We were telling you about the fiend who, having had Sha Monk firmly bound, did not proceed to kill him or beat him. He did not, in fact, utter so much as an abusive word to his prisoner. Holding on to his scimitar, he thought to himself instead, “The Tang Monk is a man from a noble nation, who must know the meaning of propriety and righteousness. How could he possibly send his disciples to try to seize me, when it was I who spared his life in the first place? Aha! It has to be some sort of letter sent by that wife of mine back to her kingdom, and that’s how the news is leaked! Let me go ask her.” Turning savage all of a sudden, the monster wanted to kill the princess.
The princess, alas, was still in the dark about the whole matter. After putting on her makeup, she was walking along when she saw the fiend approaching with bulging eyes and knitted brows, fiercely grinding his teeth together. Smiling broadly, she said to him, “Husband, what’s bothering you so terribly?” “You filthy bitch!” cried the fiend. “You don’t have any regard for human relations! When I first brought you here, you didn’t utter half a word of protest. You had silk to wear and gold to put on; whatever you needed I went out to procure. You have been enjoying the goods of all four seasons and my deep affection every day. Why do you still think only of your parents, with no care at all for our marriage?” When the princess heard what he said, she was so terror-stricken that she knelt on the ground at once. “Husband,” she said, “why are you speaking such words of separation today?” “I don’t know whether it’s you or I who wants separation!” said the fiend. “I caught the Tang Monk and wanted very much to enjoy him. Why did you promise him release before you even consulted me? The fact of the matter had to be that you wrote a letter in secret and asked him to deliver it for you. If it weren’t so, why did those two monks come fighting back to my door and demand your return? Didn’t you do all this?” “Husband, you wrong me,” said the princess. “Since when did I send any letter?” “Still trying to deny it, huh?” said the fiend. “I’ve caught someone here who’s going to be a witness.” “Who’s he?” asked the princess. The old fiend said, “Sha Monk, the second disciple1 of the Tang Monk.”
Now, no human person is likely to accept death willingly even if death is near. Determined to deny everything, the princess said, “Husband, calm yourself and let us go question him. If there were a letter, I would gladly let you beat me to death. But if there were no such letter, wouldn’t you have slain me unjustly?” When the fiend heard these words, he did not wait for further discussion. Stretching forth his indigo hand that had the size and shape of a winnow, he grabbed the princess by those ten thousand locks of long, lovely hair and pulled her all the way to the front. He threw her to the ground and then went forward, scimitar in hand, to question the prisoner. “Sha Monk,” he bellowed, “since the two of you dared fight up to our door, I ask you this: was it because this girl had sent a letter back to her country that the king told you to come?”
When the shackled Sha Monk saw how furious the monster was, hurling the princess to the ground and threatening to kill her with the scimitar, he thought to himself, “Of course she sent a letter. But she also saved my master, and that was an incomparably great favor. If I admitted it freely, he would kill the princess on the spot and that would have meant our repaying kindness with enmity. All right! All right! Old Sand, after all, has followed Master all this time and I haven’t made the merest of merit. Today, I’m already a bound captive here; I might as well offer my life to repay my master’s kindness.” He then shouted, “Monster, don’t you dare be unruly! What kind of letter did she send that made you want to accuse her and take her life? There was another reason for us to come to demand from you the princess. Because you had imprisoned my master in the cave, he had the chance to catch a glimpse of the princess, her looks and her gestures. By the time we reached the Precious Image Kingdom and had our travel rescript certified, the king was making all kinds of inquiry about the whereabouts of his daughter with a painted portrait of hers. He showed my master that portrait and asked us whether we had seen her on the way. When my master described the lady he saw at this place, the king knew it was his daughter. He bestowed on us his own imperial wine and commanded us to come here to take you captive and bring his princess back to the palace. This is the truth. Since when was there a letter? If you want to kill someone, you can kill old Sand! But don’t harm an innocent bystander and add to your sins!”
