We were telling you about the Great Sage Sun, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk, who took leave of the elder Chen and went to the edge of the river. “Brothers,” said Pilgrim, “the two of you must decide which one will go first into the water.” Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, neither of us is particularly capable. You are the one who should enter the water first.” “To tell you the truth, Worthy Brother,” said Pilgrim, “if this were a monster-spirit in a mountain, there would be no need for both of you to exert yourselves. But I can’t quite do business in water. If I were to go into the ocean or walk in a river, I would have to make the water-repelling sign with my fingers, or else I would have to change into a fish or a crab before I could go in. Since I had to make the sign, I would not be able to use my iron rod properly to attack the fiend. But both of you are used to water, and that’s why I am asking you to go.” “Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “we can go in all right, but we don’t know what to expect once we reach the river bottom. I think we should all go in; you can change into some kind of creature, and I can carry you along as I open up a path in the water. Once we find the lair of the fiend, you can then go inside and scout the place. If Master is still there unharmed, we can begin our assault at once with all our might. But if it were not this fiend who used the magic, or if Master had been drowned or eaten already by him, then there would be no need for us to engage in this bitter quest. We might as well go off in another direction as quickly as possible. How about that?” “What you said, Worthy Brother,” said Pilgrim, “is most reasonable. Which one of you will carry me?” Secretly pleased, Eight Rules thought to himself, “I don’t know how many times this ape has made a fool of me! So he doesn’t know how to handle himself in water. Let old Hog carry him and give him a taste of his tricks!” Laughing amiably, Idiot said, “Elder Brother, I’ll carry you.” At once perceiving his intentions, Pilgrim nonetheless played along with him, saying, “All right, that’s fine. Your arms might be even a bit stronger than Wujing’s.” Thus Eight Rules carried Pilgrim on his back.
As Sha Monk divided the water to make a path, the three brothers all plunged into the Heaven-Reaching River. After journeying for over a hundred miles toward the bottom, that Idiot was about to play a trick on Pilgrim, who at once pulled off a piece of hair, which he changed into a spurious form of himself clinging to the back of Eight Rules. His true self was changed into a hog louse securely lodged in one of Eight Rules’s ears. As Eight Rules walked along, he suddenly and deliberately stumbled so that Pilgrim was sent flying over his head. The spurious form, however, was only a transformed piece of hair; once it left the back of Eight Rules, it drifted away with the current and soon vanished. “Second Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “how would you explain this? Why didn’t you walk more carefully? It would have been all right if you had fallen in the mud. Now the jolt has sent Big Brother off to who knows where!” Eight Rules said, “That monkey can’t even stand a fall: just once and he’s melted already. Brother, don’t worry whether he’s dead or alive. You and I can go search for Master.” “It’s no good,” said Sha Monk, “for we must have him. Though he may not feel at home in water, he is far more agile than we. If he’s not around, I shall not go with you.” Unable to contain himself any longer, Pilgrim inside Eight Rules’s ear shouted with a loud voice, “Wujing, old Monkey’s right here!” On hearing this, Sha Monk laughed and said, “O dear! This Idiot is as good as dead! How dared you try to play a trick on him? Now you can hear him but you can’t see him. What are you going to do?” Eight Rules became so frightened that he went to his knees in the mud and kowtowed, saying, “Elder Brother, it’s my fault! Wait till we rescue Master, and I shall apologize to you once more on the shore. Where are you making all this noise from? I’m scared to death! Please reveal your original form. I’ll carry you, and I’ll never dare offend you again.” Pilgrim said, “You are still carrying me, all right! I won’t trick you. Let’s get going quickly!” Still muttering his apologies, Idiot scrambled up and proceeded with Sha Monk.
They journeyed for another hundred miles or so when they came upon a towered building all at once, on which there was, in large letters, the inscription: “Sea-Turtle House.” “This must be the residence of the monster-spirit,” said Sha Monk, “but we don’t know that for sure. How could we go up to the door to provoke battle?” “Wujing,” said Pilgrim, “is there any water around the gate?” Sha Monk said, “No.” “In that case,” said Pilgrim, “the two of you go and hide on both sides of the door. Let Old Monkey go and scout around.”
