Hold fast in life the “sword” above the “heart.”1
Recall the “long” beside the “suffering.”
The proverb says the sword’s the law of life,
But think thrice to check both anger and pride.
“The noblest” 2 is peaceful—it’s taught long ago;
“The sage loves virtue”3—a truth for all times.
The strong man will meet someone stronger still:
Come to naught at last he surely will!
We were telling you about the Zhenyuan Great Immortal, who grabbed Pilgrim and said, “I know your abilities, and I have heard of your reputation. But you have been most deceitful and unscrupulous this time. You may indulge in all sorts of wizardry, but you can’t escape from my hands. I’ll argue with you all the way to the Western Heaven to see that Buddhist Patriarch of yours, but you won’t get away from having to restore to me the Ginseng Fruit Tree. So stop playing with your magic!” “Dear Sir!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “How petty you are! If you want the tree revived, there’s no problem. If you had said so in the first place, we would have been spared this conflict.” “No conflict!” said the Great Immortal. “You think I would let you get away with what you have done?” “Untie my master,” said Pilgrim, “and I’ll give you back a living tree. How’s that?” “If you really possess the power,” said the Great Immortal, “to make the tree alive again, I’ll go through the proper ceremony of ‘Eight Bows’ with you and become your bond-brother.” “Relax!” said Pilgrim. “Let them go, and you can be certain that old Monkey will give you back a living tree.”
The Great Immortal reckoned that they could not escape; he therefore gave the order to free Tripitaka, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk. “Master,” said Sha Monk, “I wonder what sort of tricks Elder Brother is up to this time.”
“What sort of tricks?” asked Eight Rules. “This is called the trick of ‘Pulling Wool Right over Your Eyes.’ The tree is dead! You think it could be cured and revived? He’s just putting out some empty formula for show. On the pretext of going to find medicine to cure the tree, he will flee and take to the road all by himself. You think he has any care for us?” “He won’t dare leave us behind,” said Tripitaka. “Let’s ask him where he is going to find the cure.”
He then called out, “Wukong, how did you manage to deceive the Immortal Master and have us freed?” “Old Monkey is speaking the truth, only the truth,” said Pilgrim. “What do you mean by deceiving him?” Tripitaka asked. “Where will you go to find the cure?”
Pilgrim replied, “According to an old proverb, ‘The cure comes from the seas.’ I want to go now to the Great Eastern Ocean and make a complete tour of the Three Islands and the Ten Islets. I want to visit all the Immortals and Aged Sages to ask for a method of revivification that will revive the tree for him.” “How long do you need to be away before returning?” said Tripitaka. “Only three days.” “All right,” said Tripitaka. “As you said, I’ll give you three days. If you return by that time, everything will be fine. If you don’t come back after three days, I’ll begin reciting that ‘Old-Time Sūtra’!” “I hear you! I hear you!” said Pilgrim.
Look how he quickly straightened his tiger-skin kilt. As he walked out the door, he said to the Great Immortal, “You need not worry, sir. I leave now, but I’ll be back very soon. But you must take good care of my master; see that he lacks none of the three meals and the six teas of the day. If my master’s clothes become soiled or wrinkled, wash and starch them. Should he want anything, old Monkey will settle the account with you when he returns. I’ll finish puncturing all the pans for you! If my master’s face pales even a little, I won’t take him back; and if he becomes a trifle thin, I’ll not leave this place.” “Go, go,” said the Great Immortal. “I’ll see to it that he doesn’t starve!”
Dear Monkey King! He mounted his cloud somersault quickly and left the Abbey of Five Villages, heading straight for the Great Eastern Ocean. Moving through the air like lightning and meteor, he soon arrived at the immortal region of Penglai.4 He lowered his cloud and took a careful look below: it was a lovely place indeed, for which we have a testimonial poem. The poem says:
A great land divine, the sages’ domain,
These Penglai islands calm the winds and waves.
Jasper towers’ cool the heavens with their shades;
Tall arches’ bright reflections float on the sea.
Mists of five colors veil the jade-green sky;
High on the gold turtle stars and moon shine.
The Queen of the West would this place frequent
For Three Immortals with peaches as present.
