We were telling you about the Bodhisattva, who went through her recitation several times before she stopped. As the pain subsided, the monster-spirit collected himself and sat up to discover that there were golden fillets clasped tightly around his neck, his wrists, and his ankles. He wanted to take them off, but he could not even move them one whit. The treasure, you see, had taken root in the flesh, and the more he tried to loosen the fillets, the more painfully tight they felt. Laughing, Pilgrim said, “Darling boy! The Bodhisattva fears that you can’t be reared. That’s why she has made you wear a necklace and some bracelets!” Enraged by this remark, the youth picked up the lance once more and stabbed madly at Pilgrim. Dashing immediately behind the back of the Bodhisattva, Pilgrim cried, “Recite the spell! Recite the spell!”
The Bodhisattva dipped her willow twig in the sweet dew and sprinkled it at the youth, crying, “Close!” Look at him! He dropped the lance all at once, and his two hands were pressed together so tightly before his chest that he could not move them apart at all. This is thus the origin of the “Guanyin Twist,” a posture assumed by the attendant of the Bodhisattva which you can see in portraits and paintings to this day. When the youth found that he could not use his hands nor could he pick up the lance, he realized at last how deep and mysterious the dharma power was. He had no alternative but to bow his head in submission. The Bodhisattva then recited some magic words as she tilted the immaculate vase to one side; the oceanful of water was retrieved entirely and not half a drop was left behind. She said to Pilgrim, “Wukong, this monster-spirit is vanquished, but his unruliness has not been completely eliminated. Let me make him take a bow with each step of the way—all the way back to the Potalaka Mountain— before I call off my power. Go quickly now into the cave to rescue your master.” Turning to kowtow to her, Pilgrim said, “I thank the Bodhisattva for taking the trouble of traveling for so great a distance. Your disciple should escort you for part of the journey.” “No need for that,” said the Bodhisattva, “for I don’t want to jeopardize master’s life.” When Pilgrim heard these words, he was delighted and kowtowed again to take leave of the Bodhisattva. The monster-spirit thus returned to the right fruit; with fifty-three bows, he made submission to Guanyin.
We tell you no more about the Bodhisattva’s making a disciple of the youth. Instead, we speak of Sha Monk, who sat in the woods for a long time and waited in vain for Pilgrim to appear. At last, he put the luggage on the back of the horse, and with one hand holding the reins and the other the fiend-routing treasure staff, he left the pine forest to look toward the south. Momentarily, he found a happy Pilgrim approaching. Sha Monk went forward to meet him, saying, “Elder Brother, why did it take you until now to return from your trip to seek assistance from the Bodhisattva? I almost died from the anxious waiting!” “You are still dreaming!” said Pilgrim. “Old Monkey has not only brought the Bodhisattva here, but she has also subdued the fiend already.” Then he gave a thorough account of the Bodhisattva’s exercise of her dharma power, and Sha Monk was exceedingly pleased, saying, “Let’s go then to rescue Master!”
The two of them leaped across the stream and dashed up to the cave entrance. After tying up the horse, they lifted their weapons together and broke into the cave to exterminate all the fiends. They then lowered the leather bag to free Eight Rules. “Elder Brother,” said Idiot after having thanked Pilgrim, “where is that monster-spirit? Let me rake him a few times, just to relieve my feelings!” Pilgrim said, “Let’s find Master first,” The three of them went to the rear and found their master bound in the courtyard, all naked and weeping. Sha Monk hurriedly untied the ropes and Pilgrim brought forth clothes for him to wear. The three of them then knelt down and said, “Master, you have suffered!” Tripitaka thanked them, saying, “Worthy disciples, you’ve worked hard! How did you manage to subdue the demon?” Pilgrim again gave a thorough account of how the Bodhisattva came to make submission of the youth, and when Tripitaka heard this, he quickly knelt down to bow toward the south. Pilgrim said, “No need to thank her, for we also have been instrumental in providing her with the blessing of making submission of a young boy.” This is thus the basis of the story that we hear even today, about the boy who gave fifty-three bows to Guanyin,1 and who was given the vision of Buddha after three bows.
Thereafter, Sha Monk was told to pick up all the treasures stored in the cave, while the rest of the disciples found some rice to prepare for their master. That elder
Retained his life,
All because of the Great Sage Sun;
And acquired true scriptures,
Helped by the Handsome Monkey-Spirit.
