Now the ghost messengers, together with Liu Quan and his wife, left the Department of Darkness. The somber winds wound about them, and they came straight to the great city of Chang'an. There the ghost messengers pushed the soul of Liu Quan into the Gold Pavilion Hostelry, and carried the soul of Cuilian into the inner courts of the palace. The Princess Yuying was just then walking slowly over the green moss beneath the shade of the flowers, when the ghost messengers rushed upon her, flung her to the ground, and seized her living soul; then they thrust the soul of Cuilian into Yuying's body.
Of the ghost messengers' return to the Department of Darkness, no more need be said.
Now the waiting maids, great and small, of that palace court saw that Yuying had fallen and died, and ran swiftly to the Golden Chime Hall to report to the empress of the Three Palaces: "The Princess is fallen dead!"
The empress was greatly alarmed and at once reported it to Taizong.
Hearing this, Taizong nodded and sighed: "So it has come true after all. I once asked the Ten Kings of the Underworld whether the old and young of my palace were well, and they said: 'All are well—only we fear the princess's life is due to be cut short.' Their word has indeed come to pass."
All the palace folk came weeping in sorrow, and when they went to look beneath the flower shade, they saw that the princess still breathed faintly.
The King of Tang said: "Do not weep! Do not weep! Do not startle her."
Then he stepped forward, raised her head with his own imperial hands, and called: "Sister, awake! Awake!" Suddenly the princess turned over and cried: "Husband, walk slowly—wait for me!" Taizong said: "Sister, it is we who are here." The princess raised her head, opened her eyes, and looked: "Who are you, that you dare lay hands on me?" Taizong said: "I am your imperial brother, and this is your imperial sister-in-law." The princess said: "Since when have I any imperial brother or sister-in-law! My natal family is named Li; my milk-name is Li Cuilian, and my husband is named Liu Quan. The two of us are both of Junzhou. Three months ago, because I pulled a golden hairpin from my hair at the front gate to give as alms to a monk, my husband blamed me for boldly going out of the inner gates, not keeping a wife's ways, and scolded me for it. My anger choked my breast, and I hanged myself from the beam with a white-silk sash, leaving behind two children who weep day and night. Now, because my husband was sent by imperial dispatch of the King of Tang to the Underworld to present melons and fruit, the kings of darkness took pity and let us husband and wife return. He walked on ahead; because I came late and could not catch up with him, I stumbled and fell. How rude you all are! Not knowing who I am, how dare you lay hold of me!" Hearing this, Taizong said to the palace folk: "I suppose my sister has fallen senseless and is talking wildly." He sent orders to the Imperial Medical Academy to administer medicine, and had Yuying carried into the palace.
The King of Tang was in the hall when an officer of the imperial retinue memorialized: "Ten Thousand Years! Liu Quan, who carried the melons and fruit, has returned to life and awaits your command outside the court gate."
The King of Tang was greatly amazed, and at once gave orders to summon Liu Quan, who came in and prostrated himself before the crimson steps.
Taizong asked: "How went the business of the melons and fruit?"
Liu Quan said: "Your servant bore the melons straight to the Ghost Gate Pass, was led up to the Hall of Senluo, and saw the Ten Kings of the Underworld. I presented the melons and fruit and set forth at length my sovereign's earnest gratitude. The kings were greatly pleased and sent a full message of thanks to my sovereign, saying: 'Truly an emperor of faith and virtue, this Taizong of the Great Tang!'" The King of Tang said: "And what did you see in the Underworld?" Liu Quan said: "Your servant traveled no farther, and saw nothing much—only heard the kings ask my native place and name. I told them all: how I had abandoned home and children, and because my wife had hanged herself had willingly come to present the melons. They at once dispatched ghost messengers to bring my wife before me, and we met there below the Hall of Senluo. At the same time they consulted the Register of Life and Death, and said that we husband and wife both had the lifespan of those destined for immortal rank, and so dispatched ghost messengers to send us back. Your servant walked in front, my wife behind, and happily we returned to life. But I know not where my wife's soul has gone." The King of Tang asked in wonder: "Did the kings say anything of your wife?" Liu Quan said: "The kings said nothing; I only heard a ghost messenger say: 'Li Cuilian has been in the world of the dead a long while; her body no longer remains.' Then King Yama said: 'Li Yuying, the imperial sister of the Tang, is due to die before her time; let Cuilian borrow Yuying's body and return to life in it.' Your servant knows not what place this 'imperial sister of the Tang' means, or where her home may be—I have not yet gone to look for it."