Before he had finished looking at this divine scenery, Pilgrim was already entering Penglai. As he walked, he saw three old men playing encirclement chess in the shade of some pine trees outside the White-Cloud Cave. The one watching the game was the Star of Longevity, while the two playing were the Star of Blessing and the Star of Wealth. Pilgrim approached them, crying, “Old brothers, receive my bow!” When the Three Stars saw him, they pushed away the chess board and returned his salutation. “Great Sage, why did you come here?” they asked. “I came especially to have some fun with all of you,” said Pilgrim. “I heard that the Great Sage, who forsook Daoism to follow Buddhism,” said the Star of Longevity, “had won back his freedom to protect the Tang Monk on his journey to seek scriptures in the Western Heaven. He must be traveling over rugged roads every day. Where would he find time to have fun with us?” Pilgrim said, “To tell all of you the truth, old Monkey has run into a little obstacle halfway on the journey to the West. That’s why I came to request some assistance, but I don’t know whether you are willing to help me or not.” “At what place?” asked the Star of Blessing. “What sort of obstacle? Tell us plainly so that we may decide.” “We were stopped while passing the Abbey of Five Villages at the Long Life Mountain.” “The Abbey of Five Villages is the divine residence of the Zhenyuan Great Immortal,” said one of the three old men, who were astonished. “Could it be that you stole and ate his ginseng fruits?” “So I stole and ate them,” said Pilgrim with a laugh. “How much could they be worth?”
“You ape!” said one of the three old men. “You are dumb! A man who takes
one whiff of that fruit will live to be three hundred and sixty years old; he eats one and he’ll last forty-seven thousand years. That’s why it bears the name of ‘The Long-Life Grass of Reverted Cinnabar.’ The level of cultivation in Dao of that Great Immortal far surpasses ours! With such a thing in his possession, he can easily have the same age as Heaven, whereas we still have to nourish our spermal essence, cultivate our breaths, fortify our spirits, harmonize the tiger and
the dragon, catch the kan to fill up the li—in short, we have to spend a lot of
time and effort just to attain immortality. How could you say, ‘How much could they be worth?’ Throughout the whole world, that’s the only kind of spiritual root there is.” “Spiritual root! Spiritual root!” said Pilgrim. “I have already uprooted it!”
“What do you mean by ‘uprooted it’?” asked the three old men, greatly alarmed. Pilgrim said, “When we went to the Abbey the other day, the Great Immortal was not home, and only two lads received my master. They served him two ginseng fruits, but my master did not realize that they were fruits. Thinking that they were infants not yet three days old, he absolutely refused to eat them. The lads took them away and ate them without bothering even to share them with us. So, old Monkey went and stole three of the fruits for us three brothers to eat, but those two lads, without any sense of propriety, kept on calling us thieves. Old Monkey got mad and gave the tree a blow with his rod. When it fell to the ground, the fruits on it disappeared, the branches snapped, the leaves dropped, and it died with all its roots exposed. The lads tried to imprison us, but old Monkey broke their lock and left. Early next morning, their master came back and gave chase; we had a few rough exchanges with him which led eventually to a fight. In a flash, he flipped open that sleeve of his and bagged all of us. We were bound and shackled, interrogated and whipped for a whole day, but we managed to escape again that night. He caught up with us once more and took us captive. Mind you, there was not an inch of steel on him! He had only that yak’s tail to parry our blows, but none of the three weapons of us brothers could even touch him. And so he gave us more of the same treatment, wrapping my master and my two younger brothers in cloth coated with varnish but putting me in a pan of boiling oil. I then showed him my special talent for escape, but not before I had punctured his pan. When he saw that he could not hold me captive, he became somewhat intimidated, and that was when I sweet-talked him into freeing my master and my brothers with the promise that I would revive his tree for him. That’s how we came to a temporary truce. When I remembered the saying, ‘The cure comes from the seas,’ I decided to pay you three old Brothers a visit in this lovely place. If you have any formula to cure the tree, please pass it on to me at once so that I can rescue the Tang Monk from his ordeal.”