Master and disciples, after leaving the cave, found their way again and headed steadfastly toward the West. They had traveled for more than a month when all at once the sound of flowing water filled their ears. “O disciples!” cried Tripitaka, highly startled, “where is this sound of water coming from?” “You old Master!” said Pilgrim, chuckling, “you are so full of worries! There are four of us altogether, but only you happen to hear some sort of water sound. You have
quite forgotten again the Heart Sūtra.” “The Heart Sūtra,” said the Tang Monk,
“was imparted to me orally by the Crow’s Nest Zen Master of the Pagoda Mountain.2 It has fifty-four sentences, all in all, two hundred and seventy characters. I memorized it at the time and up till now, I have recited it often. Which sentence do you think I have forgotten?”
Pilgrim said, “Old Master, you have forgotten the one about ‘no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind.’ Those of us who have left the family should see no form with our eyes, should hear no sound with our ears, should smell no smell with our noses, should taste no taste with our tongues; our bodies should have no knowledge of heat or cold, and our minds should gather no vain thoughts. This is called the extermination of the Six Robbers.3 But look at you now! Though you may be on your way to seek scriptures, your mind is full of vain thoughts: fearing the demons you are unwilling to risk your life; desiring vegetarian food you arouse your tongue; loving fragrance and sweetness you provoke your nose; listening to sounds you disturb your ears; looking at things and events you fix your eyes. You have, in sum, assembled all the Six Robbers together. How could you possibly get to the Western Heaven to see Buddha?” When Tripitaka heard these words, he fell into silent thought for a long time before he said, “O disciple!
Since I left our sage ruler that year,
I’ve moved most diligently night and day:
My sandals sweep open the mountain mists;
My coir hat bursts through the summit clouds.
At night the apes wail to make me sigh;
I grieve to hear in moonlight the bird cries.
When will I end the work of Double Three4
And acquire Tathāgata’s wondrous scripts?”
When Pilgrim heard this, he could not refrain from clapping his hands and roaring with laughter, saying, “So Master just can’t get rid of his homesickness! If you want to complete the work of Double Three, there’s no difficulty! The proverb says, ‘Success will come when meritorious service is done.’” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “if we have to face all these evil barriers and wicked miasmas, we’ll never finish our meritorious service even after a thousand years!” Sha Monk said, “Second Elder Brother, you and I are very much alike, and we shouldn’t rub Big Brother the wrong way with our foolish tongues and stupid mouths. Just concentrate on carrying the loads on our backs; there will be a day when the service is completed.”
As master and disciples conversed, they proceeded steadily when they saw before them all at once a huge body of surging black water blocking the path of the horse. Standing at the shore, the four of them stared at the water carefully and they saw
Tiers of dense billows;
Layers of turbid waves;
Tiers of dense billows like dark sap spilling;
Layers of turbid waves like black oil rolling.
No reflection appears when you walk near;
No trees or woods you can see from afar.
Boiling, an earth full of ink!
Rippling, a thousand miles of ashes!
Like piles of charcoal water bubbles float;
Like o’erturned coals the breakers undulate.
Cattle and sheep will not drink here;
Crows and magpies cannot fly over.
Cattle and sheep won’t drink, disdaining the black;
Crows and magpies can’t fly, fearing the opaque.
Only the shore’s reeds and rushes know the seasons,
And the bank’s flowers and grass display their green.
There are lakes, streams, and rivers in all the world,
And many brooks and lagoons both great and small,
Which one in one’s life may come upon.
But who has seen the Black River of the West?
Dismounting, the Tang Monk said, “Disciples, why is the water so black?” Eight Rules said, “Some families must have overturned their dye barrels!” “If not,” said Sha Monk, “it has to be someone washing his brushes and ink-stones.” Pilgrim said, “Stop speculating and babbling, both of you! We have to find a way to get Master across.” “If old Hog wants to cross this river,” said Eight Rules, “it’s not difficult: all I need to do is to mount the clouds or tread the waters, and I shall cross it in the time of a meal.” “If you ask old Sand,” said Sha Monk, “I, too, need only to mount the clouds or ride the waters, and I’ll cross it in no time.” Pilgrim said, “Of course, it’s easy for us, but it’ll be difficult for Master.” “Disciples,” said Tripitaka, “how wide is the river?” “Approximately ten miles,” said Eight Rules. Tripitaka said, “You three had better determine which of you will carry me across.” Pilgrim said, “Eight Rules can do it.” “No, I can’t,” said Eight Rules. “For if I carry him on my back and try to mount the clouds, I can’t even rise three feet from the ground. As the proverb says, ‘A mortal is heavier than a mountain!’ If I carry him and tread water, he will push me down below with him.”