Hearing this memorial, the King of Tang was filled with delight, and said to his assembled ministers: "When I parted from the kings of darkness, I asked about the palace, and they said the old and young were all well—only they feared the princess's life would be cut short. Just now my sister Yuying fell dead beneath the flower shade; I hastened to raise and look at her, and in a moment she revived, crying, 'Husband, walk slowly—wait for me!' I took it for raving after her fall. But when I questioned her closely, all she said matched Liu Quan's account word for word."
Wei Zheng memorialized: "The princess's span happened to run out; as soon as she revived she spoke these words. This is a case of a soul returning to life in a borrowed body. Such things do happen. We may ask the princess to come out and see what she has to say." The King of Tang said: "I have already sent the physicians to administer medicine; I know not how she fares." Then he ordered consorts and ladies to go into the palace and invite her.
That princess was shouting and railing inside: "What medicine would I take! This is not my home! My home has cool, clean tiled roofs, not these jaundiced yellow-glazed halls, not these gaudy, flaunting doors! Let me out! Let me out!"
[Translator's note: the peasant woman's eye sees the palace's yellow-glazed tiles as the complexion of a man with jaundice.]
Even as she railed, four or five women officials and two or three eunuchs came supporting her, all the way up to the hall.
The King of Tang said: "Do you recognize your husband?"
Yuying said: "What talk is that? We two have been wedded husband and wife since youth; I have borne him sons and daughters—how could I not know him?" The King of Tang ordered the inner officials to lead her down.
The princess came down from the treasure hall, walked straight to the white-jade steps, and seeing Liu Quan, seized him with both hands: "Husband! Where are you off to, that you would not wait for me! I stumbled once, and then these unreasonable people crowded round me shouting—what is the meaning of this!"
Liu Quan heard her speak with the very words of his wife, yet saw a face that was not his wife's, and dared not acknowledge her.
The King of Tang said: "Truly, 'When mountains crumble and the earth splits, there are those who see it; but seizing the living to die in another's stead—rarely is such a thing met!'"
What a sovereign of the Way he was! He at once bestowed upon Liu Quan the princess's dowry, clothing, and jewelry, all of it, as though it were her wedding portion, and further granted him an imperial rescript exempting his household forever from corvée labor, ordering him to take his wife home. The husband and wife gave thanks before the steps, joyful beyond measure, and returned to their native place. There is a poem in proof:
The lives of men, the deaths of men, are fates foretold; Short or long, each has his destined span of years. Liu Quan bore melons and returned to the world of light; Li Cuilian borrowed a corpse and lived again.
The two of them took leave of the sovereign and went straight to the city of Junzhou, where they found their old home, property, and children all well, and there the couple went about proclaiming the fruits of goodness—but of this no more.
Now Duke Yuchi Gong had carried a storehouse of gold and silver to Kaifeng Prefecture in Henan to seek out Xiang Liang. It turned out that Xiang Liang made his living selling water, and together with his wife, née Zhang, peddled black basins and earthenware before their gate. Whatever little money they earned sufficed them for daily needs; of whatever remained, more or less, they gave alms to monks, made charitable gifts, and bought paper gold and silver ingots, which, recorded in the storehouses of the Underworld, they burned. And so this blessed fruit had come to them: in the world of light they were a poor but most charitable couple; in the world to come, elders amid heaped jade and piled gold.
When Duke Yuchi delivered the gold and silver to their door, the old couple were frightened out of their wits; and since officials of the prefecture had come too, with carriages and horses thronging outside their thatched cottage, the old pair stood dumb as posts, kneeling on the ground and doing nothing but kowtow and bow in worship.
Duke Yuchi said: "Rise, good elders. Though I am an officer bearing the imperial mandate, I have come to return my sovereign's gold and silver to you."