Dear Great Sage! Crawling free of Eight Rules’s ear, he shook his body once and changed again into a shrimp-mother with long legs. With two or three leaps, he bounded right inside the gate. As he looked around, he saw the fiend sitting up there while his watery kinsfolk stood in two rows beneath him. There was also a striped-coated perch-mother sitting by his side. They were all having a discussion on how to eat the Tang Monk. Pilgrim looked left and right with great care, but he could not find his master at all. Just then he saw a large-bellied shrimp-mother come out and stand still in the western corridor. Pilgrim leaped up to her and greeted her, saying, “Mama, the Great King is discussing with the
others how to eat the Tang Monk. But where is the Tang Monk?” “He was
captured yesterday,” said the shrimp-mother, “after the Great King brought down the snow and created the ice. He is now imprisoned in a stone box at the rear of the palace. If by tomorrow his disciples do not show up to cause any trouble, we will make music and feast on him.”
After he heard this, Pilgrim chatted further with her for awhile before moving toward the rear of the palace. He looked, and sure enough there was a stone box, somewhat like a pigsty that people use in a pigpen or a stone coffin. Measuring it, he found it to be approximately six feet in length. He crawled on top of it and soon heard the pitiful sound of Tripitaka’s weeping coming from inside. Not uttering a word, Pilgrim cocked his ear to listen. Grinding his teeth in sheer frustration, the master said:
I loathe River Float, a life plagued by woes!
How many water perils bound me at birth!
I left my mother’s womb to be tossed by waves;
I plumbed the deep, seeking Buddha in the West.
I met disaster at Black River before;
Now in this ice-break, my life will expire.
I know not if my pupils can come here,
Or if with true scriptures I can go home.
Pilgrim could not refrain from calling out, “Master, don’t be annoyed. The
Water-Calamity Book says,
Earth is the mother of the Five Phases;
But water is their very source.
Without earth there is no life;
Without water there is no growth.
Old Monkey has arrived!” On hearing this, Tripitaka said, “O Disciple! Please save me!” “Try to relax,” said Pilgrim. “Wait till we seize the monster-spirit and you will be freed from your ordeal.” “Get moving quickly!” said Tripitaka. “One more day and I’ll suffocate!” “That won’t happen! That won’t happen!” said Pilgrim. “I’m off!” Turning around, he leaped right out of the gate and changed back into his original form. “Eight Rules!” he shouted. Idiot and Sha Monk drew near, saying, “Elder Brother, what did you find out?” “It was this fiend all right,” said Pilgrim, “who captured Master. He is not yet hurt, but he is imprisoned in a stone box. The two of you should provoke battle at once after old Monkey has gone back up to the surface of the water. If you two can capture him, do so; but if you can’t, feign defeat and entice him out to the surface. I’ll attack him then.” “Have no worry, Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk. “You leave first and let us size up the situation.” Making the water-repelling sign with his fingers, Pilgrim darted out of the river and stood on the bank to wait for them.
Look how violent that Eight Rules could become! Dashing up to the gate, he shouted in a severe voice, “Brazen fiend! Send my master out!” The little monsters inside the gate were so alarmed that they went hurriedly to report, “Great King, someone at the gate is demanding his master.” “That must be one of those brazen monks,” said the monster. “Bring out my armor!” The little fiends took it out quickly. After he was properly suited up, the monster picked up his weapon and walked out the gate. Facing him on the left and on the right were Eight Rules and Sha Monk, who stared intently at him. Dear monster! Look at him!
His head wore a gleaming helmet of gold.
A gold cuirass he had that flashed red light.
Pearl- and jade-studded, a belt wrapped his waist.
His feet wore strange boots of tobacco brown.
The bridge of his nose rose high like a ridge.
His forehead seemed like a dragon’s, broad and wide.
Both round and fierce his blazing eyes would glare.
His teeth, like steel swords, were even and sharp.
His tousled short hair did shoot up like flames.
His long beard was groomed like a golden awl.
His mouth held a pond weed, tender and green.
His hands gripped a nine-grooved red bronze mallet.
As the gates swung wide open with a creak,
He bellowed like the thunder of triple spring.
Features like his are rare in human world.
Hence he’s called Great King of Numinous Power.