When the Three Stars heard these words, they became distressed also. One of them said, “Monkey, you’re completely ignorant of people! That Master Zhenyuan is the patriarch of earthbound immortals, while we belong to the lineage of divine immortals. You may have some sort of position in Heaven, but you are only an irregular number in the Great Monad clan, and you have yet to attain an authentic rank. How could you possibly expect to escape from him? If you had killed some beast or bird, some insect or scaly creature, all you would need is one grain of my millet-elixir and it would be revived. The ginseng fruit, however, is the very root of all divine trees. How could it be healed? There’s no cure for it!” When Pilgrim heard that there was no cure available, his brow became completely furrowed.
“Great Sage,” said the Star of Blessing, “though there is no cure here, there may be one in another place. Why are you so dejected?” Pilgrim said, “Of course, I don’t mind going to another place to seek a cure. It would have been a small matter indeed, even if I had to journey to the edge of the seas or make a complete tour of the thirty-six Heavens. But that Elder Tang of mine, who is neither tolerant nor magnanimous, has given me a limit of three days. If I don’t return with something after three days, he’ll start re citing the Tight-Fillet Spell.” “Good! Good! Good!” said the Three Stars, laughing. “Had it not been for this little means of control, you would be crawling all over Heaven again!” Then the Star of Longevity said, “Relax, Great Sage. Don’t worry. Though that Great Immortal is our senior, he does know us. As we have not visited him for a long time, and as it is for the sake of the Great Sage, we three shall go and call on him right now. We’ll express your concern to the Tang Monk and tell him not to recite the Tight-Fillet Spell. Three days, four days—what’s the difference? We won’t leave them until you come back with the cure.” “Thank you! Thank you!” said Pilgrim. “Please get on with your journey, old Brothers. I’m off.” So the Great Sage took leave of them, and we shall say no more of that.
We tell you now about the Stars, who mounted the auspicious luminosity and went straight to the Abbey of Five Villages. The crowd at the Abbey was milling about when suddenly the cries of cranes could be heard in the sky to announce the arrival of the three elders. You could see
A sky lit up by sheens of auspicious light,
As sweet, unending fragrance filled the air.
Colored mist—a thousand strands—veiled the feathered gowns;
Fleecy clouds in petals held up the Immortals’ feet
(As green phoenixes flew
And red phoenixes soared).
Their sleeves sent a scented breeze to sweep the earth;
Their staffs, like hanging dragons, brought laughter gay;
Their beards swayed before them like medals of jade.
Their blithe, youthful features showed no grief or care;
Their strong, healthy frames were those of the blessed.
They held tallies of stars
To fill up the sea-mansions;
From their waists hung the gourds and precious scrolls.
Ten thousand decades—so grand was their age.
On the Three Islands and Ten Islets they freely lived.
They came to this world often to grant their boons
And increase man’s blessings a hundredfold.
The whole, wide world
Bright with glory and wealth!
To have now endless blessing and endless life!
Three elders riding on halos saw the Immortal Great:
What boundless peace and blessing filled the hall!
When an immortal lad saw this, he ran to make the report, “Master, the Three Stars from the sea have arrived.” Master Zhenyuan was just chatting with the Tang Monk and his disciples. Hearing the announcement, he went down the steps into the courtyard to receive the visitors. When Eight Rules saw the Star of Longevity, he grabbed him and said with a laugh, “You blubbery old codger! I haven’t seen you for a long time, and you still look so dashing! Why, you didn’t even bring along a hat!” Taking off his own monk’s cap, he plopped it on the head of the Star, clapped his hands, and roared with laughter. “Fine! Fine! Fine!” he cried. “As the saying goes, ‘Put on the cap to increase riches!’” Throwing away the cap, the Star of Longevity snapped back, “You stupid coolie! You have absolutely no manners!” “I’m no coolie,” said Eight Rules, “but you are all knaves.” “You are indeed a stupid coolie,” said the Star of Blessing, “and you even dare to call people knaves?” “If you are not the knaves of some household,” said Eight Rules again, laughing, “how is it that you come bearing the names ‘Increase Age,’ ‘Increase Blessing,’ and ‘Increase Wealth’?”