They answered trembling: "This humble one has never lent out any gold or silver; how could we dare accept wealth of such unexplained source?" Duke Yuchi said: "I have learned indeed that you are a poor man; but you have given alms to monks and made offerings with all you could spare, buying paper gold and silver to be burned and recorded in the Department of Darkness, and there your stored-up money lies. Our Emperor Taizong died and returned to life after three days, and in the Underworld borrowed from you one storehouse of gold and silver. Now it is brought back to you to the last coin. Pray take it all in, that I may return and report the command fulfilled." But the old couple only bowed toward heaven, not daring to accept.
They said: "If we humble ones accepted this gold and silver, it would only hasten our deaths. Though we burned paper to be stored in the treasury, that is a matter of the unseen world; and if His Majesty borrowed gold and silver in the world to come, what proof is there? We absolutely dare not accept it."
Duke Yuchi said: "His Majesty says the loan of your goods was witnessed by Judge Cui as surety. Do take it." Xiang Liang said: "Even if we died for it, we would not dare accept." Seeing them refuse so stubbornly, the duke had no choice but to write a memorial and dispatch a courier to report to the throne. When Taizong read the memorial and learned that Xiang Liang would not take the gold and silver, he said:
"Truly a kind and virtuous elder!"
He at once sent down a rescript instructing Hu Jingde to use the gold and silver on his behalf to build and repair temples and monasteries, to erect a shrine to the living couple, and to invite monks to perform good works—this to count as repayment. When the rescript arrived, Jingde faced the palace and gave thanks for the grace, and the command was proclaimed for all to know. He then used the gold and silver to buy a plot of unencumbered land in the city, belonging to soldiers and civilians alike, a full fifty mu square, and on it began work, raising a monastery named "The Xiangguo Monastery, Built by Imperial Command."
At its left stood the living shrine of Elder Xiang and his wife, with stone tablets engraved bearing the words "Built under the supervision of Duke Yuchi." This is the Great Xiangguo Monastery of today.
When the work was done, he returned and memorialized, and Taizong was greatly pleased. Then he assembled his ministers once more and posted a proclamation inviting monks, to hold a Mass of Land and Water, delivering the lonely souls of the nether world. The proclamation went through the realm, ordering the officials of every place to recommend monks of the Way of high virtue, to come to Chang'an for the assembly. Scarcely a month had passed before monks from all over the realm had arrived. The King of Tang gave orders to Fu Yi, Assistant Grand Astrologer, to choose monks of high virtue to conduct the Buddhist services. When Fu Yi received the command, he at once submitted a memorial denouncing Buddhism, declaring that there is no Buddha. His memorial read:
"The law of the Western Regions knows no ruler or minister, father or son; by its three paths and six ways of rebirth it deludes the ignorant and stupid. It pursues the sins of the past and peers after blessings to come, while its mouth chants Sanskrit words to scheme for escape. But life and death, long life and early death, are rooted in nature itself; punishment and favor, awe and blessing, rest with the sovereign of men. Today I hear that vulgar impostors falsely ascribe all these things to the Buddha. Since the Five Emperors and Three Kings there was no Buddha-dharma, yet rulers were enlightened and ministers loyal, and the dynasties endured long. Only in the reign of Emperor Ming of Han was the foreign god first set up—yet it was only monks of the Western Regions transmitting their own teaching. Truly it is the barbarian encroaching upon China, and unworthy of credence."
When Taizong had read it, he cast the memorial down for his ministers to debate.
Then the chancellor Xiao Yu came out from the ranks, bowed low, and memorialized: "The Buddha-dharma has flourished through many reigns; it spreads goodness and checks evil, secretly aiding the state; by reason it must not be cast away. The Buddha is a sage. To slander the sage is lawlessness; I beg that severe punishment be decreed for it."
Fu Yi debated with Xiao Yu, saying that ritual propriety is rooted in serving one's parents and one's sovereign, yet the Buddha turned his back on his parents to leave the household, setting a common man against the Son of Heaven, and a successor against those most akin to him. Xiao Yu, said he, was not born from a hollow mulberry trunk, yet he follows a teaching without a father—this is precisely what is meant by "the unfilial acknowledge no kin."