While master and disciples were having this discussion by the river, they suddenly saw a man approaching from the upper reach of the river and rowing a small boat. Delighted, the Tang Monk said, “Disciples, we have a boat. Ask him to take us across.” Shouting loudly, Sha Monk called, “Boatman, come and ferry us across this river.” The man in the boat said, “I don’t have a ferry boat. How could I take you across?” Sha Monk said, “In Heaven or on Earth, the most important thing is to perform deeds of kindness to others. Though yours may not be a ferry boat, we are not people who will often bother you. We are the sons of Buddha sent by imperial command in the land of the East to acquire scriptures. Please be kind to us and take us across the river. You will have our gratitude.” When the man heard these words, he rowed the boat near the shore and, holding his oar, he said, “Master, my boat is small and there are many of you. How could I take you all across?”
When Tripitaka walked closer and took a look, he saw that the boat was actually a canoe dug out of a log, and its hull could at most seat only two persons besides the boatman. “What shall we do?” said Tripitaka. “With this boat,” said Sha Monk, “we will have to take two trips.” Always sly and slothful, Eight Rules immediately said, “Wujing, you and Big Brother can remain here to watch the luggage and the horse. Let me escort Master and cross over first. Then the boat can return to take you and the horse. Big Brother can simply leap across.” Nodding, Pilgrim said, “You are right.”
After Idiot had helped the Tang Monk into the boat, the boatman punted the boat away from shore and began rowing it forward. As they approached the middle of the river, a violent gust of wind suddenly arose with a roar, whipping up the waves to darken the sky and the sun. Marvelous wind!
In midair a band of dark clouds rises up;
In midstream black waves surge a thousand tiers tall.
At both banks flying sand blots out the sun;
On all sides trees fall to this Heav’n-shaking howl.
Seas and rivers o’erturned, dragon gods take fright;
Mud and dirt flown up, plants and flowers fade.
The wind roars like thunder in times of spring,
And growls like a famished tiger on and on!
Crabs, turtles, shrimps, and fishes bow their heads;
Fowl and beast have all lost their nests and lairs.
The sailors of Five Lakes are victims all;
The households of Four Seas all fear for their lives.
If fishers in the stream can’t lower their hooks;
How could the river’s boatmen punt their poles?
With tiles and bricks upturned the houses fall;
With Heaven and Earth shaken, Mount Tai quakes.
This wind, you see, was called up by the man rowing the boat, who happened to be a fiendish creature in this Black River. The disciples saw with their own eyes that the Tang Monk and Zhu Eight Rules, along with the boat, were sinking into the water. In no time at all, they vanished without a trace.
Deeply dismayed on the shore, Sha Monk and Pilgrim cried, “What shall we do? The old master faces adversity every step of the way. He just escaped from one demonic ordeal and journeyed safely for a little while before he is in the clutches again of these black waters.” Then Sha Monk said, “Could it be that the boat has capsized? Perhaps we should search for them downstream.” “No,” said Pilgrim, “it couldn’t be, for if the boat had capsized, Eight Rules with his aquatic skills could easily have picked up Master and trod water to carry him out. Just now I thought I saw something perverse about that boatman. I suppose that fellow must have called up the wind and dragged Master beneath the water.” When Sha Monk heard these words, he said, “Elder Brother, why didn’t you speak up earlier? You watch the luggage and the horse. Let me go into the water to search for them.” Pilgrim said, “The color of this water is hardly normal. I don’t think you should go in there.” “You think this water’s more formidable than my Flowing-Sand River?” asked Sha Monk. “I can go! I can go!”
Dear monk! Taking off his shirt and his socks, he lifted up his fiend-routing treasure staff and dove into the waves with a splash. Opening up the water before him, he went forward in big strides. Just as he was walking, he heard the sound of someone speaking. Sha Monk stepped to one side to sneak a glance around and he discovered ahead of him a pavilion; across its front door were written these large characters: “Hengyang Ravine, Residence of the Black River God.” Then he heard the fiendish creature, sitting in the pavilion, say, “I have gone through some hard times and only now have I found something nice. This monk is a good man who has practiced self-cultivation for ten incarnations. If I manage to eat a piece of his flesh, I’ll be a man of longevity who never grows old. I have waited for him long enough, and today I have realized my hopes. Little ones, bring out the iron cages quickly. Steam these two monks whole, while I prepare an invitation card to be sent to our second uncle. We want to celebrate his birthday for him.”
When Sha Monk heard these words, he could not restrain the fire leaping up in his heart. Lifting his treasure staff, he banged madly at the door, crying, “Brazen creature! Send out quickly my master, the Tang Monk, and my brother Eight Rules.” The little demons standing guard at the door were so frightened that they dashed inside to report, “Disaster!” “What sort of disaster?” asked the old fiend. The little fiends said, “There’s a monk with gloomy complexion outside. He’s banging on our door and demanding the return of some monks.”