When the fiend heard how heroically Sha Monk had spoken, he threw away his scimitar and lifted the princess up with both his hands, saying, “I was quite rough with you just now, and I must have offended you deeply. Please forgive me!” He helped her straighten her hair again and reset the bejeweled ornaments with great tenderness and amiability, hugging her and teasing her as they walked inside. He then asked her to take a seat in the middle of the chamber and apologized again. The princess, after all, was a rather fickle woman; when she saw how penitent he became, she, too, had a change of heart. “Husband,” she said, “if you have regard for our love, please loosen those ropes on Sha Monk a little.” When the old fiend heard that, he ordered the little ones to untie Sha Monk and lock him up instead. After he was freed and locked up, Sha Monk stood up, secretly pleased and thinking to himself, “The ancients said, ‘Kindness to others is really kindness to oneself.’ If I were not kind to her, she wouldn’t make him untie me, would she?”
The old fiend, meanwhile, asked also for wine and food to be served as a means of making further amends to the princess and calming her fears. After drinking until they were half tipsy, the old fiend suddenly changed into a brightly colored robe and girded a sword on his waist. “Mistress,” he said, caressing the princess with his hand, “you stay home and drink some more. Look after our two kids and don’t let Sha Monk get away. While the Tang Monk is still in the kingdom, I’m going there to get acquainted with my kin.” “To get acquainted with what kin?” asked the princess. “Your Father King,” said the old fiend. “I’m his imperial son-in-law and he’s my father-in-law. Why shouldn’t I go and get acquainted?”
The princess said, “You can’t go.” “Why not?” said the old fiend. The princess said, “My Father King did not win his empire by might on horseback; he inherited it from his ancestors. Since he ascended his throne in his youth, he hasn’t even left the gate of the city. We have no violent men with looks so savage and gruesome as yours. If you meet him, you might scare him and that wouldn’t be a good thing. It’s better that you not go to get acquainted.” “If you put it like that,” said the old fiend, “let me change into a handsome fellow and go there.” “Change and let me look at you first,” said the princess.
Dear monster! Right before the dining table, he shook his body once and changed into a very comely person. Truly he had
Most elegant features
And a rugged physique.
He spoke like a mandarin
And moved with the grace of youth.
Gifted as Zijian2 he could rhyme with ease;
He looked like Pan An3 when they tossed him fruits.
He put on his head a crow-tail cap,
His hair gathered in smoothly;
And wore on his body a lined, white silk robe
With wide, billowy sleeves.
Beneath his feet were patterned black boots;
Around his waist shone the five-colored belt.
He had the true bearing of a striking man:
Handsome, tall, dignified, and full of strength.
The princess was most pleased by what she saw. “Mistress,” said that fiend laughing, “is it a good transformation?” “Marvelous! Marvelous!” said the princess. “Just remember this: once you enter the court, many officials, both civil and military, will no doubt invite you to banquets, since it’s my Father King’s policy never to reject any relatives. You must be extra careful when you drink not to reveal your original appearance. For once you show yourself in your true form, you don’t look that civilized.” “No need for all that instruction,” said the old fiend. “I know what to do.”
Look at him. He mounted the clouds and soon arrived at the Precious Image Kingdom. Lowering their direction, he went before the court and said to the guardian of the gate, “The third imperial son-in-law came especially to seek an audience with the Throne. Please report this for me.” The Custodian of the Yellow Gate went before the white jade steps and made the report, saying, “Your Majesty, the third imperial son-in-law has come to seek an audience with the Throne. He is outside the gate of the court and awaits your summons.” The king was just conversing with the Tang Monk; when he heard of the third imperial son-in-law, he asked his ministers, “We have only two sons-in-law. How is it that there is a third?” “The third imperial son-in-law,” said several of the ministers, “must be that monster.” “Shall we summon him in?” asked the king. Already apprehensive, the elder said, “Your Majesty, it’s a monster-spirit! If he’s not a spirit, he will not be intelligent. He must know the future and the past, for he is able to mount the clouds and ride the mists. He’ll come when you summon him, but even if you did not, he would come in anyway. You might as well summon him in so that we might be spared any kind of hassle.”
The king gave his consent and ordered the fiend be summoned before the golden steps. He, too, went through an elaborate performance of court ritual to pay homage to the king. When all the officials saw how handsome he was, they dared not consider him a monster-spirit; being of fleshly eyes and mortal stock, they regarded him as a good man instead. When the king saw how lofty and dignified he appeared, he also thought that this was a man of distinguished abilities, fit to govern the world. “Son-in-law,” he said, “where is your home? What region are you from? When did you marry our princess? Why did you wait until today before coming to be recognized as our kin?”