Xiao Yu could only press his palms together and say: "The hells were established for the sake of just such men."
Taizong then summoned Zhang Daoyuan, Minister of the Imperial Stud, and Zhang Shiheng, Director of the Secretariat, and asked them how it stood with Buddhist services and the winning of blessing.
The two ministers replied: "The Buddha's essence lies in purity, benevolence, and forgiveness; the fruit of Buddhahood is true emptiness. Emperor Wu of Zhou ranked the Three Teachings in order: the Chan Master Dahui left praises of the far and hidden world; through successive generations the offerings made to him were all manifest; the Fifth Patriarch entered the womb; Bodhidharma displayed his image. From antiquity, all have said that the Three Teachings are most venerable and must not be destroyed or abolished. We prostrate ourselves and beg Your Majesty's sagely discernment and clear judgment."
Taizong was greatly pleased. "What you say accords with reason. Whoever argues further shall be held guilty." He then ordered Wei Zheng together with Xiao Yu and Zhang Daoyuan to invite the monks and choose one man of great virtue and conduct to be master of the altar, and to establish the place of the Way. All knocked their heads in thanks for the grace and withdrew. From that time a law was promulgated: whoever reviled monks or slandered the Buddha should have his arm severed.
The next day the three court ministers gathered the monks at the Altar of Mountains and Rivers and examined and chose them one by one from the start. From among them they selected one monk of virtue and discipline. Who do you suppose he was?
His numinous penetration was his nature; in former life he bore the name Golden Cicada. Only because he listened absent-mindedly to the Buddha's discourse Was he cast down to the dust of the world to suffer grinding trials, Born into the common life to meet the snare of the world. At birth misfortune met him; before his birth, wicked kin drew near. His father was Chen, the Number One Scholar of Haizhou; His grandfather the superintendent-general of the reigning court. His horoscope was ruled by the star of falling into rivers, As he drifted down the current, borne on wave after wave. A great destiny bound him to Gold Mountain in the sea isles, Where the abbot Qian'an took and reared him. At eighteen he came to know his mother, And journeyed to the capital to seek his grandfather.
The general marched with his great host to punish the rebels, Destroying the wicked band at Hongzhou. Scholar Guangrui escaped the net of Heaven, And father and son met again—well worth the telling! Received anew in audience, he enjoyed his sovereign's grace, His worthy name resounding on the Gallery of Misty Vapor. The favored officer would not serve; he chose the monk's life, And at Hongfu Monastery sought out the Way. His infant name was River Float, a child of the ancient Buddha; His name in religion was Chen Xuanzang.
That day they set Xuanzang before the assembly as the choice. This man had been a monk from childhood; from his mother's womb he had kept the fast and observed the commandments. His maternal grandfather was Yin Kaishan, superintendent-general at the reigning court. His father, Chen Guangrui, had taken first place in the examination and been appointed Grand Academician of the Wenyuan Hall. Xuanzang himself set no store by glory and splendor, delighting only in cultivation and quietude. They found his origins were good and his virtue high: of the thousand classics and ten thousand canons there was none he had not mastered, of Buddhist chants and immortal strains there was none he could not perform.
The three ministers led him before the throne, where he bowed with dancing sleeves and scattered dust.
When the bows were done they memorialized: "Your servants Yu and the others, by your sage command, have chosen one monk of high virtue, Chen Xuanzang."
Hearing the name, Taizong pondered long in silence. "Is this the Xuanzang, son of the Academician Chen Guangrui?" River Float kowtowed and said: "Your servant is he." Taizong said with pleasure: "The choice is indeed not mistaken. Truly a monk of virtue and discipline, of Chan heart. I appoint you Left Overseer of Monks, Right Overseer of Monks, and Great Proclaimer of the Faith for All the Realm." Xuanzang knocked his head in thanks for the grace and accepted the office of Great Proclaimer. There was also bestowed on him a cassock of brocade woven with gold in five colors, and a Pilu cap.