After the fiend walked out of the gates, about a hundred little imps, all wielding lances and swords, followed him out and stood in two columns behind him. “From which monastery have you come,” he asked Eight Rules, “and why are you causing a disturbance here?” “You brazen creature!” shouted Eight Rules. “You were almost beaten to death! You argued with me the other night, and yet you dare play ignorant and ask me again today? I am a disciple of a holy monk from the Great Tang in the Land of the East, and a pilgrim journeying to see Buddha in the Western Heaven for scriptures. Be-fooling the people with your empty magic, you are even audacious enough to call yourself Great King of Numinous Power and indulge in devouring virgin boys and girls from the Chen village. I am One Load of Gold from the family of Chen Qing. Can’t you recognize me?”
“Monk,” said the monster, “you are quite unreasonable! For taking on the form of One Load of Gold, you should be charged with the crime of false identity. Not only did I not eat you, but the back of my hand was also wounded by you. I have yielded to you already. How dare you come seeking trouble right up to my door?” “If you had yielded,” said Eight Rules, “then why did you raise up the cold wind and send down the great snowfall? Why did you make the ice to trap my master? Send him out quickly and all will be well. If but half a ‘No’ escapes from your teeth, I’ll never spare you! Just look at this rake in my hands!” On hearing this, the fiend smiled sarcastically and said, “Monk, you are wagging your tongue and bragging! It was I, indeed, who brought the snow and froze the river to abduct your master. Now you are clamoring at my door and demanding his return, but this time, I fear, is not quite the same as the time before. Previously, I brought no weapon with me as I thought I was attending a feast, and you took advantage of me. Don’t run away now, because I’m going to fight with you for three rounds. If you can withstand me, I will return your master; if you cannot, I’ll eat you also.”
“My darling child!” said Eight Rules. “That’s the way to talk! Take care, watch my rake!” “So you became a monk midway in your life,” said the fiend. Eight Rules said, “My dear boy, you do have a little Numinous power! How did you know that I became a monk midway in my life?” “Since you are using a rake,” said the fiend, “you must have been hired as a gardener somewhere, and now you have stolen even your master’s rake!” “Son,” said Eight Rules, “this rake of mine is no garden tool. Look!
The huge teeth are forged like dragon claws;
Its handle, white-gold wrapped, is serpent shaped.
When it’s used in battle, cold wind swoops down;
When it’s put to combat, bright flames spring up.
Able to smite fiends for the holy monk,
It catches monsters on the westward way.
When I move it, mist hides the sun and moon.
When I use it, bright, colored lights will shine.
Mount Tai’s toppled, and a thousand tigers cringe.
The sea’s upturned, ten thousand dragons fear.
Though you may have Numinous power,
One blow will give you nine big, gaping holes!”
That fiend, of course, would not take such words seriously! He raised his bronze mallet and brought it down on Eight Rules’s head. Using his muckrake to parry the blow, Eight Rules said, “You brazen creature! So, you too, became a spirit midway in your life!” “How could you tell that I became a spirit midway in my life?” asked the fiend. “If you know how to use a bronze mallet,” said Eight Rules, “you must have been a laborer hired by some silversmith to tend the fires. You took advantage of him and stole his mallet!” The fiend said, “This is no mallet for forging silver. Look!
Nine segments formed like petals of a flow’r;
Though hollow the stem’s made of evergreen.
It’s not anything of this mortal world,
It has its birth and name in the house of gods.
Green seeds and cases aged in the jasper pool;
Pure scent and nature born of a jade-green pond.
Since I toiled to temper and refine it,
It’s charged with magic and it’s hard as steel.
Swords, halberds, and spears—all can’t rival it.
Axes and lances—none can withstand it.
Though your rake may be like a sharp-edged sword,
My mallet will break it as it breaks a nail!”
When Sha Monk saw how the two of them engaged in such exchanges, he could no longer restrain himself from approaching them and shouting, “Fiend! Stop this boasting! The ancients said, ‘What’s spoken proves nothing; only deeds are visible!’ Don’t run away. Have a taste of my staff!” Using the mallet to parry the blow, the fiend said, “So, you also are someone who became a monk midway in your life!” “How did you know?” asked Sha Monk. “The way you look,” said the fiend, “you resemble someone who used to work in a pastry shop.” Sha Monk said, “How could you tell that I used to work in a pastry shop?” “If you didn’t work there,” said the fiend, “how could you learn to use a rolling pin, like the one they made noodles with?” “You cursed thing!” scolded Sha Monk. “Of course, you haven’t seen anything like this before!