“My lord,” said the old fiend, kowtowing, “your subject comes from a household east of this city, in the Current-Moon Cave of the Casserole Mountain.” The king asked, “How far is your mountain from our place?” “Not far,” replied the old fiend, “only about three hundred miles.” “Three hundred miles,” said the king. “How could our princess possibly get there to marry you?”
With clever words and the intent to deceive, the monster-spirit replied, “My lord, your subject has been fond of archery and riding since his youth, for I earn my livelihood by hunting. Thirteen years ago, I led scores of houseboys up to the mountain, and we were just sending out our hawks and hounds when we saw a large, striped tiger. It was going down the slope of the mountain carrying a young girl. It was your subject who shot the tiger with a single arrow and brought the girl back to our village, where she was revived with some warm liquids. When I questioned her about her home after saving her life, she never mentioned the word ‘princess.’ Had she declared that she was the third princess of your Majesty, would I dare be so insolent as to marry her without your consent? I would have tried to enter the golden palace and seek some kind of appointment, however lowly, in order to be worthy of her. Because she claimed, however, that she was a girl from some peasant household, your subject asked her to remain in my village. We seemed to be ideally suited for each other, and we were both willing; that’s why we’ve been married for these thirteen years. After our wedding, I was about to slaughter the tiger and use it to fete the relatives. The princess, however, requested me not to do so, and she put her reason aptly in these poetic lines:
Heaven and Earth made us husband and wife;
With no broker or witness we were wed.
Red threads4 did bind our feet in previous lives:
That’s why the tiger is our go-between.
Because of what she said, your subject untied the tiger and spared its life. Claws flailing and tail wagging, it ran away still carrying the arrow wound. Little did I anticipate that after a few years, the tiger thus spared managed to become a spirit in the mountain through self-cultivation, bent on seducing and hurting people. Some years ago, your subject had heard of several scripture pilgrims, all priests sent by the Great Tang. The tiger, I think, must have taken their lives; he probably got hold of the travel documents and changed into one of their forms to come here to deceive my lord. My lord, the person sitting on that brocaded cushion over there is none other than the tiger which carried away the princess thirteen years ago. He is not a real scripture pilgrim.”
Look at that capricious ruler! His foolish, undiscerning eyes of the flesh could not recognize the monster-spirit; instead, he regarded that entire specious speech to be the truth. “Worthy son-in-law,” he said, “how could you tell that this monk is a tiger, the one which carried away our princess?” “My lord,” said the fiend, “what your subject feeds on in the mountain are tigers; what he wears are also tigers. I sleep with them and rise with them. How could I not recognize them?” “In that case,” said the king, “make him appear in his true form.” The fiendish creature said, “Please give me half a cup of clean water, and your subject will make him appear in his true form.” The king ordered an official to fetch the water for the imperial son-in-law. Taking the cup in his hand, the fiend got up and went forward to exercise the Dim-Eyes, Still-Body Magic. He recited a spell and spat a mouthful of water on the Tang Monk, crying, “Change!” The true body of the elder at once became invisible; what everyone saw in the palace was a ferocious striped tiger instead. In those worldly eyes of the king and his subjects, the tiger truly had
A white brow and a round head,
A striped body and lightning eyes.
Its four huge paws
Were straight and rugged;
Its twenty claws
Were hooklike and sharp.
Sawlike teeth filled its mouth;
Pointed ears joined its eyebrows.
Savage, it bore the form of a big cat;
Raging, it had the shape of a brown steer.
Steel hairs stood rigidly like silver strips;
A red tongue, daggerlike, belched nasty air.
It was indeed a striped, ferocious thing,
Blasting the palace with its awesome breaths.
When the king saw it, his soul melted and his spirit fled, while many of his subjects were frightened into hiding. A few courageous military officials led the captains and guards to rush forward and began hacking away with their weapons. If it had not been for the fact that the Tang Monk this time was not yet fated to die, even twenty monks would have been reduced to minced meat. Fortunately, he had at this time the secret protection of Light and Darkness, the Guardians, the Sentinels, and the Protectors of the Faith in the air. For that reason, the weapons of those people could not harm him. The chaos in the palace lasted until evening, when the officials decided to capture the tiger alive and lock it up with chains before placing it in an iron cage. It was then stored in one of the palace chambers.