He was instructed to seek instruction once more from enlightened monks with a devoted heart, to rank the masters and leaders of the assembly in order, to draw up the rescript, and to go to the Huasheng Monastery, there to choose an auspicious day and hour to open and expound the sutras and the Law.
Xuanzang bowed again, received the command, and went out; and so he came to the Huasheng Monastery, where he gathered the monks, built meditation couches, adorned the place of merit, and arranged the sacred music. He chose one thousand two hundred enlightened monks, great and small, and assigned them to upper, middle, and lower halls. Before every Buddha image all appointments were complete, everything in order. The date selected was the third day of the ninth month of that year, a lucky hour on the yellow path, when they would open the forty-nine-day Mass of Land and Water, seven sevens of days.
A memorial was submitted to the throne, and Taizong together with his civil and military ministers, imperial kin, and royal in-laws all came on the day to attend the assembly, burning incense and listening to the exposition. There is a poem in proof:
The dragon year, Zhenguan's thirteenth, The sovereign summons the multitude to discourse upon the scriptures. The place of the Way unfolds the boundless Law, Cloud and mist bear the altar of the great vow. Imperial favor, bestowed, raises the lofty temple; The Golden Cicada sheds his shell, transformed toward the Western meaning. Good fruit is spread universally, the sunken souls delivered; The teaching is proclaimed, before and after, thrice.
In the thirteenth year of Zhenguan, the year jisi, ninth month, day jiaxu, the third day, at the auspicious hour guimao, the Great Proclaimer of the Faith Chen Xuanzang gathered one thousand two hundred monks of high virtue, all in the Huasheng Monastery of Chang'an, to expound the wondrous sutras of every chapter. The emperor, his morning audience concluded, led his civil and military ministers in phoenix carriage and dragon chariot, left the golden chime hall, and came straight to the monastery to offer incense. What was that imperial procession like? Truly:
A sky full of auspicious air, ten thousand rays of felicitous light. The wind of benevolence gently drifting; the transforming sun shining wondrously bright. A thousand officials, jade pendants sounding, ranged before and behind; Five guards with banners and flags arrayed on either side. Bearing golden melons, holding axes and halberds, pair upon pair; Crimson candles and imperial censers, misty and majestic. Dragons flying and phoenixes dancing; ospreys recommended, hawks in glory. The sage Son of Heaven, upright; the loyal and righteous ministers, worthy. Boundless blessing for a thousand years, surpassing Shun and Yu; Peace for ten thousand generations, outdoing Yao and Tang.
And see the curved-handled canopy, the dragon-coiled robe, their radiance shooting one against the other; the jade-linked rings, the phoenix fans of many colors, auspicious mists floating and streaming. Pearl crowns and jade girdles, purple ribbons and golden seals. A thousand companies of guards escorting the imperial carriage, two files of generals supporting the imperial conveyance. This emperor, bathed in reverence and devotion, honored the Buddha; taking refuge in the fruit of goodness, he joyfully offered his incense.
The great cortege of the King of Tang soon arrived before the monastery. He ordered the music and instruments stopped, descended from his carriage, and led his ministers to bow to the Buddha and offer incense. When the three circuits were done, he raised his head to look: truly a fine place of the Way. Just look:
Banners dancing and floating, precious canopies flying their radiance. Banners dancing and floating—shaft upon shaft of rainbow cloud shaking the sky; Canopies flying their radiance—flap upon flap of red lightning flashing in the sun. The golden visage of the World-Honored One, most solemn; The jade faces of the arhats, fierce in their majesty. Vases holding immortal flowers; censers burning sandalwood and aloe. Vases holding immortal flowers—brocade trees gleaming over the precious shrine; Censers burning sandalwood and aloe—clouds of incense piercing the clear heavens. Fresh fruits of the season piled on vermilion plates; Sugar delicacies of strange fashion heaped on lacquered tables.
Monks of high virtue ranged in order chant the true scriptures, Vowing to draw the lonely souls up out of their suffering.