This kind of weapon is rare in the world;
That’s why you don’t know the treasure staff’s name.
It came from the moon—the shadowless spot—
Carved from a piece of divine śāla wood.
Outside it’s decked with jewels luminous;
Within, a hub of gold’s most glorious.
In bygone days it attended royal feasts;
Now it follows Right and guards the Tang Monk.
Few may know it on the way to the West;
Great fame it has in the Region Above.
It’s called the fiend-routing treasure staff:
One blow and it will surely crack your skull!”
In no mood to talk further, the fiend charged him; the three of them turned ferocious all at once and began a fierce battle at the bottom of the river.
Bronze mallet, treasure staff, and muckrake:
Wuneng and Wujing both engaged the fiend.
One was Heavenly Reeds descending to earth;
One was a divine warrior coming from the sky.
Both attacked the water fiend, showing their power.
This one withstood alone the god-monks—a laudable show!
Proper affinity can perfect the great Dao:
Mutual growth or conquest holds Ganges’ sand.
Earth conquers water,
And the bottom’s seen when water dries up;
Water begets wood
Which, flourishing, will bloom like flowers.
Chan and Dao, nurtured, lead to the same essence;
Elixir, refined and forged, tames the three parties.
Earth is mother
Sprouting golden shoots;
Gold begets divine water and the baby’s born.
Water’s the source
To moisten wood.
And wood, thriving, brings forth strong, bright fire.
The conjoined Five Phases will all differ:
That’s why they strive, each changing colors.
Look! Each petal of that bronze mallet was fine and bright;
The treasure staff was wrapped in a thousand strands of silk.
The rake, made according to yin-yang and the stars,
Dealt sundry blows without style or number.
They risked their lives for the monk’s ordeal;
They courted death for Śākyamuni’s sake.
The bronze mallet was kept busy all the time,
Blocking staff on the left and rake on the right.
The three of them fought for some two hours underneath the water and no decision could be reached. Supposing that they could not prevail against him, Eight Rules winked at Sha Monk, and the two of them at once feigned defeat. They turned and fled, their weapons trailing behind them. “Little ones,” ordered the fiend, “stay here. Let me catch up with these fellows and bring them back for you to eat.” Look at him! Like the wind blowing dead leaves and the rain beating down the withered flowers, he pursued them right up to the surface of the water.
On the eastern shore, the Great Sage Sun was staring at the water with unblinking eyes. Suddenly huge waves arose in the river and there were shouts and roars. Eight Rules was the first to leap ashore, crying, “He’s coming! He’s coming!” Sha Monk, too, rushed up to the bank, crying, “He’s coming! He’s coming!” He was pursued by the fiend, who yelled, “Where are you running to?” No sooner did he clear the water, however, than he was met by Pilgrim, shouting, “Watch the rod!” Quickly swerving to dodge the blow, the fiend met him with upraised mallet. One of them churned up the waves near the edge of the river, while the other showed forth his power on the bank. Before they reached even three rounds after they closed in, the fiend had already weakened. With a splash he plunged back into the river and disappeared; the wind and the waves thus subsided.
Pilgrim went back to high ground and said, “Brothers, you’ve worked very hard!” “Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “this monster-spirit might not do so well on land, but he was quite formidable beneath the water. Second Elder Brother and I attacked him left and right and both of us could only manage to fight him to a draw. What shall we do to rescue Master?” “Let’s not dillydally,” said Pilgrim, “for I fear that he may harm Master.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “we’ll go and try to entice him to come out again. You be quiet and wait for him in midair. Once his head emerges, you give him one of those garlic-pounding blows squarely on the top of his skull. Even if you don’t kill him, you’ll knock him dazed. Old Hog can then finish him off with one blow of the rake.” “Exactly! Exactly!” said Pilgrim. “That’s what we call mutual cooperation. Only that can accomplish anything.” The two of them dove into the water again, and we shall leave them for the moment.