The king then gave the decree that the Court of Imperial Entertainments prepare a huge banquet to thank the imperial son-in-law for saving him from the monk. After the officials retired from court, the demon entered that evening into the Silver Peace Hall, where eighteen young palace ladies attended him; they sang, danced, and poured his wine for him. Sitting all by himself at the head table, he had on both sides of him all those lovely beauties. Look at him drink and enjoy! By about the hour of the second watch, he got drunk and could no longer refrain from mischief. Leaping up all of a sudden, he laughed hysterically for a moment and changed back into his original form. He grew violent then and
grabbed one of the girls playing the pipa5 with that big winnowlike hand of his.
With a crunch, he bit off her head. The other seventeen palace girls were so terrified that they dashed madly for hiding and shelter. Look at them:
The palace ladies panicked;
The maids-of-honor took fright—
The palace ladies panicked
Like rain-struck hibiscus bearing the night rain.
The maids-of-honor took fright
Like wind-blown peonia dancing in the spring wind.
They smashed their pipas, eager to live;
They broke their zithers, fleeing for life.
They dashed out the doors, not knowing north or south!
They quit the main hall, flying both east and west!
They scraped their jadelike features;
They bruised their lovely faces.
Every one scrambled for her life;
Each person darted for safety.
Those people ran out, but they dared not even scream or holler for fear of disturbing the Throne so late at night. Quaking and shaking, they sought to hide beneath the eaves of the low palace wall and we shall speak no more of them.
We tell you now about that fiendish creature who sat in the hall, pouring wine and drinking all by himself. After draining a glass, he would haul the bloody corpse near him and take a couple of bites. As he was thus enjoying himself inside, the people outside the palace began to spread a wild rumor that the Tang Monk was a monster-spirit. All the hubbub soon reached the Golden Lodge posthouse. At that time, there was no one at the post-house except the white horse, which was consuming hay and feed in the stall. He was originally the dragon prince of the Western Ocean, you recall, but because of past offense against Heaven, his horns were sawed off and his scales were shorn. He was changed into the white horse so that he could carry the Tang Monk to acquire scriptures in the West. When he suddenly heard people saying that the Tang Monk was a tiger spirit, he thought to himself, “My master is definitely a true man. It had to be that fiend who changed him into a tiger spirit in order to harm him. What’s to be done? What’s to be done? Big Brother is long gone, and there is no news from either Sha Monk or Eight Rules.” He waited until it was about the second watch, and then he said to himself, “If I don’t try to rescue the Tang Monk now, this merit will be undone. Finished!” No longer able to contain himself, he bit through the reins and shook off the saddle; all at once he changed himself once more into a dragon and mounted the dark clouds to rise into the air. We have a testimonial poem for him, and the poem says:
The priest goes West to seek the World-Honored One,
Though foul and fiendish vapors clog the way.
Tonight he’s a tiger, what hopeless ordeal!
The white horse drops reins his master to save.
In midair the young dragon prince saw that the Silver Peace Hall was aglow with lights, for there were eight huge candelabra standing inside with all their candles lit. As he lowered the direction of his clouds, he looked carefully and saw the monster seated alone at the head table and gorging himself with wine and human flesh. “What a worthless fellow!” said the dragon with a laugh. “He has shown his hand! He’s revealed himself! It’s not very smart, is it, to eat people! Since I don’t know the where-abouts of Master and I have only this lawless demon before me, I might as well go down there and have some fun with him. If I succeed, I might be able to catch the monster-spirit first and then rescue my master.”
Dear dragon prince! With one shake of his body, he changed himself into a palace maid, truly slender of body and seductive in appearance. She walked swiftly inside and bowed to the demon, saying, “Imperial son-in-law, please don’t hurt me. I came to pour wine for you.” “Pour then,” said the fiend. Taking up the wine pot, the little dragon began pouring until the wine was about half an inch higher than the rim of the goblet, but the wine did not spill. This was, in fact, the Magic of Water Restriction used by the little dragon, though the fiend did not know it even when he saw it. “What uncanny ability you have,” he said, highly pleased. The little dragon said, “I can pour and make it go even higher.” “Pour some more! Pour some more!” cried the fiend. The little dragon took the pot and kept on pouring, until the wine rose like a pagoda of thirteen layers with a pointed top; not a drop of it was spilled. The fiendish creature stuck out his mouth and finished a whole goblet before he picked up the carcass and took another bite. Then he said, “You know how to sing?” “A little,” said the little dragon, who selected a tune and sang it before presenting another goblet of wine to the fiend. “You know how to dance?” said the monster. The little dragon said, “A little also, but I’m empty-handed, and the dance won’t be attractive.” Lifting up his robe, the fiend unbuckled the sword he wore on his waist and pulled the blade out of the sheath. The little dragon took the sword from him and began to dance in front of the dining table; wielding the sword up and down, left and right, she created intricate patterns of movement.