At that moment, Tripitaka ordered Eight Rules to step back while he straightened his clothes quickly to greet the Three Stars, who in turn saluted the Great Immortal as a senior colleague before they dared take a seat. After they were seated, the Star of Wealth said, “We apologize for not coming to pay our respects for such a long time. We came now especially to see you since we learned that the Great Sage Sun had caused some disturbance here.” “Has Pilgrim Sun been to Penglai already?” asked the Great Immortal. “Yes,” said the Star of Longevity. “As he had damaged the cinnabar tree of the Great Immortal, he came to our place to seek a cure. When he found out that we didn’t have any, he went elsewhere in search of it. He was afraid, however, that he would exceed the time limit of three days set by the holy monk and provoke him to recite the Tight-Fillet Spell. That is the reason why we came to see you and to ask you for an extension of the limit.” When Tripitaka heard this, he said repeatedly, “I won’t recite it! I won’t recite it!”
As they talked, Eight Rules came running in again to tug at the Star of Blessing. Demanding that he be given some fruits to eat, he began to give the Star a complete search, poking into his sleeves, frisking his waist, and even lifting up the hem of his robe. “What sort of bad manners is that, Eight Rules?” asked Tripitaka with a laugh. “I’m not ill-mannered,” said Eight Rules. “This is called ‘Every Turn’s a Blessing.’” Tripitaka again ordered him to leave. As he slogged toward the door, Idiot turned and stared fiercely at the Star of Blessing. “Stupid coolie!” said the Star. “How have I offended you that you should be so mad at me?” “I’m not mad at you,” said Eight Rules. “I’m just doing what they call ‘Turning Your Head to Look for Blessing’!” When Idiot went out of the door, he ran into a little lad holding four teaspoons while searching in the hall for the cups with which he could present tea. Eight Rules grabbed the spoons and ran into the main hall; picking up a sonorous stone, he began to strike it wildly with the spoons as he pranced about. “This monk,” said the Great Immortal, “is becoming more and more undignified!” “I’m not undignified,” said Eight Rules, laughing. “This is called the ‘Joyful Festivities of Four Seasons.’”5
We shall now stop telling you about the pranks of Eight Rules and turn instead to Pilgrim, who mounted the auspicious clouds to leave Penglai and soon arrived at the Fangzhang Mountain. It was a lovely mountain indeed, for which we have the following testimonial poem.
The soaring Fangzhang, a Heaven itself,
The primal palace where immortals meet:
Purple towers light up the three pure paths;
Floral scent floats up with five-colored mists.
Gold phoenixes oft pause on the pearly arch.
Who floods with jade cream6 the agaric fields?
Pink peaches and purple plums newly ripened
Announce an aeon’s change among the gods.
Pilgrim lowered his cloud, but he was in no mood to enjoy the scenery. As he proceeded, he was met by a gentle scented breeze and by the sounds of black cranes. Then he saw in the distance an immortal, from whom
Ten thousand motley beams lit up the sky;
Colored mists soared in endless shafts of light.
His red phoenix’s mouth held flowers fresh;
His green phoenix flew with canorous cries.
With luck like the sea and age like a mount,
He looked like a boy of sound, healthy frame.
His vase kept the cave-heaven’s ageless drug;
A seal old as the sun hung from his waist.
He brought blessings to mankind severally
And saved the world a few times from distress.
King Wu summoned him to add to his age.
He always attended the Festival of Peach.
He taught the monks to break their worldly ties,
Revealing like lightning a great way to them.
He crossed the seas to wish a man long life,
And saw Buddha often at Spirit Mount.
His holy title: Grand Thearch of the East,
First of the immortals midst smoke and mist.
Somewhat shamefacedly, Pilgrim Sun met him and said, “Grand Thearch, I’m raising my hands!” The Grand Thearch hastened to return the salutation, saying, “Great Sage, forgive me for not going to meet you. Please come to my place and let me serve you tea.” He then took the hands of Pilgrim and led him inside. It was truly a divine palace, where there were countless arches studded with pearloyster shells, jasper pools, and jade terraces. As they sat down to wait for their tea, a little lad stepped out from behind the jade screen. “How was he dressed?” you ask.