When the fiend heard these words, he at once asked for his armor, which was brought out by the little fiends. After the old fiend suited himself up properly, he took up in his hands a steel riding crop with bamboo-like joints.5 As he walked out the door, he looked mean and vicious indeed! You see
A square face and round eyes flashing colors bright;
Curled lips and a mouth like a bloody bowl.
A few sparse whiskers wave like iron wires;
His temple’s flanked by hair like cinnabar.
He has the form of Jupiter revealed
And the face of a thunder god in rage.
He wears a suit of iron flower-adorned,
A gold helmet with jewels thickly set.
He holds the steel crop with bamboo-like joints,
And violent wind churns as he walks along.
At birth he was a creature of the waves;
He shed his origin. What fearsome change!
You ask for this fiend’s true identity:
Small iguana-dragon is his former name.
“Who is beating on my door?” bellowed the fiend. Sha Monk said, “You ignorant brazen fiend! How dare you use your paltry magic and change into a ferryman to abduct my master here with your boat? Return him at once, and I’ll spare your life.” The fiend roared with laughter and said, “This monk doesn’t care about his life! Your master has been caught by me, all right, and now I’m about to have him steamed to be served to my invited guests. You come up here and match strength with me. If you can withstand me for three rounds, I will return your master. If you can’t withstand me, I’ll have you steamed and eaten also. Don’t bother to dream about your going to the Western Heaven!” Maddened by what he heard, Sha Monk brought the treasure staff down on the fiend’s head, but the latter raised his steel crop to parry the blow. The two of them thus began a fierce battle at the bottom of the river.
With fiend-routing staff and crop of bamboo joints
Two men, growing enraged, both strove to win.
One, the Black River’s thousand-year-old fiend;
One, a former immortal of Divine Mists.
This one longed to eat Tripitaka’s flesh;
That one would guard the Tang Monk’s piteous life;
At the river’s bottom they met to fight,
Each craving success and nothing else.
They fought till pairs of shrimp and fish concealed themselves,
Till crabs and turtles in twos withdrew their heads.
Hear the water-home’s fiends all beat their drums
And monsters shouting madly before their gate.
This dear Wujing—what a true Buddhist priest—
Did show all alone his prowess and strength!
Waves tossed and churned and they fought to a draw
As the crop met and tangled with the staff.
Think of it! It was all for the monk of Tang
Who’d seek scriptures and bow in Buddha’s Heav’n.
The two of them fought for some thirty rounds and neither proved to be the stronger. Sha Monk thought to himself, “This fiendish creature is indeed my match. Since I cannot prevail, I may as well entice him out of the waters so that my elder brother can beat him.” Making one final feeble blow, Sha Monk turned quickly and ran with the staff trailing behind him. The monster-spirit, however, did not give chase and said instead, “You may go! I’m not going to fight with you anymore, for I have to prepare a card to invite a guest.” Panting heavily, Sha Monk leaped out of the water and said to Pilgrim, “Elder Brother, this creature is unruly!” “Since you were down there for quite awhile, did you find out what sort of monster he is?” asked Pilgrim. “Have you seen Master?”
“There’s a pavilion down there,” said Sha Monk, “and across the top of the gate outside are written these large characters: Hengyang Ravine, Residence of the Black River God. I sneaked up to it and heard him speaking inside, telling his little ones to wash and scrub some iron cages so that Master and Eight Rules can be steamed alive. He also wanted to invite his uncle to come for a birthday celebration. I got mad and pounded at the door; that was when the fiendish creature came out with a steel crop with bamboo-like joints. He fought with me for this half a day, about thirty rounds in all, and it was a draw. I faked defeat, thinking that I could lure him out here so that you could help me. But that fiendish creature was quite smart. He refused to chase me; all he wanted to do was to prepare his card to invite his guest. I came back up then.” “What sort of a monster is he?” asked Pilgrim. Sha Monk replied, “He looks like a big turtle, or else he has to be an iguana.” “I wonder,” said Pilgrim, “who is his uncle?”