Waiting until the fiend was completely dazzled by the dance, the little dragon suddenly broke the steps and slashed him with the sword. Dear monster! He lunged sideways and the blow barely missed him; the next thrust of the dragon was met by a candelabrum made of wrought iron and weighing about eighty or ninety pounds, which the monster picked up in a hurry. The two of them left the Silver Peace Palace as the little dragon changed back to his original form to do battle with the fiend in midair. This battle in the darkness was something! “How was it?” you ask.
This one was a monster born and formed on Casserole Mount;
That one was a chastised true dragon of the Western Ocean.
This one gave off bright light
Like white lightning;
That one belched out potent air
Like bursting red cloud.
This one seemed a white-tusked elephant let loose among mankind;
That one seemed a golden-clawed wild cat flown down to earth.
This one was a jade pillar propping up Heaven;
That one was a golden beam bridging the seas.
The silver dragon flew and danced;
The yellow demon flipped and flopped.
The precious sword, left and right, did not slow down;
The candelabrum, back and forth, went on and on.
After the two of them had fought at the edge of the clouds for about eight or nine rounds, the little dragon’s hand grew weak and his limbs turned numb. The old demon, after all, was strong and powerful; when the little dragon found that he could no longer withstand his adversary, he aimed the sword at the monster and threw it at him. The monster, however, was not unprepared for this desperate move; with one hand, he caught the blade, and with the other, he hurled the candelabrum at the little dragon. Unnerved, the dragon did not duck fast enough and one of his hind legs was struck by it. Hastily he dropped down from the clouds, and it was his luck that the imperial moat was there to save his life. Chased by the demon, the little dragon dove headfirst into the water and all at once became invisible. Whereupon the demon took the sword and picked up the candelabrum to go back to the Silver Peace Palace; there he drank as before till he fell asleep, and we shall speak no more of him for the moment.
We tell you instead about the little dragon, who hid himself at the bottom of the moat. When he did not hear a sound after half an hour, he gritted his teeth to endure the pain in his leg and leaped up. Treading the dark clouds, he returned to the post-house where he changed once more into a horse and lay down in the stall. He looked pitiful indeed—completely soaked and wounded on his leg! At this time,
Horse of the Will and Ape of the Mind are all dispersed;
Metal Squire and Wood Mother are both scattered;
Yellow Dame is wounded, from every one divorced;
With reason and right so parted, what can be achieved?
Let us say no more about how Tripitaka met disaster and the little dragon encountered defeat. We tell you instead about that Zhu Eight Rules, who, since abandoning Sha Monk, stuck his head deep into the bushes and lay there like a hog snoozing in a pool of mud. The nap, in fact, lasted till the middle of the night, and only at that time did he awake. When he became conscious, he did not even know where he was at first; only after he rubbed his eyes and collected his thoughts a little did he manage to cock his ears to listen to whatever might be happening. Well, what happened was that
This deep mountain had no dog barking;
These spacious wilds lacked even cock crowing.
Looking up at the stars, he figured that it was about the hour of the third watch and he thought to himself, “I would like to try to rescue Sha Monk, but
One silk fiber is no thread;
A single hand cannot clap!
Okay! Okay! Let me go back and see Master first. If I could persuade the king to give me some more help, old Hog would return to rescue Sha Monk tomorrow.”
Idiot mounted the clouds quickly and went back to the city; in a little while, he reached the post-house. The moon was bright and people had become quiet at this time, but he searched the corridors in vain to find any trace of his master. All he saw was the white horse lying there: his whole body was soaked and on one of his hind legs was the mark of a bruise about the size of a pan. “This is doubly unfortunate!” said Eight Rules, greatly startled. “This loser hasn’t traveled. Why is he sweating like that, and with a bruise on his leg? It must be that some evil men have robbed our master, wounding the horse in the process.”