His body wore a Daoist robe of lustrous hues;
A bright silk sash was tied around his waist;
He trod the Dipper wearing a silk head wrap;7
His feet shod straw sandals to tour fairy haunts.
Refining the pristinely real
He shed his original shell.
Merit achieved, he could do as he pleased.
He learned the source of spirit, sperm, and breath
As a master would know without mistake.
He fled from fame, now owning ageless life—
The months, the seasons had no hold on him.
Passing winding corridors
To ascend royal towers,
He palmed from Heaven gods’ peaches three times.
In colored mist he left the kingfisher screens,
This lowly immortal named Dongfang Shuo.8
When Pilgrim saw him, he laughed and said, “So, this little crook is here! But there’s no peach at the Grand Thearch’s place for you to steal and eat.” Dongfang Shuo bowed to him and replied, “Old burglar! Why did you come? There’s no divine elixir at my master’s place for you to steal and eat.”
“Stop blabbering, Manqian,” cried the Grand Thearch. “Bring us some tea.” Manqian, you see, was the religious name of Dongfang Shuo. He hurried inside to fetch two cups of tea. After they had finished drinking, Pilgrim said, “Old Monkey came here to ask of you a favor. Will you grant me that?” “What favor?” said the Grand Thearch. “Please tell me.” “I recently became guardian of the Tang Monk on his westward journey,” said Pilgrim. “We were passing by the Abbey of Five Villages at the Long Life Mountain, where we were insulted by two young lads. My anger of the moment made me topple their Ginseng Fruit Tree, which led to the Tang Monk being detained for the time being. That’s why I came to ask you for a cure. I hope you’ll be generous about the matter.”
“You ape,” said the Grand Thearch. “You have no care for anything except to cause trouble everywhere. Master Zhenyuan of the Abbey of Five Villages, with the holy title of ‘Lord, Equal to Earth,’ happens to be the patriarch of earthbound immortals. How did you manage to offend someone like him? That Ginseng Fruit Tree of his, you know, is the grass of the reverted cinnabar. If you had stolen it and eaten it, you would be guilty already. Now you have gone so far as to knock the tree down. You think he’ll let you get away with that?” “Exactly,” said Pilgrim. “We did escape, but he caught up with us and scooped us up in his sleeve as if we were handkerchiefs. It’s a troublesome affair: since I could not prevail, I had to promise him that the tree would be cured. That’s why I came to beg you.”
The Grand Thearch said, “I have one grain of the Great Monad Elixir of Nine Reversions. It can cure all the sentient creatures in the world, but it cannot cure trees. For trees are the spirits of earth and wood, nourished by Heaven and Earth. Moreover, the Ginseng Fruit Tree is no tree of the mortal world; if it were, you might find a cure for it. But the Long Life Mountain happens to be a Heavenly region, and the Abbey of Five Villages is a cave-heaven of the West Aparagodānīya Continent. And the Ginseng Fruit Tree produced there is a spiritual root that came into existence at the time of creation. How could it be healed? I have no cure, none whatever!”
“If you have no cure, old Monkey will take his leave,” said Pilgrim. The Grand Thearch would have liked to offer him a cup of jade nectar, but Pilgrim said, “This is emergency business; I dare not linger.” He then mounted the clouds to proceed to the island of Yingzhou. This, too, was a lovely place, for which we have a testimonial poem. The poem says:
The elegant pearl treeg aglow in purple mists;
Yingzhou’s arches and towers touching the sky;
Green hills, blue waters, and fair coralline blooms;
Jade nectar, red steel,10 and the hard iron stone.
The five-colored cock crows at the sea’s sunrise;
The red phoenix, ageless, breathes in scarlet mists.
In vain mortals would seek this gourd-held scene,11
An endless spring beyond the world of forms.
Our Great Sage arrived at Yingzhou, where before the red cliffs and beneath the pearl trees sat several figures with luminous white hair and beards, immortals of youthful complexion. They were playing chess and drinking wine, telling jokes and singing songs. Truly there were
Hallowed clouds all filled with light;
Auspicious mists with fragrance afloat;
Colorful phoenixes calling at the cave’s entrance;
Dark cranes dancing on top of the mountain.