Hardly had he finished speaking when a man emerged from a bend downstream. Kneeling down at a distance, he cried, “Great Sage, the water god of the Black River kowtows to you.” “Could you be that monster who rowed the boat,” said Pilgrim, “returning to deceive me again?” The old man kowtowed and wept, saying, “Great Sage, I’m not a monster. I’m the true god of this river. It was the fifth month of last year during high tide that this monster-spirit arrived from the Western Ocean, and he immediately waged a battle against me. An old and feeble person like myself could not withstand him, of course, and he therefore took by force my official residence, the Hengyang Ravine. Since he had also taken the lives of many of my water kin, I had no choice but to file suit against him in the ocean. I didn’t expect that the Dragon King of the Western Ocean was his maternal uncle, who threw out my plaint and told me instead that I should allow the monster to stay in my home. I wanted to go to Heaven to bring charges, but a humble deity and minor official like me would not get an audience with the Jade Emperor. When I heard that the Great Sage had arrived, I came especially to see you. I beg the Great Sage to exert his great power on my behalf and avenge my wrongs.”
When Pilgrim heard these words, he said, “According to what you have said, the Dragon King of the Western Ocean is definitely guilty. Now this monsterspirit has abducted my master and my younger brother, boasting that he wants to have them steamed and served to his maternal uncle for his birthday. I was about to try to seize this fiend when luckily you came to inform me. All right, river god, you stay here and stand guard with Sha Monk. Let me go into the ocean to bring the Dragon King here so that he can capture the creature.” “I’m deeply indebted to the Great Sage’s kindness,” said the river god. Pilgrim at once mounted the clouds and went straight to the Western Ocean. He stopped his somersault and, making the water-repellent sign with his fingers, he divided the waves and walked right in. As he traveled, he ran into a black fish-spirit, holding a golden box and darting up like an arrow from the depths down below. Pilgrim whipped out his iron rod and gave his head a terrific blow: alas, the brains burst out and the jaw bones cracked open. With a swish, the corpse drifted up to the water surface. When Pilgrim opened the box, he saw an invitation card inside on which this message was written:
Your foolish nephew, Clean Iguana, touches his head to the ground a hundred times to inform you,
Venerable Mr. Ao, my esteemed Second Uncle. Frequently I have enjoyed your goodly gifts, for which I
am most grateful. I have recently acquired two creatures, who happen to be monks from the Land of the
East. Since they are rare treasures in the world, your nephew dares not enjoy them by himself. As I recall
that Uncle’s sacred birthday is near, I have specially prepared a small banquet to wish you the addition of
a thousand years. It is my earnest hope that you will honor us with your presence.
“This fellow,” said Pilgrim chuckling to himself, “has handed over a formal complaint first to old Monkey!” He put the card in his sleeve and proceeded. Soon a yakṣa on patrol saw him and darted quickly back to the Water-Crystal Palace to make the report: “Great King, Father Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, has arrived.” The Dragon King Aoshun at once led his water kinsmen out of the palace to receive his visitor. “Great Sage,” he said, “please enter this small palace and take a seat, so that we may present you with tea.” “I haven’t yet drunk your tea,” said Pilgrim, “but you have drunk my wine first.” Smiling, the Dragon King said, “Since the Great Sage has made submission in the gate of Buddha, he no longer touches meat or wine. Since when have you invited me to drink?” “You haven’t gone to drink wine,” said Pilgrim, “but you have committed a crime of drinking nonetheless.” Greatly startled, Aoshun said, “What kind of crime has this small dragon committed?” Taking the card out of his sleeve, Pilgrim handed it over to the Dragon King.
When the Dragon King read it, his spirit left him and his soul fled. Hurriedly going to his knees, he kowtowed and said, “Great Sage, please pardon me! That fellow is the ninth child of my sister. Because my brother-in-law had made an error in administering wind and rain by not releasing the prescribed amount, the Heavenly Judge issued a decree and he was beheaded by the human judge, Wei Zheng, during a dream.6 My sister had no place to go and it was your little dragon who brought her here and had her cared for. Year before last she died of illness, but since her son did not have a home, I told him to stay at the Black River where he could nourish his nature and cultivate the arts of realized immortality. I did not expect him to commit such wicked crimes. This little dragon will send someone immediately to arrest him.”
“How many sons did your sister have?” asked Pilgrim. “Are they all monsters somewhere?” The Dragon King said, “My sister has nine sons altogether, but eight of them are good ones. The first, Little Yellow Dragon, lives in the Huai River; the second, Little Black Dragon, lives in the Ji River; the third, BlueBacked Dragon, lives in the Yangzi River; the fourth, Red-Whiskered Dragon, lives in the Yellow River; the fifth, Futile Dragon, strikes the bell for the Buddhist Patriarch; the sixth, Reclining-Beast Dragon, guards the roof beam in the palace of the Daoist Patriarch; the seventh, Reverent Dragon, guards the imperial commemorative arches for the Jade Emperor; and the eighth, SeaSerpent Dragon, remains at the place of my elder brother and guards the Taiyue Mountain of Shanxi Province. The ninth son is the Iguana Dragon; because of his youth and lack of official appointment, he was told last year to live in the Black River to nourish his nature. When he acquired a name, I would have transferred him to another post. I didn’t anticipate that he would disobey my decree and offend the Great Sage.”