Taizong and his ministers all offered incense, bowed to the golden body of the Buddha, and paid reverence to the arhats. Then they saw the Great Proclaimer, the master Chen Xuanzang, lead the monks in bowing to the King of Tang. When the courtesies were finished, all took their meditation seats in their ranks. The master presented to Taizong the proclamation for the deliverance of lonely souls, which read:
"Supreme virtue is boundless and dim; the Chan school is quietude and extinction. Pure and clean and numinous, it flows everywhere through the Three Worlds; through a thousand changes and ten thousand transformations it governs yin and yang. Its substance and function are true and constant, without end or limit. Behold these lonely souls—most fitting is it to pity them deeply. Now, in obedience to the sage command of Taizong, monks have been assembled to sit in Chan and expound the Law. We fling wide the gates of skillful means, ply the ferry of mercy far and wide, deliver the multitudes in the sea of suffering, and free them from the stubborn maladies of the Six Paths. We lead them back to the true road, that all may gaze upon primordial chaos. Motion and rest are uncontrived; we return to pure simplicity. Relying on this good cause, may they be invited to the crimson towers of the pure capital; borne upon this auspicious assembly, may they escape the cage of hell, soon mount to the joy of the Pure Land and wander free, coming and going in the Western Heaven at their ease."
The poem says:
One censer of evergreen longevity incense; Several scrolls of the registers of rebirth. The boundless wondrous Law is proclaimed; The shoreless grace of Heaven is bathed in. Grievances and sins are all washed away; The lonely souls all leave their prisons. May they guard our realm and homes In peace and blessing for ten thousand years.
Taizong read it, and his heart was full of joy. He said to the assembled monks: "Let your hearts be set in crimson sincerity; by no means slacken in the service of the Buddha. When the work is completed, blessing will come to each of you, and I shall richly reward you—your labor shall not be in vain." The one thousand two hundred monks all knocked their heads in thanks. That day, when the three fasts were ended, the King of Tang returned to his palace. On the seventh day, the central day of the assembly, he would come again to offer incense. By then the sky was darkening, and all the officials withdrew. How fine was that evening? Just look:
Ten thousand li of empty sky, the fading light grown pale; A few dots of homing crows drift slowly down to roost. Lamps are lit through all the city; hearth-smoke and voices still— Just the hour when the Chan monks enter into meditation.
One night's evening scene passes without further word. The next morning the master mounted his seat once more and gathered the monks to chant the scriptures—but no more of this.
Now the Bodhisattva Guanyin of Potaraka Mountain in the Southern Sea, having received the Tathagata's command, had long been searching the city of Chang'an for the good man who would seek the scriptures, but day after day she had met no one of true virtue and discipline.
Suddenly she heard that Taizong was proclaiming the fruits of goodness, choosing monks of high virtue, and holding the great assembly; and she saw that the master of the altar was the monk River Float—a Buddha-son descended from the Land of Bliss, and moreover the elder whom she herself had guided and sent into his mother's womb. The Bodhisattva was overjoyed. She took the treasures bestowed by the Buddha, bore them out onto the long streets, and set up a stall with her disciple Mucha to sell them. And what treasures were they? A cassock of brocade, a rare and precious thing, and a nine-ringed tin staff.
There were also the three fillets of gold, tightening, and forbidding, which she stored away in secret for use hereafter; only the cassock and the staff did she put up for sale. In the city of Chang'an there were foolish monks who had failed of selection, and who yet had a few coppers to rattle.
Seeing this Bodhisattva transformed into the likeness of a scabby, scurfy beggar, wearing a tattered patched robe, barefoot and bareheaded, holding the cassock, which glowed resplendent, they came forward and asked: "Hey, scabby monk, how much do you want for that cassock?"
The Bodhisattva said: "The cassock is worth five thousand taels; the staff is worth two thousand." The foolish monks laughed: "These two scabby monks are madmen! Idiots! These two crude objects, and they ask seven thousand taels of silver! Even if putting them on made you live forever without growing old, even if it made you a Buddha or a patriarch, it wouldn't be worth half so much! Take them away! You'll never sell them!" The Bodhisattva did not quarrel, but walked on with Mucha.
