interrogated countless households in the city, but there was not a trace of her. How would we know that a monster had kidnapped her? When I receive this word today, I cannot hold back my grief or tears.” Thereupon Tripitaka took out the letter from his sleeve and presented it. When the king took it and saw the address on the envelope, his hands turned feeble and could not open the letter. He therefore gave the order to have the Grand Secretary of the Hanlin Academy
⁸
come before the throne and read the letter. The Grand Secretary ascended the steps as all the civil and military officials before the court and all the imperial concubines and palace ladies behind the court listened attentively. Opening the letter, the Grand Secretary began to read:

The unfilial daughter, Hundred Flowers’ Shame, touches her head to the ground a hundred times before the Dragon-Phoenix Palace to honor Father King of the highest virtue. Long may he live! I bow also before the Bright Sun Palace to my Queen Mother, Queen of the Three Palaces, and to all worthy ministers, both civil and military, of the entire court. Ever since it was my good fortune to have been born into the queen’s palace, I have been indebted to you for the countless acts of grievous labor you undertook on my behalf. I regret that I have not done the utmost to please you, nor have I discharged with all my strength my filial duties. It was on the fifteenth day of the eighth month thirteen years ago that Father King, on that lovely evening and auspicious occasion, gave his gracious command for banquets to be be prepared in the several palaces so that we might enjoy the moonlight and celebrate the glorious Festival of Immaculate Heavens. During the moment of festivity, a sudden gust of fragrant wind
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brought forward a demon king with golden pupils, indigo face, and green hair who took hold of your daughter. Mounting the auspicious luminosity, he carried me away directly to an uninhabited region midway in the mountain and absolutely forbade me to leave. He exploited his fiendish power and forced me to become his wife; I had no alternative but to suffer such ignominy for these thirteen years. Two monster children were born to me, all seeds of this fiend. To speak of this, in fact, is to corrupt the great human relations and to pervert our morals. I should not, therefore, send you such an offensive and insulting letter, but I fear that there would be no explanation should your daughter pass away. As I was thinking of my parents with deep sorrow, I learned that a holy monk from the Tang court was also taken captive by the demon king. It was then that your daughter wrote this letter in tears and made bold to obtain release
for
the priest, so that he might deliver this small document as an expression of my heart. I beg Father King in his compassion to send his noble generals quickly to capture the Yellow Robe Fiend at the Current-Moon Cave of the Casserole Mountain and bring your daughter back to the court. Yours will be the deepest favor to me. Please pardon my disrespect in writing this letter in haste, and whatever has not been said I hope to tell you face to face. Your disobedient daughter, Hundred Flowers’ Shame, kowtows again and again.

When the Grand Secretary finished reading the letter, the king burst into loud wailing; all the three palaces shed tears and the various officials were also overborne by grief.

After the king had wept for a long time, he asked the two rows of civil and military officials, “Who dares lead the troops and captains to capture the monster for us and rescue our Hundred Flowers princess?” He asked the question several times, but there was not a single person courageous enough to respond. Like generals carved out of wood and ministers molded with clay, they all turned dumb! Sorely distressed, the king wept till tears streamed down his face, whereupon many officials prostrated themselves and memorialized, saying, “Your Majesty, we beseech you to desist from your sorrow. The princess was lost, and for thirteen years there had been no news from her. Although she met by chance the holy monk from the Tang court so that she was able to send us this letter, we are still not fully informed about her situation. Moreover, your subjects are merely mortal creatures. We have studied military manuals and tactics, of course, but our knowledge is limited to placing troops in formations and pitching camps in order to protect the frontiers of our nation from any invasion. The monster-spirit, however, is someone who comes by the fog and goes with the clouds. Unless we could meet him face to face, how could we attack him and rescue the princess? The scripture pilgrim from the Land of the East is, we believe, a holy monk from a noble nation. As a priest

    
Whose vast power tames dragons and tigers,

    
Whose great virtue awes demons and gods,

he must know the art of subduing monsters. As the proverb says,

    
He who comes and tells of some affair

    
Is himself involved in that affair.

Let us ask this elder to subdue the monster and rescue our princess; this is our safest policy.”

When the king heard these words, he turned quickly to Tripitaka and said, “Elder, if you have the ability to release your dharma power and catch the monster so that my child can return to the court, you need not go worship
Buddha in the West. You can let your hair grow again, for we will become bond-brothers with you. You may sit on the dragon couch with us and enjoy our riches together. How about it?”

“This poor monk,” said Tripitaka hurriedly, “knows a little of chanting the name of Buddha, but truly he does not know how to subdue monsters.” “If you don’t,” said the king, “how dare you go seek Buddha in the Western Heaven?” No longer able to hide the truth, the elder had to mention his two disciples. “Your Majesty,” he said, “your poor monk would find it very difficult indeed to come here if he were all by himself. I have, however, two disciples, most capable of opening up a pathway in the mountains and building bridges when we come upon the rivers. They have accompanied me here.”

“You are an insensitive monk,” said the king, chiding him. “If you have disciples, why did you not bring them to see us also? When they enter my court, even if we had no intention to reward them, we could provide at least some food.” Tripitaka said, “The disciples of this poor monk are rather ugly in their appearances, and they dare not enter the court without permission. For I fear that they might cause too great a shock to your Majesty.”