Jadelike lotus roots and peaches went well with wine;
Magic pears and fire dates prolonged the years.
None of them had need to heed a royal summons,
Though the divine record had each of their names.
Wholly at ease, they could wander and play;
With no work or care, they could do as they please.
The months, the years had no hold on their lives;
Throughout the great world they were completely free.
How lovely were the black apes
Who came in pairs, bowing, to present the fruits!
How friendly are the white deer
Who lay down two by two with flowers in their mouths!
Those old men were enjoying themselves when our Pilgrim walked up to them and cried, “How about letting me have some fun too?” When the immortals saw him, they quickly rose to greet him. We have a poem as a testimony, and the poem says:
The spirit roots of the Ginseng Fruit Tree snapped;
The Great Sage called on the gods for a wondrous cure.
As scarlet light poured from the divine grove,
He was met by the Nine Elders of Yingzhou.
Recognizing the Nine Elders, Pilgrim said, laughing, “Old Brothers, how content you are!” “If the Great Sage in years past had persevered in the truth,” said the Nine Elders, “and had not disrupted Heaven, he would be even more content than we are. But you are all right now. We heard that you had returned to the truth to seek Buddha in the West. Where do you find such leisure to come here?” Pilgrim then gave a thorough account of his efforts to find a cure for the tree. Astounded, the Nine Elders said, “You cause too much trouble! Just too much trouble. Honestly, we don’t have any cure.” “If you don’t,” said Pilgrim, “I shall take leave of you.”
The Nine Elders asked him to stay and drink some jade nectar and eat some lotus root. Pilgrim would not sit down but, standing, drank a glass of nectar and ate a piece of lotus. He then left Yingzhou swiftly and headed straight for the Great Eastern Ocean. Soon the Potalaka Mountain came in sight. Dropping down from the clouds, he went straight to the top of the mountain, where he saw the Bodhisattva Guanyin giving a lecture to the various celestial guardians, dragon-ladies, and Mokṣa in the purple bamboo grove. As a testimony, we have a poem which says:
The sea-mistress city’s tall with thick hallowed air.
Here you see countless marvelous things.
Know that the thousand vague and varied forms
Are all found in a book’s one soundless leaf.12
Four Noble Truths13 conferred will bear right fruit:
Six Stages,14 when listened to, will set you free.
This young grove15 has pleasures special and true:
Trees full of reddened fruits and fragrant flowers.
The Bodhisattva was the first to notice Pilgrim’s arrival, and she asked the Great Mountain Guardian to go meet him. As he came out of the grove, the guardian shouted, “Sun Wukong, where are you going?” Raising his head, Pilgrim cried, “Bear rascal! Is Wukong the name for you to take in vain? If old Monkey hadn’t spared you back then, you would have been a corpse on the Black Wind Mountain. Today you are a follower of the Bodhisattva, for you have received the virtuous fruit and you have been made a resident of this immortal mountain so that you can listen frequently to the dharma teachings. Now, with all these benefits, can’t you address me as ‘Venerable Father’?” That Black Bear, you see, had indeed attained the right fruit, but the fact that he was made a guardian of the Potalaka and given the title “Great Guardian” was something that he owed to Pilgrim. So he really could not do anything but smile and say, “Great Sage, the ancients said, ‘The princely man does not dwell on old faults.’ Why mention my past? The Bodhisattva asked me to come meet you.” Our Pilgrim at once became solemn and earnest as he followed the Great Guardian to bow down to the Bodhisattva in the purple bamboo grove.
“Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “where has the Tang Monk reached in his journey?” “The Long Life Mountain, in the West Aparagodānīya Continent,” said Pilgrim. “In that Long Life Mountain,” said the Bodhisattva, “there is an Abbey of Five Villages, which is the home of the Zhenyuan Great Immortal. Did you come across him?” Banging his head on the ground, Pilgrim said, “It was all because of your disciple, who did not know the Zhenyuan Great Immortal at that Abbey of Five Villages. I offended him by damaging his tree, and he in turn held up my master, preventing him from making any progress in his journey.”