We tell you now about that fiend, who fled in defeat and returned to his residence. As the various fiends met him, the perch-mother went up to him and said, “Great King, where did you chase those two monks to?” The fiend said, “I didn’t realize that those monks have another helper, who, when they leaped ashore, tried to hit me with an iron rod. I dodged the blow and fought with him. God knows how heavy that rod of his is! My bronze mallet could not stand up to it at all. Before we finished three rounds, I had to flee in defeat.” “Great King,” said the perch-mother, “can you remember how that helper looked?” “He has a hairy face and a thunder-god beak,” said the fiend, “forked ears and broken nose. A monk with fiery eyes and diamond pupils.” When the perch-mother heard this, she shuddered and said, “O Great King! It was smart of you to flee, and you escaped with your life! Three more rounds and you won’t live at all! I know who that monk is.” “Who is he?” asked the fiend. “Some years back I was living in the Great Eastern Ocean,” said the perch-mother, “and I heard the old Dragon King talking about him and his reputation. This monk is the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, the Handsome Monkey King who is a golden immortal of the great monad and of the primal chaos in the Region Above. Five hundred years ago, he caused great havoc in the Celestial Palace, but now he has embraced Buddhism to accompany the Tang Monk to go to the Western Heaven for scriptures. He has changed his name to Pilgrim Sun Wukong. He has tremendous magic powers and knows many ways of transformation. Great King, how could you tangle with him? From now on, you must not fight with him at all.” Hardly had she finished speaking when one of the little imps dashed in to report, “Great King, those two monks are here again to provoke battle.” The monster-spirit said, “My worthy sister’s opinion is very sound! I’m not going to face them again. See what they can do!” He gave hurriedly this order, “Little ones, shut the gates. As the proverb says,
You may call outside the door;
Your cries I’ll wholly ignore!
They may even stay here for a couple of days, but when they get tired of it, they’ll leave. Then we can freely and leisurely enjoy the Tang Monk.” All those little fiends started to haul rocks and mud to seal up the entrance to the residence. When Eight Rules and Sha Monk shouted repeatedly without receiving any reply, Idiot in perturbation began to batter the gates with his rake. The gates, of course, were tightly shut, but a few blows of the rake broke them down. Inside the gates, however, was a solid wall of mud and rocks piled skyhigh. When Sha Monk saw it, he said, “Second Elder Brother, this fiend is terribly afraid, and that’s why he shuts himself up and refuses to come out. You and I should go back up to shore and discuss the matter with Big Brother.” Eight Rules agreed and they returned to the eastern shore.
Halfway between cloud and fog, Pilgrim stood waiting and holding his iron rod. When he saw the two of them emerge without the fiend, he lowered his cloud and met them on the bank. “Brothers,” he asked, “how is it that that thing has not come up?” Sha Monk said, “The fiend has shut his doors tightly and refused to come out to meet us. When Second Elder Brother broke the doors, we ran into a solid wall of mud and rocks inside. That’s why we could not even do battle with him. We decided to return to talk to you and see how we could make plans to rescue Master.” “If that’s how he behaves,” said Pilgrim, “it’s quite hard to think of anything to overcome him. You two had better patrol the banks to make certain that he doesn’t escape to another place. Let me make a trip.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “where are you going?” Pilgrim said, “I’m going to the Potalaka Mountain to make inquiry of the Bodhisattva. I want to find out the origin of this monster, his name, and how I may search out his ancestral home. After I have seized his kinsfolk and all his relations, I can return here to rescue Master.” With a laugh, Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, the way you do things will waste a lot of time and energy!” “I won’t waste any time or energy!” said Pilgrim. “I go, and I’ll be back at once!”
Dear Great Sage! Mounting the auspicious luminosity quickly, he left the river and headed straight for the South Sea. In less than half an hour, the Potalaka Mountain came into sight as he lowered his cloud and went up to the summit. The Twenty-four devas, the Great Mountain-Guardian, the disciple Mokṣa, Child Sudhana, and the Pearl-Bearing Dragon Girl all came forward to greet him. “Why did the Great Sage come here?” they asked, and Pilgrim said, “I must see the Bodhisattva.” “The Bodhisattva left the cave this morning,” said the deities, “and forbade anyone to follow her. She went by herself into the bamboo grove, though she left word that you would arrive today and that we should be here to receive you. She said she would not be able to see you immediately and she asked you to be seated before the cliff for awhile and wait for her to come out.”
