The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2 (67 page)

BOOK: The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2
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Fallen trees and toppled woods;

    
Nine-layered halls with chipped and broken walls;

    
A Five-Phoenix Tower of shaken pillars and beams;

    
The red sun losing its brightness in Heav’n;

    
The yellow sand taking wings on Earth;

    
Alarmed warriors before the martial hall;

    
Frightened ministers in the letters bower;

    
Girls of three palaces with frowzy locks;

    
Beauties of six chambers with tousled hair.

    
Tassels dropped from gold caps of marquis and earls;

    
The prime minister’s black gauze did spread its wings.

    
Attendants had words but they dared not speak;

    
The Yellow Gate held papers that could not be sent.

    
Goldfishes and jade belts stood not in rows;

    
Ivory tablets and silk gowns had broken ranks.

    
Colored rooms and turquoise screens were all damaged;

    
Green windows and scarlet doors were all destroyed.

    
Tiles of Golden Chimes Hall flew off with bricks;

    
Carved doors of Brocade-Cloud Hall all fell apart.

    
This violent wind was violent indeed!

    
It blew till king and subjects, fathers and sons, could not meet,

    
Till all streets and markets were emptied of men,

    
And doors of ten thousand homes were tightly shut.

As this violent gust of wind arose, Pilgrim Sun further revealed his magic power. Giving his golden-hooped rod a twirl, he pointed it upwards a second time. You saw

    
The
Cloud-Pushing Boy,

    
The Fog-Spreading Lad—

    
The Cloud-Pushing Boy revealed his godly power

    
And a murky mass dropped down from Heaven;

    
The Fog-Spreading Lad displayed his magic might

    
And dense, soaring mists covered the Earth.

    
The three markets all grew dim;

    
The six avenues all turned dark.

    
With wind clouds left the seas

    
And Kunlun, trailing the rain.

    
Soon they filled Heav’n and Earth

    
And blackened this world of dust.

    
’Twas opaque like chaos of yore;

    
None could see Phoenix Tower’s door.

As thick fog and dense clouds rolled in, Pilgrim Sun gave his golden-hooped rod another twirl and pointed it upwards a third time. You saw

    
The Squire of Thunder raging,

    
The Mother of Lightning irate—

    
The Squire of Thunder, raging,

    
Rode a fiery beast backward to descend from Heaven’s pass;

    
The Mother of Lightning, irate,

    
Wielded gold snakes madly as she left the Dipper Hall.

    
Hu-la-la cracked the thunder,

    
Shattering the Iron Fork Mountain;

    
Xi-li-li flashed the scarlet sheets,

    
Flying out of the Eastern Ocean.

    
Loud rumbles of chariots came on and off;

    
Like fires and fames the grains and rice shot up.

    
Myriad things sprouted, their spirits revived.

    
Countless insects were from dormancy aroused.
3

    
King and subjects both were terrified;

    
Traders and merchants were awed by the sound.

Ping-ping, pang-pang, the thunder flashed and roared so ferociously that it seemed as if mountains were toppling and the earth was splitting apart. So terrified were the city’s inhabitants that every house lighted incense, that every home burned paper money. “Old Deng,” shouted Pilgrim. “Take care to look out for those greedy and corrupt officials, those churlish and disobedient sons. Strike down many of them for me to warn the public!” The peal of thunder grew louder than ever. Finally, Pilgrim pointed the iron rod once more and you saw

    
The
dragons gave order,

    
And rain filled the world,

    
Strong as Heavens river spilling o’er the dikes,

    
Quick as the clouds rushing through a channel.

    
It pattered on top of towers;

    
It splashed outside the windows.

    
The Silver Stream ran down from Heaven,

    
And whitecaps surged through the streets.

    
It spurted like vases upturned;

    
It gushed forth like basins poured out.

    
With houses almost drowned in hamlets,

    
The water rose to rural bridges’ height.

    
Truly mulberry fields became vast oceans,

    
And billows all too soon raced through the land.

    
Dragon gods came to lend a helping hand

    
By lifting up the Yangzi and throwing it down!

The torrential rain began in the morning and did not stop even after the noon hour. So great was the downpour that all the streets and gulleys of the Cart Slow Kingdom were completely flooded. The king therefore issued this decree: “The rain’s enough! If we had any more, it might damage the crops and that would have made things worse.” An official messenger below the Five-Phoenix Tower at once galloped through the rain to make this announcement: “Holy monk, we have enough rain.” When Pilgrim heard this, he pointed the golden-hooped rod upwards once more and, instantly, the thunder stopped and the wind subsided, the rain ended and the clouds dispersed. The king was filled with delight, and not one of the various civil and military officials could refrain from marveling, saying, “Marvelous priest! This is truly that ‘for the strong, there’s someone stronger still!’ Even when our Preceptors of State were capable of making the rain, a fine drizzle would go on for virtually half a day before it stopped completely. How is it that the weather can turn fair the moment the priest wants it to be fair? Look, the sun comes out instantly and there is not a speck of cloud anywhere!”