“You mischievous monkey!” scolded the Bodhisattva, who already had knowledge of the whole affair. “You don’t know any better! That Ginseng Fruit Tree of his is the spiritual root planted by Heaven and nourished by Earth. Master Zhenyuan himself is also the patriarch of earthbound immortals, and even I must be somewhat deferential to him. Why did you damage his tree?”
Bowing low again, Pilgrim said, “Your disciple was truly ignorant. The day when we arrived at the Abbey, Master Zhenyuan was not home, and only two immortal lads were there to receive us. It was Zhu Wuneng who discovered that they had these fruits, and he wanted to try one. Your disciple stole three such fruits, which we three brothers divided up among ourselves. When the lads found out, they kept on chiding us until I became so angry that I pushed down the tree. Their master returned the following day and caught up with us; after he had scooped us up with his sleeve, he had us bound and whipped, interrogating and torturing us for a whole day. We escaped that night, but he caught up with us again and took us captive as before. Two or three times it went on like this, and when I became convinced that it was impossible for us to flee, I promised him that I would heal the tree. I have just made a complete tour of the Three Islands seeking a cure from the sea, but none of the immortals was able to give me one. That’s why your disciple has come to bow before you in all sincerity. I beg the Bodhisattva in her compassion to grant me a cure, so that the Tang Monk can soon journey toward the West.”
“Why didn’t you come see me earlier?” asked the Bodhisattva. “Why did you go looking instead on the islands?” When Pilgrim heard these words, he was secretly pleased and said to himself, “What luck! What luck! The Bodhisattva must have a cure!” He went forward again to beg some more, and the Bodhisattva said, “The sweet dew in my immaculate vase can heal divine trees or spirit roots.” “Have you tried this before?” asked Pilgrim. “Indeed,” said the Bodhisattva. “When?” asked Pilgrim.
The Bodhisattva said, “Some years ago Laozi had a wager with me: he took my willow twig and placed it in his elixir-refining brazier until it was completely dried and charred. Then he gave it back to me, and I stuck it in my vase. After one day and one night, I had my green twig and leaves again, as lovely as before.” Laughing, Pilgrim said, “I’m lucky! Truly lucky! If a scorched willow could be revived, what’s so difficult about a tree that has been knocked over?” The Bodhisattva then gave this order to the rest of her followers: “Maintain your vigilance in the grove. I’ll be back soon.” She left, balancing the immaculate vase in her hand; the white parrot flew ahead of her, while the Great Sage Sun followed from behind. We have a testimonial poem, and the poem says:
The world can’t limn this jade-browed16 golden form:
A God who pities and saves us from woes.
As stainless Buddha she met kalpas past.
A self which can do she has now attained.17
She calms passion’s billows in many lives;
Her moral nature is wholly unsoiled.
The sweet dew, long charged with true wondrous might,
Will bring the precious tree eternal life.
We now tell you about the Great Immortal, who was just having lofty conversations with the Three Elders when all at once they saw the Great Sage Sun drop down from the clouds and shout, “The Bodhisattva has arrived. Come meet her quickly! Come meet her quickly!” The Three Stars, Master Zhenyuan, Tripitaka, and his disciples all hurried out of the main hall. Stopping her sacred cloud, the Bodhisattva first exchanged greetings with Master Zhenyuan before bowing to the Three Stars. After the ceremony, she took the seat of honor as Pilgrim led the Tang monk, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk to bow to her. After that, the various immortals in the Abbey also came to greet her. “Great Immortal,” said Pilgrim, “there’s no need for further delay. You may as well prepare the table of incense at once and ask the Bodhisattva to heal that fruit tree of yours.” Bowing low to thank the Bodhisattva, the Great Immortal said, “Why should the trivial affair of this plebeian be such a concern to the Bodhisattva that she would take the trouble of coming here?” “The Tang Monk is my disciple,” said the Bodhisattva. “If Sun Wukong has wronged you, it’s only reasonable that he should make recompense and return your precious tree.” “In that case,” said the Three Stars, “there’s no further need for polite talk. May we ask the Bodhisattva to go to the garden and see what can be done?”