Pilgrim obeyed and before he had even taken a seat, the Child Sudhana approached him bowing and said, “Great Sage Sun, I must thank you for your past kindness. The Bodhisattva was gracious enough to take me in and I have been her constant companion, waiting upon her beneath her lotus platform. She has, in fact, shown me great favors.” Recognizing that he was formerly the Red Boy, Pilgrim said with a laugh, “In the past you were gripped by demonic delusions. Now that you have attained the right fruit, you must realize that old Monkey is a good person!”
After having waited for a long time, Pilgrim grew very anxious, and he said, “Please make the announcement for me, all of you. If there’s further delay, I do fear for my master’s life.” “We dare not,” said the deities, “for the Bodhisattva gave specific instruction that you should wait for her to come out.” As he had always been impulsive, Pilgrim, of course, could stand it no longer and dashed all at once into the bamboo grove. Aha!
This Handsome Monkey King
Was by nature most impulsive.
The devas could not detain him
When he wished to go inside.
Deep into the grove he strode,
His open eyes stealing a glance.
There the salvific Honored-One
Sat, cross-legged, on bamboo leaves.
Carefree and without makeup
She looked so gentle and mild.
Her tresses, undone, flowed down;
She had no headgear with fringes.
Her blue robe she did not wear,
But only a small waistcoat.
A silk skirt wrapped round her waist.
Her two feet were both naked.
Her cloak’s silk sash was untied;
Her two arms were completely bare.
Her jadelike hand held up a knife
With which she peeled off bamboo skin.
When Pilgrim saw her, he could not refrain from calling aloud, “Bodhisattva, your disciple, Sun Wukong, pays you sincere homage.” “Wait outside,” commanded the Bodhisattva. Pilgrim went to his knees to kowtow, saying, “Bodhisattva, my master is facing a terrible ordeal. I came especially to ask you concerning the origin of the fiend at Heaven-Reaching River.” “Go out of the grove,” said the Bodhisattva, “and wait till I come out.”
Not daring to force her, Pilgrim had no choice but to walk out of the bamboo grove. He said to the various devas, “The Bodhisattva seems to be all wrapped up today in her domestic affairs. Why is she not sitting at her lotus platform? Why is she not made up? Why does she look so gloomy, making bamboo slips in the grove?” “We don’t know,” said the deities. “When she left the cave this morning, she went at once into the grove before she was even properly dressed. She told us also to wait for the Great Sage, and she must be doing something for your affairs.” Pilgrim could do nothing but wait.
After awhile, the Bodhisattva emerged from the grove holding a purplebamboo basket. “Wukong,” she said, “I’ll go with you to rescue the Tang Monk.” Kneeling down hurriedly, Pilgrim said, “Your disciple dares not press you. Let the Bodhisattva dress and ascend her seat first.” “No need to dress,” said the Bodhisattva. “I can go with you just like this.” Abandoning the devas, the Bodhisattva mounted the auspicious clouds immediately and rose into the air. Great Sage Sun had to follow her!
In a moment, they arrived at the Heaven-Reaching River. On seeing them, Eight Rules said to Sha Monk, “Elder Brother is so impulsive! I wonder what sort of wild clamor he made at South Sea that forced an undressed and unadorned Bodhisattva to come here!” Hardly had he finished speaking when the Bodhisattva landed on the bank. Bowing, the two disciples said, “Bodhisattva, we have intruded upon you. Please forgive us!” Untying her sash from her vest, the Bodhisattva fastened it to the basket and rose halfway into the air on the clouds. She held the sash and lowered the basket into the river, pulling it toward the upper reach. Then she recited a spell, saying, “The dead depart; the living remain! The dead depart, the living remain!” She repeated this seven times and then lifted up the basket. Inside was a shiny goldfish, still blinking its eyes and tossing about.
“Wukong,” cried the Bodhisattva, “go into the water quickly and rescue your master.”