The white horse recognized that it was Eight Rules; assuming human speech suddenly, he called out: “Elder Brother!” Idiot was so shaken that he fell on the ground. Pulling himself up, he was about to dash outside when the white horse caught hold of the monk’s robe by his teeth, saying again, “Elder Brother, don’t be afraid of me.”
“Brother,” said Eight Rules, still shaking, “why are you talking today? When you talk like that, it has to mean that some great misfortune is about to befall us.” The little dragon said, “Did you know that Master had landed in a terrible ordeal?” “No, I didn’t,” said Eight Rules.
The little dragon said, “Of course, you didn’t! You and Sha Monk were flaunting your abilities before the king, thinking that you could capture the demon and be rewarded for your merit. You didn’t expect that the demon was so powerful and you were the ones no doubt who were beaten. At least one of you could have returned to give us the news, but there was not one word from either of you. That monster-spirit had changed himself into a handsome scholar and broken into the court to present himself to the king as an imperial relative. Our master was changed by him into a ferocious striped tiger, who was then taken captive by the officials and locked up in an iron cage in one of the palace chambers. When I heard how Master suffered, my heart felt as if it had been stabbed by a sword. But you were gone for nearly two days, and I was afraid that any further delay might mean that Master would be killed. So I had no choice but to change back into my dragon body to go and try to rescue him. When I reached the court, I couldn’t find Master, but I met the monster in the Silver Peace Palace. I changed into the form of a palace maid, trying to deceive him. He asked me to do a sword dance, during which I tried to slash him. He escaped my blow and defeated me instead with a candelabrum. I tried desperately to hit him when I threw the sword at him, but he caught it instead and gave me a blow on my hind leg with that candelabrum. I dived into the imperial moat and saved my life; the bruise on my leg was caused by the candelabrum.”
When Eight Rules heard these words, he said, “Is that all true?” “You think I’m deceiving you?” said the little dragon. Eight Rules asked, “What are we going to do? What are we going to do? Can you move at all?” “If I can,” said the little dragon, “what then?” “If you can move at all,” said Eight Rules, “move into the ocean then. Old Hog will pole the luggage back to the Old Gao Village to pick up my wife again.” When the little dragon heard this, he clamped his mouth onto Eight Rules’s shirt and refused to let go. As tears fell from his eyes, he said, “Elder Brother, you mustn’t become indolent.” “Why not?” said Eight Rules. “Brother Sha has already been caught by him, and I can’t beat him. If we don’t scatter now, what are we waiting for?” The little dragon thought for some time before he spoke again, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Elder Brother, don’t mention the word scatter. If you want to save Master, you have to go and ask a person to come here.” “Who is that?” asked Eight Rules. The little dragon said, “You’d better hurry and mount the clouds to go to the Flower-Fruit Mountain, so that you can invite our Big Brother, Pilgrim Sun, to come back. Most certainly he has dharma power great enough to subdue this fiend and rescue Master, avenging at the same time the shame of our defeat.”
“Brother,” said Eight Rules, “let me go ask someone else. That monkey and I are not on the best of terms, you know. When he killed that Lady White Bone back there on the White Tiger Ridge, he was mad at me already for wheedling Master into reciting the Tight-Fillet Spell. I was just being frivolous, and I didn’t think that the old priest would really recite it and even banish him. I don’t know how he hates me now, and I’m certain also that he won’t come back. Suppose we have a little argument then: that funeral staff of his is pretty heavy, you know. If he doesn’t know any better at that moment and gives me a few strokes, you think I’ll be able to live?” The little dragon said, “He won’t hit you, because he is a kind and just Monkey King. When you see him, don’t say that Master is in peril; just tell him that Master is thinking of him and deceive him into coming. When he gets here and sees what’s happening, he will not get mad. He will want most certainly to have it out with the monster-spirit instead. Then the demon will surely be caught and Master will be saved.” “All right, all right!” said Eight Rules. “You are so dedicated. If I don’t go, it’ll mean that I’m not dedicated. I’ll go, and if indeed Pilgrim consents to come, I’ll return with him. But if he is unwilling, then don’t expect me, because I won’t be coming back either.” “Go! Go!” said the little dragon. “He will certainly come.”