When Pilgrim heard these words, he smiled and said, “How many husbands did your sister have?” “Only one,” said Aoshun, “and he was the Dragon King of the Jing River who was beheaded. My sister lived here as a widow and died year before last.” “One husband and one wife,” said Pilgrim. “How could they manage to produce so many different kinds of offspring?” Aoshun said, “This is what the proverb means when it says that ‘A dragon will produce nine species, and each species is different from the others.’”
Pilgrim said, “Just now I was so vexed that I was about to use the invitation card as evidence and file suit against you at the Heavenly court, charging you with conspiracy with a fiend and kidnapping. But according to what you have told me, it’s really the fault of that fellow who disobeys your instructions. I’ll pardon you this time—for the sake of my relationship with you and your brothers, and on account of the fact that that dragon is young and ignorant after all. And also, you have no knowledge of that matter. Quickly dispatch someone to arrest him and rescue my master. We’ll then decide what to do next.”
Aoshun at once gave this command to the prince, Moang: “Call up immediately five hundred young soldiers of shrimps and fishes; arrest that iguana and bring him back here for indictment. Meanwhile, let us prepare some wine and a banquet as our apology to the Great Sage.” “Dragon King,” said Pilgrim, “you needn’t be so edgy. I told you just now that I would pardon you. Why bother to prepare wine and food? I must go now with your son, for I fear that Master may be harmed and my brother is waiting for me.”
Unable to detain his guest with even desperate pleadings, the old dragon asked one of his daughters to present tea. Pilgrim drank one cup of the fragrant tea while standing up and then took leave of the old dragon. He and Moang led the troops from the Western Ocean and soon arrived in the Black River. “Worthy Prince,” said Pilgrim, “take care to catch the fiend. I’m going ashore.” “Have no worry, Great Sage,” said Moang. “This little dragon will arrest him and take him up here for the Great Sage to convict him of his crime. Only after your master has been sent up also will I dare take him back to the ocean to see my father.” Very pleased, Pilgrim left him and made the water-repellent sign with his fingers to leap out of the waves. As he reached the eastern shore, Sha Monk (who led the river god to meet him) said, “Elder Brother, you left by the air but why did you return from the river?” Pilgrim gave a thorough account of how he slew the fish-spirit, acquired the invitation card, confronted the Dragon King, and led troops back with the dragon prince. Sha Monk was exceedingly pleased; all of them then stood on the bank to wait to receive their master, and we shall speak no more of them for the moment.
We tell you now about Prince Moang, who sent a soldier of his to go before the water residence and make this announcement to the fiend: “Prince Moang has been sent here by the Venerable Dragon King of the Western Ocean.” The fiend was sitting inside when he heard this report and thought to himself, “I sent the black fish-spirit to present an invitation card to my second maternal uncle, and I haven’t received any answer since. Why is it that my uncle has not come? Why has he sent my elder cousin instead?” As he was thus deliberating with himself, a little fiend sent out to patrol the river also returned to make this report: “Great King, there is a regiment of soldiers stationed to the west of our water residence, and one of the banners has these words clearly written: Young Marshal Moang, Crown Prince of the Western Ocean.” “This elder cousin is indeed arrogant,” said the fiend. “I suppose my uncle cannot come, and that’s why the prince has been sent in his place to attend our banquet. But if he’s coming for a banquet, why bring along soldiers and warriors? Aha! I fear that there’s another reason behind this. Little ones, bring out my armor and have my steel crop ready, for I fear that he may turn violent suddenly. Let me go out to receive him and see what’s happening.” Having received this instruction, all the little fiends rubbed their fists to prepare themselves.
When the iguana-dragon walked out of the door, he saw that there was in truth a regiment of marine soldiers encamped on the right. He saw
Banners with sashes aflutter;
Halberds arranged in bright mists;
Treasure swords amassing luster;
Long lances twirling flower tassels;
Curved bows like many new moons;
Arrows as wolves’ teeth stuck up;
Scimitars big and gleaming;
Short cudgels both rough and hard.
Sea serpents, oysters, and whales,
Crabs, turtles, fishes, and shrimps—
Big and small they stood in order,
Their weapons dense and thick like hemp.
If the gen’ral did not command it,
Who’d dare step out of line one bit?