The king gave the command for the carriage to be returned to the palace, for he wanted to certify the travel rescript and permit the Tang Monk to pass through. Just as he was about to use his treasure seal, the three Daoists all went forward and stopped him, saying, “Your Majesty, this downpour of rain cannot be regarded as the monk’s merit, for it still owes its origin to the strength of the Daoist Gate.” The king said, “You just claimed that the Dragon Kings were not home and that was why it didn’t rain. He walked up there, exercised his quiet work of fervent prayers, and rain came down at once. How could you strive with him for credit?”

The
Tiger-Strength Immortal said, “I issued my summons, burned my charms, and struck my tablets several times after I ascended the altar. Which Dragon King would dare not show up? It had to be that someone else somewhere was also requesting their service, and that was the reason that the Dragon Kings along with the officers of the other four bureaus—of wind, cloud, thunder, and lightning—did not appear at first. Once they heard my summons, however, they were in a hurry to get here, and by that time it happened that I was leaving the altar already. The priest, of course, made use of the opportunity and it rained. But if you thought about the matter from the beginning, the dragons were those which I summoned here and the rain was that which we called for. How could you regard this, therefore, as their meritorious fruit?” When that dim-witted king heard these words, he became all confused again.

Pilgrim walked one step forward, and pressing his palms together he said, “Your Majesty, this trivial magic of heterodoxy is hardly to be considered anything of consequence. Let’s not worry about whether it’s his merit or ours. Let me tell you instead that there are in midair right now the Dragon Kings of the Four Oceans; because I have not dismissed them, they dare not withdraw. If that Preceptor of State could order the Dragon Kings to reveal themselves, I would concede that this was his merit.” Very pleased, the king said, “We have been on the throne for twenty-three years, but we have never laid eyes on a living dragon. Both of you can exercise your magic power, regardless whether you are a monk or a Daoist. If you could ask them to reveal themselves, it would be your merit; if you couldn’t, it would be your fault.”

Those Daoists, of course, had no such power or authority. Even if they were to give the order, the Dragon Kings would never dare show themselves on account of the presence of the Great Sage. Thus, the Daoists said, “We can’t do this. Why don’t you try?”

Lifting his face toward the air, the Great Sage cried out in a loud voice: “Aoguang, where are you? All of you brothers, show your true selves!” When those Dragon Kings heard this call, they at once revealed their original forms—four dragons dancing through clouds and mists toward the Hall of Golden Chimes. You see them

    
Soaring and transforming,

    
Encircling clouds and mists.

    
Like white hooks the jade claws hang;

    
Like bright mirrors the silver scales shine.

    
Whiskers float like white silk, each strand’s distinct;

    
Horns rise ruggedly, each prong is clear.

    
Those craggy foreheads;

    
Those brilliant round eyes.

    
They,
hidden or seen, can’t be fathomed;

    
They, flying or soaring, can’t be described.

    
Pray for rain, and rain comes instantly;

    
Ask for fair sky, and it’s here at once.

    
Only these are the true dragon forms, most potent and holy,

    
Their good aura surrounds the court profusely.

The king lighted incense in the hall, and the various officials bowed down before the steps. “It was most kind of you to show us your precious forms,” said the king. “Please go back, and we shall say a special mass another day to thank you.” “All of you deities may now retire,” said Pilgrim, “for the king has promised to thank you with a special mass on another day.” The Dragon Kings returned to the oceans, while the other deities all went back to Heaven. Thus this is

    
The true magic might, so boundless and vast;

    
Heresy’s pierced by nature enlightened.

We don’t know how the deviant is finally exorcised; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

FORTY-
SIX

Heresy flaunts its strength to mock orthodoxy;

Mind Monkey in epiphany slays the deviates.

We were telling you that when the king saw Pilgrim Sun’s ability to summon dragons and command sages, he immediately applied his treasure seal to the travel rescript. He was about to hand it back to the Tang Monk and permit him to take up the journey once more, when the three Daoists went forward and prostrated themselves before the steps of the Hall of Golden Chimes. The king left his dragon throne hurriedly and tried to raise them with his hands. “State Preceptors,” he said, “why do you three go through such a great ceremony with us today?” “Your Majesty,” said the Daoists, “we have been upholding your reign and providing security for your people here for these twenty years. Today this priest has made use of some paltry tricks of magic and robbed us of all our credit and ruined our reputation. Just because of one rainstorm, Your Majesty has pardoned even their crime of murder. Are we not being treated lightly? Let Your Majesty withhold their rescript for the moment and allow us brothers to wage another contest with them. We shall see what happens then.”

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