“But we have not yet captured the fiend,” said Pilgrim. “How could we rescue Master?” “Isn’t the fiend in the basket?” asked the Bodhisattva. Bowing, Eight Rules and Sha Monk said, “How could the little fish get to be so powerful?”
“He is a goldfish reared in my lotus pond,” said the Bodhisattva. “Every day, he would float with the current to the surface to listen to my lectures, and his powers were acquired from his self-cultivation. That nine-petaled bronze mallet is a stalk supporting an unopened lotus bud, which the process of his magic cultivation has made into a weapon. I don’t know which day it was when high tide carried him to this place. When I watched my flowers leaning on the railing this morning, this fellow did not come out to greet me. I made calculations then by consulting the grooves on my fingers and learned that he had become a spirit here, seeking to harm your master. That was why I did not even bother to put on my clothes or jewels, for I was exercising my divine powers to fashion this basket to catch him.”
“Bodhisattva,” said Pilgrim, “please remain here for a moment. Let me go and call together the believers in the Chen village so that they may gaze upon your golden visage. This will be your great favor toward them, and, moreover, the account of how you have captured the fiend will help these mortal humans to become your devout worshippers.” “All right,” said the Bodhisattva. “Go and call them together quickly.” Eight Rules and Sha Monk sprinted back to the village, screaming, “Come, all of you, to see the living Bodhisattva Guanyin!” The inhabitants of the entire village, young and old, all rushed to the edge of the river. Without regard for the mud and water, they all knelt down and kowtowed. Someone skilled in painting among them at once made a portrait of the goddess, and that was how the picture of the Guanyin with a fish basket came about. Thereafter, the Bodhisattva returned to South Sea.
Opening a path in the water, Eight Rules and Sha Monk went straight to the Sea-Turtle House to search for their master. The watery fiends and fish spirits inside were all dead. They went to the rear of the palace and opened the stone box. Then they carried the Tang Monk to leave the waves and to be reunited with the others on the shore. Chen Qing and his brother in gratitude kowtowed to them, saying, “Venerable Father, you should have listened to our pleadings and you would not have had to undergo such suffering.” “No need to say that anymore,” said Pilgrim. “You people here will have no need to make any more sacrifices next year, for the Great King has been done away with. He will take no more lives. Mr. Chen, now we must count on you to find a boat to take us across the river.” “We have one! We have one!” said Chen Qing. He at once gave the order to build a boat; when the villagers heard this, everyone responded with enthusiasm. One of them said that he would purchase the mast and another volunteered to get the oars. Some of them wanted to bring the ropes, while still others promised to hire the sailors.
As they were making such clamor by the bank of the river, they suddenly heard this cry coming from the middle of the water: “Great Sage Sun, there is no need for a boat that will only be a waste of money and materials. I’ll take you four across the river.” When the people heard this, they were so frightened that the timid ones fled back to the village, while the more courageous among them, trembling all over, stole glances at where the voice was coming from. Instantly, out crawled a strange creature from the depths. “How did he look?” you ask. He is
A square-headed divine not of this world;
His name: a water god most subtle and shrewd.
His tail can life prolong a thousand years;
He hides himself in a hundred rivers deep.
Vaulting on waves and currents he comes to shore;
Facing the sun and wind he lies on the beach.
Truly enlightened he nourishes his breath,
An old turtle, scabby headed and white shelled.
“Great Sage,” cried the old sea-turtle again, “don’t build the boat. I’ll take all of you, master and disciples, across the river.” Raising high his iron rod, Pilgrim said, “Cursed creature! If you dare approach me, I’ll kill you with one blow of my rod!” “I am grateful to the kindness of the Great Sage,” said the old turtle, “and that’s why I want to help all of you with the best intention. Why do you want to hit me instead?” “What kindness have I shown you?” asked Pilgrim.