The iguana fiend went before the gate of the camp and cried out in a loud voice, “Big Cousin, your younger brother awaits you respectfully. Please come out.” A snail on patrol in the camp went hurriedly to the middle tent to report, “Your Highness, the iguana-dragon is outside calling for you.” Pressing down the golden helmet on his head and tightening the treasure belt around his waist, the prince picked up a three-cornered club7 and ran out of the camp in great strides. “Why did you ask me to come out?” he asked. Bowing, the iguanadragon said, “Your younger brother sent an invitation card to Uncle this morning. But I suppose he has declined my invitation and sent you instead. If my Big Cousin is here for the banquet, why have you called up the troops? You did not enter the water residence but you pitched camp here instead. And you even put on armor and held a weapon. Why?”
“Why did you invite your uncle to come?” asked the prince.
The fiend replied, “It was his kindness which bestowed this place on me as a residence, but I have not seen him for a long time nor have I had an opportunity to express my filial love for him. Yesterday I happened to have caught a monk from the Land of the East who, so I have heard, possesses an original body that has practiced self-cultivation for ten incarnations. If a person eats him, his age will be lengthened. I was hoping to ask Venerable Uncle to look this monk over before I put him in an iron cage and have him steamed for Venerable Uncle to celebrate his birthday.”
“You are so dim-witted!” shouted the prince. “Who do you think this monk is?” “He is a monk from the Tang court,” said the fiend, “a priest on his way to the Western Heaven to acquire scriptures.” The prince said, “You know only that he is the Tang Monk, but you don’t know how formidable his disciples are.” The fiend said, “He has under him a monk with a long snout, whose name is Zhu Eight Rules. I have caught him also and am about to have him steamed and eaten together with the Tang Monk. There is another disciple of his by the name of Sha Monk, a fellow rather dark in color and gloomy in complexion who uses a treasure staff. Yesterday this monk made a demand in front of my door for the return of his master, but I called out the river troops to face him. Several blows from my steel crop made him flee for his life. I don’t see how he could be called formidable!”
“You are ignorant!” said the prince. “The Tang Monk still has another disciple, his eldest, who happens to be the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, a golden immortal of the Great Monad who did cause great disturbance in the Celestial Palace five hundred years ago. Now he is the guardian of the Tang Monk on his way to acquire scriptures in the Western Heaven, and his name has been changed to Pilgrim Sun Wukong at the time of his conversion by the great and merciful Bodhisattva Guanyin of the Potalaka Peak. Don’t you have any other thing to do but to cause such a great disaster as this? It was that Pilgrim Sun who ran into your messenger in our ocean; he took your invitation card and went straight into the Water-Crystal Palace, charging us father and son with the crimes of ‘conspiracy and kidnapping.’ You’d better send the Tang Monk and Eight Rules back to the shore of the river immediately and return them to the Great Sage Sun. You can then rely on my apologies to him to preserve your life. But if you utter only half a ‘No,’ you might as well forget about your life or any further opportunity to live in this place!”
When the fiend heard this statement, he grew terribly angry, saying, “I’m an intimate first cousin of yours. How could you side with someone else? If I listen to you, I’ll have to send out the Tang Monk—just like that! You think there’s such an easy thing in this whole wide world? You may be afraid of that Sun Wukong, but you think I’m afraid of him, too? If he has any ability, let him come to the front of my water residence and fight with me for three rounds. I’ll return his master then, but if he can’t withstand me, I’ll capture him also and have him steamed together with his master. I won’t recognize any relative, nor will I invite any more guests! I’ll shut my door and ask my little ones to sing and dance. I’ll take the honored seat above to enjoy myself. You bet I’ll eat his mother’s!”
When the prince heard this, he opened his mouth wide and expostulated, “You brazen demon! You are truly audacious! Let’s not ask the Great Sage Sun to face you. Do you dare hold a contest with me?” “If I want to be a hero,” said the fiend, “you think I’ll be afraid of any contest?” He shouted to his little fiends, “Bring me my armor!” His cry immediately made those little fiends on his left and right bring up his armor and the steel crop. Changing their colors all at once, the two of them unleashed their strength and gave the order for the drums to sound on both sides. This battle was quite different from the previous one in which Sha Monk took part. You saw
Flags and banners luminous;
Spears and halberds ablaze.
On that side the camps were quickly broken;
On this side the doors were widely open.
Prince Moang held high his golden club,
Met by fiend iguana wielding his crop.
The cannon’s one boom made river soldiers fierce;
Three strokes of the gong aroused marine troops.