Idiot indeed put away his muckrake and straightened his shirt. He leaped up and mounted the clouds, heading straight toward the East. It so happened that the Tang Monk was not yet fated to die. The wind was blowing in the right direction; all Idiot had to do was to stick up his huge ears, and he sped across the Eastern Ocean as if sails were hoisted on him. The sun was just rising when he dropped from the clouds to find his way in the mountain. As he was walking, he heard someone talking. He took another careful look and found Pilgrim sitting on a huge boulder in a mountain valley. Before him some one thousand and two hundred monkeys lined up in ranks, all shouting, “Long live our Father Great Sage!” Eight Rules said, “What pleasures! What pleasures! No wonder he doesn’t want to be a monk and wants only to come home! Look at all these goodies! Such a huge household, and so many little monkeys to serve him! If old Hog has a large farm like this, I’m not going to be a monk either. Since I’ve arrived, what shall I do? I suppose I’ll have to see him.”
But Idiot was in truth afraid of Pilgrim, and he dared not show himself openly. Sliding down the grassy meadow, he crawled stealthily into the midst of those thousand-odd monkeys and began to kowtow also along with them. He had no idea how high the Great Sage was sitting and how sharp his vision was. Having seen everything all at once, the Monkey King asked, “Who is that barbarian in the ranks who’s bowing in such a confused manner? Where does he come from? Bring him up here!” Hardly had he finished speaking when the little monkeys, like a swarm of bees, pushed Eight Rules to the front and pressed him to the ground. Pilgrim said, “Barbarian, where did you come from?” “I dare not accept the honor of your questioning me,” said Eight Rules, his head lowered. “I’m no barbarian, I’m an acquaintance.”
Pilgrim said, “All the monkeys under the command of the Great Sage here have similar features, not like that lubberly face of yours. You must be some fiendish demon from another region. If so, and if you want to be a subject of mine, you should have first presented us with your name and the particulars of your age and antecedents on a card so that I can take your roll when you are assigned to our ranks here. But you haven’t even done that, and you dare kneel here to bow to me?” With his head and snout lowered, Eight Rules said, “Oh, for shame! I’ll show you my face! I have been a brother of yours now for a few years, and you still claim that you don’t recognize me, calling me some kind of barbarian!” “Raise your head and let me have a look,” said Pilgrim with a chuckle. Sticking his snout upward, Idiot said, “Look! Even if you can’t recognize me, you can at least recognize this snout of mine!” Pilgrim could not refrain from laughing and saying, “Zhu Eight Rules.” As soon as he heard this, he jumped up, crying, “Yes! Yes! I am Zhu Eight Rules.” He thought to himself also, “If he recognizes me, then it’s easier to speak.”
Pilgrim said, “Why aren’t you accompanying the Tang Monk to go fetch scriptures? Why are you here? Could it be that you, too, have offended Master and he banished you also? Do you have any letter of banishment? Let me see it.” “I didn’t offend him,” said Eight Rules, “and he didn’t give me any letter of banishment. Nor did he dismiss me.” “If there’s no letter and he didn’t dismiss you, why are you here?” asked Pilgrim. Eight Rules replied, “Master has been thinking of you; he told me to come and invite you to go back.”
“He didn’t think of me, nor did he invite me,” said Pilgrim. “He swore to Heaven that day and he wrote the letter of banishment himself. How could he think of me and ask me to go back? I definitely will not go back.” Eight Rules lied conveniently, saying, “He really did think of you! He really did think of you!” “What made him think of me?” asked Pilgrim. Eight Rules said, “As Master was riding on the horse, he called out at one point, ‘Disciple.’ I didn’t hear him, and Sha Monk claimed that he was somewhat deaf! Master at once thought of you, saying that we were worthless and that only you were smart and alert enough to answer once you were called, to give ten replies to one question. That’s how he thought of you, and he has sent me specially to ask you to go back. Please do so, at least for the sake of his expectation and for the sake of my having traveled all this distance.”
When Pilgrim heard these words, he jumped down from the boulder. Taking the hand of Eight Rules, he said, “Worthy Brother, sorry that you have to travel such a great distance to come. Let’s you and I go and have some fun.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “this place is quite far away, and I fear that Master might be kept waiting. I don’t want to play.” Pilgrim said, “After all, this is your first time here. Take a look at least at my mountain scenery.” Idiot dared not persist in his refusal and had to walk away with him.