The old turtle said, “Great Sage, you don’t realize that the Sea-Turtle House down below happens to be my residence, a place my ancestors handed down to me from generation to generation. Since I had awakened to my source and origin, I succeeded in nourishing my numinous breath to enable me to practice self-cultivation here. The house had been rebuilt by me and named the SeaTurtle House. Nine years ago, that fiend arrived during a huge tidal wave, and at once he let loose his violence and fought with me. He slew many of my children and robbed me of many of my kinsfolk. I was no match for him, and my house was taken away by force. Now I am truly indebted to the Great Sage, who in his attempt to rescue his master, has succeeded in bringing the Bodhisattva Guanyin here to disperse all the fiendish miasma. With the monster seized, the house belongs to me once again. Now I can be reunited with my kin, young and old; I can occupy my old home again without having to rest on earth or recline on mud. This favor of yours is indeed great as a mountain and deep as the sea. But it is not just I myself who am indebted to you. The entire village here has been exempted from ever having to make the annual sacrifice, and countless children’s lives are spared. This is indeed a case of the double gain with a single move. Dare I not show my gratitude and try to repay you?”
Secretly pleased by what he heard, Pilgrim put away his iron rod and said, “Are you really sincere about this?” The old turtle said, “I’m a recipient of the Great Sage’s profound kindness. How dare I play false?” “Swear to Heaven that you are telling the truth,” said Pilgrim. Opening wide his huge red mouth toward the sky, the old turtle said, “If I do not truly intend to send the Tang Monk across the Heaven-Reaching River, may my body turn into blood!” “You come here then,” said Pilgrim, chuckling. Swimming to the edge of the river, the old turtle then crawled up the bank. When the people gathered about him to take a look, they found a huge white globe of a shell, about forty feet in its circumference. “Master,” said Pilgrim, “we can get on him and cross over.” Tripitaka said, “Disciple, even that thick ice before gave us difficulty. I wonder if this turtle’s carapace is safe at all.” “Please do not worry, Master,” said the old turtle, “I’m much safer than that thick ice! If I make even one slip, I’ll not achieve my merit.” “O Master!” said Pilgrim. “It is not likely for a creature who has acquired human speech to lie. Brothers, bring us the horse! Quick!”
As they went to the edge of the river, the entire Chen village, young and old, all came to bow to them. After Pilgrim led the horse up onto the back of the old turtle, he asked the Tang Monk to stand to the left of the horse’s neck, Sha Monk to the right, and Eight Rules at the back. Pilgrim himself stood in front of the horse. Fearing that the turtle might cause trouble nevertheless, he untied the sash of his tiger-skin kilt and fastened it to the nose of the turtle, pulling it up like a rein. He placed one foot on the turtle’s back and the other foot on its head; one hand held the iron rod while the other held the rein. “Old Turtle,” said he, “go slowly. One wrong move and I’ll give your head a blow!” “I dare not! I dare not!” said the old turtle. Stretching forth his four legs, the turtle trod on the surface of the water as smoothly as if he were walking on level ground. The people on shore all burned incense and kowtowed, everyone chanting, “Namo Amitābha!” It was truly as if real arhats were descending to earth and living Bodhisattvas revealing themselves. The people worshipped until they could no longer see the pilgrims before they dispersed, and we shall speak no more of them.
We tell you instead about the master riding on the white turtle; in less than a day, they crossed the Heaven-Reaching River of eight hundred miles. With dry hands and feet, they went ashore, As Tripitaka landed, he pressed his palms together to give thanks, saying, “I have troubled you, old Turtle, but there is nothing I can give you. Let me acquire the scriptures first, and when I come back, I’ll thank you then with a gift.” The old turtle said, “There’s no need for any gift from you, old Master. But I have heard that the Buddhist Patriarch in the Western Heaven has not only transcended the process of birth and death, but he has also the knowledge of past and future. I have practiced self-cultivation here for a full thirteen hundred years. Though I have lengthened my age and lightened my body, and I have also acquired the knowledge of human speech, I find it difficult to shed my original shell. When you get to the Western Heaven, I beg the old Master to inquire of the Buddhist Patriarch and see when I may cast off my original shell to acquire a human body.” Tripitaka said, “I promise to ask.” Then the old turtle turned around and plunged back into the water. Pilgrim helped Tang Monk to mount the horse, Eight Rules poled the luggage, and Sha Monk took up the rear. Master and disciples found the main road and started out again toward the West. Thus it was that
The holy monk sought Buddha by decree
Through a vast distance and many ordeals.
His mind was steadfast, undaunted by death;
He crossed Heaven River on a turtle’s back.
We don’t know exactly how far they still have to go, or whether good or evil befalls them; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.