Shrimps fought with shrimps;
Crabs strove with crabs;
The whale swallowed the red carp;
The bream downed the yellow zhang;8
The shark devoured the mullet and the mackerel fled;
The rock oyster caught the clam and the mussel panicked.
Hard like an iron rod was the stingray’s whip;
Sharp like a razor was the swordfish’s jaw.
The sturgeon chased the white eel;
The whitebait seized the black pomfret.
A river full of water fiends took up the fight;
Dragon troops on both sides did join the fray
And brawled for a long time as billows churned.
Mighty as Indra was the prince Moang,
Who with a cry brought down his golden club
And caught the king of mischief, the iguana fiend.
Holding his three-cornered club, the prince feigned an opening and the monster-spirit, not realizing that it was faked, lunged forward to attack. Sidestepping quickly from his opponent’s charge, the prince brought the club down hard on the monster-spirit’s right arm and knocked him to the ground. The prince rushed up to him and gave him another kick that sent him sprawling. The marine soldiers all surged forward to pin the monster-spirit to the ground; his arms were hog-tied behind his back and his chest bone was pierced and bound with an iron chain. He was taken up to the shore to appear before Pilgrim Sun, as the prince said, “Great Sage, your little dragon has caught the monster iguana. Let the Great Sage decide what shall be done with him.”
When Pilgrim saw this, he said to the monster-spirit, “You have been disobedient to what you were told. When your Venerable Uncle gave you permission to live here, he intended for you to nourish your nature to preserve your body. At the time when you acquired a name, he would have transferred you to another post. How dare you use force to occupy the residence of the water god and abuse the kindness of your elders? How dare you exercise your paltry magic to deceive my master and my younger brother? I would like to give you a stroke of my rod, but this rod of old Monkey is quite heavy. One slight touch and your life will be finished. Let me ask you instead, where have you placed my master?” Kowtowing without ceasing, the fiend said, “Great Sage, this little iguana has no knowledge of the Great Sage’s reputation. Just now, I violated reason and morality to resist my elder cousin, who had me arrested. Now that I have seen you, I am eternally grateful to the Great Sage for sparing my life. Your master is still tied up in the water residence. I beg the Great Sage to loosen my iron chain and untie my hands. Let me go into the river and escort him out here.” On one side Moang said, “Great Sage, this is a rebellious fiend and most devious. If you turn him loose, I fear that he may plot something wicked.” “I know his residence,” said Sha Monk, “let me go and find Master.”
He and the river god at once leaped into the waves and went to the water residence down below, where they found the doors wide open but not a single little fiend. When they walked inside to reach the pavilion, they found the Tang Monk and Eight Rules still bound there and completely naked. Sha Monk hurriedly untied his master as the river god loosened the ropes on Eight Rules, after which they placed the freed prisoners on their backs and darted back to the surface of the water. When Eight Rules discovered the monster-spirit on the shore all tied up with ropes and chains, he lifted his rake and wanted to strike him, crying, “You perverse beast! You still want to eat me?” Pilgrim tugged at him, saying, “Brother, let’s spare him. Have regard for the feelings of Aoshun and his son.” Bowing, Moang said, “Great Sage, your little dragon dares not linger any longer. Since we have succeeded in rescuing your master, I must bring this fellow back to see my father. Though the Great Sage has spared his life, my father will most certainly not permit him to go unpunished. He will dispose of him in some way, I’m sure, and then we shall report to the Great Sage along with our apologies once more.”
“In that case,” said Pilgrim, “you may take him and leave. Please bow to your Honored Father for me and I shall thank him in person another time.” The prince at once led the marine soldiers and the monster-spirit into the water, where they found their way directly back to the Great Western Ocean and we shall speak no more of them.
We tell you now about the river god of the Black River, who gave thanks to Pilgrim, saying, “I am deeply indebted to the Great Sage for the recovery of my water residence.” The Tang Monk said, “Disciples, we are still stranded on the eastern shore. How shall we cross this river?” The river god said, “Venerable Father, please do not worry and mount your horse. This humble deity will open up a path for Venerable Father to cross the river.” The master indeed climbed onto the white horse, while Eight Rules held the reins, Sha Monk poled the luggage, and Pilgrim took up the rear. The river god then exercised his magic of blocking the water; as the upper reaches of the river were dammed up, the lower part of the river soon turned dry, and a wide road was thus created. Master and disciples walked safely to the western shore and, after thanking the river god, they proceeded to high ground to set out again on their way. So it was that
With help the Chan monk could now face the West;
With no waves on earth, they could cross Black River.
We do not know how finally they manage to see Buddha and acquire scriptures; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.