The two of them proceeded hand in hand, while the little monsters followed behind to go up to the highest spot on the Flower-Fruit Mountain. Marvelous mountain! Ever since the Great Sage’s homecoming, it had been completely made new by his labor these few days. You see the mountain
Green as carved jade,
Tall like a cloud-scraper.
All around are tigers crouched and dragons coiled;
On four sides are frequent calls of apes and cranes.
At dawn the clouds blockade the summit;
At dusk the sun is poised above the forest.
The flowing stream murmurs like tingling girdle-jade;
The brook sounds drop by drop a psaltery note.
Before the mountain are ridges and tall cliffs;
Behind the mountain are flowers and dense woods.
It touches the jade-girl’s hair-washing bowl above;
It joins a branch of Heaven’s River down below.
This cosmos-formed beauty surpasses Penglai,
A true cave-mansion born of primal breaths.
Even master artists find it hard to sketch,
Nor can wise immortals depict it all.
Like openworks carved finely fantastic rocks
In fantastic colors soar up at the top.
The sun moves in a thousand purple rays;
Auspicious air forms countless strands of red mist.
A cave-heaven, a blessed place among mankind:
A mountain full of fresh blossoms and fresh trees.
Delighted by the endless splendor of the scenery, Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, what a lovely place! Truly the number one mountain in the whole world!” “Worthy Brother,” said Pilgrim, “think you can pass the time here?” “Look at the way Elder Brother talks!” chuckled Eight Rules. “This precious mountain is a cave-heaven, a land of blessing. How could you say ‘pass the time’?” The two of them chatted amiably for a long time before descending from the peak. They met on the way several little monkeys, all holding purple grapes, fragrant pears, bright golden loquats, and dark red strawberries. Kneeling by the road, they cried, “Father Great Sage, please have some breakfast.” “My Brother Zhu,” said Pilgrim, laughing, “has a huge appetite, and he doesn’t take fruits for breakfast. Nonetheless, please don’t be offended by such trifles; use them as snacks and take a few.” Eight Rules said, “Though I have a huge appetite, I do as the natives do anywhere. Yes, by all means bring them up here. I’ll try a few for taste.”
The two of them ate the fruits, and the sun was fast rising high. Afraid that there might not be enough time to save the Tang Monk, Idiot tried to urge his companion to leave, saying, “Elder Brother, Master is waiting for us. Please hurry and go.” “Worthy Brother,” said Pilgrim, “I’m inviting you to have some fun with me at the Water-Curtain Cave.” Eight Rules at once declined, saying, “I appreciate your kind thoughts, Old Brother, but Master has waited for a long time already. There’s really no need for us to enter the cave.” “In that case,” said Pilgrim, “I dare not detain you. I’ll say good-bye right here.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “aren’t you going with me?” Pilgrim said, “Go where? This place of mine is neither governed by Heaven nor controlled by Earth. I’m completely free here. Why shouldn’t I enjoy this? Why should I become a monk again? I will not go. You have to go back by yourself. And please tell the Tang Monk that once he has dismissed me, don’t ever think of me again.” When Idiot heard these words, he dared not press any further, for he was afraid that Pilgrim’s temper might flare and he would then receive a couple of strokes from the rod. He had no alternative but to take leave meekly and find his way back.
When Pilgrim saw him leave, he ordered two agile little monkeys to follow him and to find out what he was going to say. Indeed, when that Idiot descended the mountain, he did not cover more than three or four miles before he turned around and pointed his finger at the direction of Pilgrim. “You ape,” he cried, “you don’t want to be a priest! You choose to be a monster instead. What an ape! I came here with good intentions to ask him to go back, but he refused. All right! If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to!” He took a few steps and began his castigations again. The two little monkeys ran back to report, “Father Great Sage, that Zhu Eight Rules is rather sneaky! He’s ranting at you as he walks away.” Pilgrim grew angry and shouted, “Seize him!” All the little monkeys rushed after Eight Rules and pushed him to the ground. Clutching at his mane and tugging at his ears, pulling his tail and grabbing his hair, they hauled him bodily back to the cave. We do not know how he will be treated or what will happen to him; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.