The Great Immortal gave the order to prepare an incense table and to sweep the grounds in the rear garden. The Bodhisattva was asked to lead the way, followed by the Three Elders, Tripitaka, his disciples, and the various immortals of the Abbey. When they arrived at the garden, they saw the tree lying on the ground—with the soil around it turned up, its roots exposed, its leaves fallen, and its branches dried up. “Wukong,” cried the Bodhisattva, “stretch out your hand.” Pilgrim stretched out his left hand. Dipping the willow twig into the sweet dew of her vase, the Bodhisattva then used it as a brush and drew on the palm of Pilgrim a charm that had revivifying power. She told him to place his hand at the base of the tree and watch for the sign of water spurting out. His hand closed tightly, Pilgrim went to the base of the tree and placed his fist on the roots. In a little while, a clear spring welled up from the ground. The Bodhisattva said, “That water cannot be touched by any instrument containing any one of the Five Phases. It must be scooped up by a jade ladle. Push the tree back up into an upright position; pour the water over it from the top down. The bark and the roots will grow back together again; the leaves will come out, the branches will turn green, and the fruits will appear.”
“Little Daoists,” said Pilgrim, “bring me a jade ladle, quickly.” “Your humble Daoist lives in a rural area,” said Master Zhenyuan, “and there is no jade ladle available. We have only jade tea cups and jade wine goblets. Can they be used?” “As long as they are made of jade,” said the Bodhisattva, “and capable of bailing water, they will be all right. Bring them here.” The Great Immortal asked the little lads to take out some thirty jade tea cups and some fifty wine goblets with which they scooped up the clear water. Pilgrim, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk raised the tree into an upright position and covered its base with topsoil. They then handed the jade cups one by one to the Bodhisattva, who sprinkled the sweet liquid onto the tree with her willow branch as she recited a spell. Before long, she stopped sprinkling, and the tree turned green all at once with thick leaves and branches. Twenty-three ginseng fruits could be seen on top. Clear Breeze and Bright Moon, the two lads, said, “When we discovered our loss the day before, we came up with only twenty-two fruits even after we had counted them over and over. Why is there an extra one today after it has been revived?” “‘Time will disclose the true intent of man,’” said Pilgrim. “Old Monkey took only three the other day; the fourth one dropped to the ground and disappeared, for as the local spirit told me, this treasure would become assimilated once it touched earth. Eight Rules kept hollering about my skimming something off the top, and that was how my act was discovered. Only today is this whole mess cleared up.”
The Bodhisattva said, “That’s why I didn’t use any instrument containing the Five Phases just now, for I know that this thing and the Five Phases are mutually resistant.” Highly pleased, the Great Immortal asked for the gold mallet at once and had ten of the fruits knocked down. He then invited the Bodhisattva and the Three Elders to go back to the main hall, where a Festival of Ginseng Fruits would be given in their honor. The little immortals duly set the tables and took out the cinnabar trays, while the Bodhisattva was asked to take the seat of honor in the center. The Three Elders were seated at the table to the left, the Tank Monk was placed at the right, and Master Zhenyuan as the host took up the seat down below. We have a testimonial poem that says:
At Long Life Mountain’s cave-heaven of old,
Ginseng fruits ripen every nine thousand years.
The spirit root exposed, hurting twigs and shoots;
The sweet dew revives, fruits and leaves made whole.
Three Elders gladly meet all these old chums;
The four monks find by luck friends foreordained.
Now they have learned to eat the ginseng fruits;
They’ll all be immortals who never age.
Presently the Bodhisattva and the Three Elders each ate a fruit. Finally convinced that this was a treasure of the immortals, the Tang Monk also ate one. Each of the three disciples also ate one, and Master Zhenyuan himself took one to keep his guests company. The last one of the fruits was divided among the other residents of the Abbey. Pilgrim thanked the Bodhisattva and the Three Stars, who went back to the Potalaka Mountain and Penglai Island, respectively. Master Zhenyuan also prepared some vegetarian wine for a banquet, during which he and Pilgrim became bond-brothers. As the proverb says,
Without fighting they would not know each other;
But now the two parties have become one household.
Happily, master and disciples spent a restful night there. Thus it was with that Elder, who was
Lucky to have tasted the grass of reverted cinnabar;
His long life would endure the ordeals of ogres.
We do not know how they will part the following day; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.