“Look at how this monk talks,” said the king with a laugh. “Do you think really that we’ll be afraid of them?” “It’s hard to tell,” said Tripitaka. “My elder disciple has the surname of Zhu, and his given names are Wuneng and Eight Rules. He has a long snout and fanglike teeth, tough bristles on the back of his head, and huge, fanlike ears. He is coarse and husky, and he causes even the wind to rise when he walks. My second disciple has the surname of Sha, and his religious names are Wujing and Monk. He is twelve feet tall and three span wide across his shoulders. His face is like indigo, his mouth, a butcher’s bowl; his eyes gleam and his teeth seem a row of nails. With looks like those, how could they dare enter the court without permission?” “Since you have now given them a thorough description,” said the king, “we wouldn’t be afraid of them. Summon them in.” He then gave the order that an invitation by a golden plaque should be sent at once to the post-house.

When Idiot saw the invitation, he said to Sha Monk, “Brother, you were saying previously that we should perhaps not deliver that letter. Now you can see what benefits delivering that letter can bring. It must be that after Master had delivered the letter, the king said that a messenger should not be lightly treated and insisted on giving a banquet for him. He has no stomach for that sort of thing, but at least he’s considerate toward the two of us by mentioning our names. That’s why a golden plaque has been sent to invite us. Let’s go and have a good meal then, and we can leave tomorrow.” “Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “we still don’t know the true reason for this. Let’s go and find out.” They therefore turned over the luggage and
the
horse to the care of the post-house master. Taking their weapons with them, they followed the golden plaque into court and went before the white jade steps. Standing on the left and on the right, they made one bow and then remained erect without moving again. Every member of those civil and military officials was deeply shaken. “These two monks,” they said, “are not only ugly, they are downright uncouth! How could they see our king and not prostrate themselves? After one bow, they just stand there and remain erect. It’s preposterous! It’s preposterous!” Eight Rules heard this and he said, “Don’t complain, all of you. That’s how we are! At first glance, we may appear ugly, but after awhile, you’ll get used to us.”

When the king saw how hideous they were, he was immediately frightened. By the time he heard what Idiot had said, he was shaking so hard that he fell down from his dragon couch. Fortunately, there were attendants nearby who took hold of him and helped him up. The Tang Monk was so terrified that he knelt before the court and kowtowed without ceasing, saying, “Your Majesty, this monk deserves ten thousand deaths, ten thousand deaths! I said that my disciples were ugly and that they should not be granted an audience because it might injure your dragon body. Now, they have indeed alarmed the Throne.” Still trembling, the king went forward to raise up the priest, saying, “Elder, it’s a good thing that you told me about them before. If you hadn’t, the sudden sight of them would have scared me to death!”

After he had calmed down, the king said, “Elder Zhu and Elder Sha, which one of you is good at subduing monsters?” Foolishly Idiot answered, “Old Hog knows how.” “In what way?” asked the king. “I am the Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds,” said Eight Rules. “Because I transgressed Heaven’s decree, I fell to the Region Below where luckily I could embrace the truth and become a monk. Since our journey from the Land of the East, I have been the one most capable of subduing monsters.” The king said, “If you are a celestial warrior who has descended to Earth, you must know very well the magic of transformation.” “I shouldn’t boast,” said Eight Rules, “but I do know a few little tricks.” “Try to change into something for me to have a look,” said the king. Eight Rules said, “Give me a subject, and I’ll change into its form.” The king said, “Change into something big, then.”

That Eight Rules happened to know thirty-six kinds of transformation. He stood before the steps and showed off his ability; making the magic sign with his fingers and reciting a spell, he shouted, “Grow!” He straightened his torso and at once attained the height of eighty or ninety feet just like a pathfinding deity. The two rows of civil and military officials shook in their boots; the ruler and the subjects of the entire kingdom were terror-stricken. One of the palace guardian-generals managed to ask, “Elder, when will you stop growing? Is there a limit to your height?” Idiot could not refrain from
spouting
idiotic words. “It depends on the wind,” he said. “It’s all right if the east wind is blowing, and the west wind is okay, too. But if the south wind rises, I’ll bore a great hole in the blue sky!” Horrified, the king said, “Retrieve your magic. I know your power of transformation.” Squatting down, Eight Rules changed back into his original form at once and stood before the steps. “Elder,” asked the king once more, “what sort of weapons do you intend to bring with you to do battle on this expedition?” Eight Rules took out his muckrake and said, “What old Hog uses is a pronged rake.” “That’s shameful!” said the king with a chuckle. “We have here whips, maces, gilt bludgeons, mallets, scimitars, spears, halberds with crescent-shaped blades, battle-axes, swords, halberds, lances, and battle sickles. You can pick anything you like and take it with you. How could you regard that rake of yours as a weapon?” “You have no idea about this, Your Majesty,” said Eight Rules. “This rake may seem a rather crude instrument, but it is one that has stayed with me since my youth. When I was commanding some eighty thousand sailors in the naval department at the Heavenly River, I relied solely on the strength of this rake. Now that I have descended to this mortal world to accompany my master, that which