After walking a good while, they came before the Donghua Gate, just as the chancellor Xiao Yu was returning from court, his outriders shouting the streets clear. The Bodhisattva made no move to avoid them, but stood in the middle of the street holding the cassock, directly facing the chancellor's approach. The chancellor reined in his horse to look, and seeing the cassock glow resplendent, ordered his attendants to ask the seller's price.
The Bodhisattva said: "The cassock costs five thousand taels; the staff two thousand."
Xiao Yu said: "What merits has it, to be worth such a price?" The Bodhisattva said: "The cassock has merits and demerits; there are those who must pay for it, and those who need not." Xiao Yu said: "What do you mean by merit and demerit?" The Bodhisattva said: "Whoever wears my cassock will not sink into the waves, will not fall into hell, will not suffer the peril of venomous harm, will not meet disaster from tigers and wolves—that is its merit. But the lecherous, evil-doing, foolish monk, the priest who keeps neither fast nor commandments, the worldling who reviles the scriptures and slanders the Buddha—such men may never so much as look upon my cassock: that is its demerit." He asked further: "And what do you mean by paying and not paying?" The Bodhisattva said: "If one who does not follow the Buddha's Law, does not revere the Three Treasures, insists on buying the cassock and staff, then I will certainly sell them to him for seven thousand taels—that is paying. But if one reveres the Three Treasures, rejoices at the sight of goodness, takes refuge in my Buddha, and is worthy to bear them, then I will gladly give him cassock and staff, to tie a bond of goodness between us—that is not paying." Hearing this, Xiao Yu's face brightened the more, and he knew her for a good person.
At once he dismounted and saluted the Bodhisattva with full courtesy.
Saying: "Elder of the Great Law, forgive the offense of me, Xiao Yu. Our Emperor of the Great Tang is exceedingly devoted to goodness, and the whole court, civil and military, follows his example. He is now holding the Mass of Land and Water, and this cassock is just the thing for the Great Proclaimer of the Faith, the master Chen Xuanzang, to wear. Come with me to court and see the sovereign."
The Bodhisattva gladly complied, turned her steps, and went straight in through the Donghua Gate. The Yellow Gate officials reported, and by imperial command she was brought to the treasure hall.
The two stood at the foot of the steps, and the King of Tang asked: "What business brings Xiao Yu to memorialize?" Xiao Yu prostrated himself before the steps: "As your servant came out the Donghua Gate, I chanced upon two monks, sellers of a cassock and a tin staff. It occurred to me that Master Xuanzang might wear them, and so I have brought the monks to appear before you." Taizong was greatly pleased and asked the price of the cassock.
The Bodhisattva and Mucha stood attending at the foot of the steps and made no bow; asked the price of the cassock, they answered: "The cassock five thousand taels; the staff two thousand."
Taizong said: "What merits has this cassock, to be worth so much?" The Bodhisattva said:
"This cassock—if a dragon wear but one thread of it, he escapes the calamity of being swallowed by the great peng bird; if a crane hang but a strand of it upon him, he attains the marvel of transcending the common and entering sainthood. Wherever its wearer sits, ten thousand spirits come to pay homage; in every movement, seven Buddhas attend his body.
"This cassock was woven of silk drawn from the ice silkworm, its threads twined by cunning craftsmen. Immortal maidens spun it; divine women worked the loom. Square upon square of gathered cloth, embroidered and sewn with flowers; piece joined to piece, piled with brocade. Dainty fragments of flowers vie in ornament; bright colors gleam and breathe their precious radiance. Put it on, and red mist winds about the whole body; take it off, and a length of rainbow cloud flies away. Before the gates of the Three Heavens it sheds primal light; before the mountains of the Five Peaks it breeds precious vapor. Fold within fold, Western lotus flowers inlaid; bright upon bright, pearls hanging like the constellations.
"At its four corners are night-shining pearls; at its gathered crown a single emerald. Though it has not full power to light one's original body, still it glitters with rays from Eight Treasures set in it.
