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40 The True Scriptures

For fourteen long years the Tang Monk and his three disciples had crossed mountains and forded streams, enduring a thousand hardships, until at last they set foot upon the Buddha's realm in the west. All about them grew rare blossoms and jade-green herbs, ancient cypresses and towering pines, a place of profound stillness. Not far off rose a hundred-foot tower, its carved beams brushing the very clouds. The Tang Monk drew rein and said, "What a fair place this is!" Wukong answered, "Master, before every false Buddha in the land of demons you were quick to kneel; yet now, in the true holy realm, you forget to climb down from the saddle." Hearing his disciple's words, the Tang Monk hastily slid down from the horse, fell upon his knees and worshipped, murmuring all the while, "My sin, my sin! Homage to Amitabha Buddha!" When he rose and came to the gate, a Daoist in brocaded robes, a fly-whisk in his hand, met him and asked, "Are you the scripture seekers who come from the eastern lands?" Wukong knew him for the Golden-Crested Immortal of the Jade Truth Temple at the foot of the Spirit Mountain, and whispered as much in his master's ear; and the Tang Monk hurried forward to salute him. The immortal sighed, "Guanyin said the seekers would come within two or three years and bade me wait; instead I have waited more than ten. Come in, holy monk, bathe and eat, that you may climb to the Buddha's ground at dawn." The Tang Monk folded his hands and said, "I am most grateful for your great kindness." Leading the horse and shouldering the packs, master and disciples followed the immortal into the Jade Truth Temple; and when the meal was done and the bathing over, they lay down to sleep. At dawn the Tang Monk put on his brocaded cassock, took up his nine-ringed staff, and came to take his leave. The immortal offered to guide them further, but Wukong said he knew the way. The immortal laughed, "Great Sage, though you have come here often, your feet have never touched the ground; you travel the cloud road. But I would lead the holy monk through the gate by the true path." The immortal led them through the central hall and out by the back gate, then bowed and turned back. At the foot of the Spirit Mountain the travellers looked up at the Vulture Peak, the realm of ten thousand Buddhas, with clouds of blessed light and thin bright frost, a scene of perfect bliss indeed. Feasting their eyes upon the lovely prospects, the four walked slowly upward toward the summit of the Spirit Mountain. When they had gone some five or six li and the country lay empty of men, a great river, eight or nine li across, rose up before them and barred the way. The Tang Monk did not know what to do, and said doubtfully, "Wukong, the waves roll and the spray flies across, and there is neither boat nor oar; how are we ever to cross?" Wukong pointed and said, "Master, is that not a great bridge over yonder?" He went nearer and saw that it was only a single log, slender and slippery. Beside it stood a stone tablet bearing three great characters, "The Cloud-Soaring Ford," and beneath them four lines in smaller script: "A flying rainbow lies upon the stream, a white ribbon flows toward the sky. So hard is the Cloud-Soaring Ford that even immortals fear to step." His heart quailed, and he said, "Disciples, no one can walk this bridge; let us seek another path." Wukong laughed, "This is the true road. To win the fruit, Master, you must cross by it." And even as he spoke he sprang upon the log and went swaying across to the other side.

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