"This cassock is folded away in idle hours and worn only when a sage is met. Folded away in idle hours—through a thousand wrappings it shows the rainbow's sheen; worn only when a sage is met—it startles the gods and ghosts of all the heavens. Upon it are the As-You-Will pearl, the mani pearl, the dust-dispelling pearl, the wind-fixing pearl; there too are red agate, purple coral, night-shining pearls, and śarīra relics. It steals the moon's white and vies with the sun's red. Every strand brims with immortal air filling the sky; every bud of auspicious light bears up the sage. Strands of immortal air filling the sky light up the passes of Heaven; buds of auspicious light bearing the sage shade the whole world. It shines on mountains and rivers, startling tigers and leopards; it shades sea islands, stirring fish and dragons. Along its borders run two gold-locked bands; at its clasping collar hang linked rings of white jade."
The poem says:
Most majestic are the Three Treasures, and the Way deserves all honor; The four births and six paths are all judged and set in order. A clarified mind knows how to nourish the law of men and gods; Seeing one's nature, one can hand down the lamp of wisdom. Solemn in defense of the body, a world of gold; Pure in body and mind, ice in the jade pot. Since the Buddha first made the cassock, Through ten thousand kalpas, who has dared cut off a monk?
Hearing this in the treasure hall, the King of Tang was greatly delighted. He asked again: "And what merits has your nine-ringed staff, monk?" The Bodhisattva said: "This tin staff of mine—
With copper inlaid and iron wrought, nine linked rings; Nine joints of immortal vine, forever holding youth. Taken in hand, one wearies of looking at lean bones of blue; Carried down the mountain, one lightly brings white clouds home. Mahakasyapa, the Fifth Patriarch, wandered the courts of Heaven; Rahula sought his mother and broke through the gates of earth. Unstained by the least defilement of the red dust, It joyfully attends a monk of spirit up the jade mountain."
Hearing this, the King of Tang at once ordered the cassock spread out, and examined it closely from end to end: truly a fine thing.
He said: "Elder of the Great Law, I will hide nothing from you. I am now flinging wide the teaching of goodness, planting broadly the fields of blessing. At this moment in the Huasheng Monastery a great company of monks is assembled, expounding the sutras and the Law, and among them is one man of great virtue and discipline, whose name in religion is Xuanzang. I will buy these two treasures of yours and bestow them on him for his use. What price do you truly ask?"
When the Bodhisattva heard this, she and Mucha pressed their palms together in reverence, pronounced the Buddha's name, bowed, and said: "Since he is a man of virtue and discipline, this poor monk will gladly give them to him, and will certainly ask no money." With that, she turned to go.
The King of Tang hastily bade Xiao Yu hold her back, and rising from his seat stood in the hall and asked: "You first said the cassock was five thousand taels and the staff two thousand. Now, seeing that I would buy, you ask nothing. Do you mean to suggest that I, trusting to my imperial station, would force your treasure from you? There is no such reason. I will pay you the price you first named—you must not refuse."
The Bodhisattva raised her hands and said: "This poor monk made a vow beforehand: if there were indeed one who revered the Three Treasures, rejoiced at goodness, and took refuge in my Buddha, I would ask no money, but gladly give them to him. Now I see Your Majesty's enlightened virtue resting in goodness, honoring the gate of my Buddha; and since, moreover, there is a monk of virtue and discipline to proclaim the Great Law, it is right that I offer them. I will certainly take no money. This poor monk asks leave to leave these things behind and withdraw." Seeing her so earnest, the King of Tang was greatly pleased, and at once ordered the Court of Imperial Entertainments to spread a great vegetarian banquet in thanks.
The Bodhisattva again firmly declined and would not stay, but departed in high serenity. As before, she went into hiding in the shrine of the city's local earth god—but of this no more.
Now Taizong held his noon court and sent Wei Zheng bearing a rescript to summon Xuanzang to the palace. The master was just then gathering the monks and mounting the altar, reciting sutras and chanting gathas. The moment the command arrived, he came down from the altar, straightened his robes, and went with Wei Zheng to see the sovereign.
Taizong said: "In seeking to fulfill this good work I have given you much trouble, Master, and have nothing with which to repay you. This morning Xiao Yu met two monks who wished to present a cassock of brocade, a rare treasure, and a nine-ringed tin staff. I have now summoned you, Master, to receive them for your use."
Xuanzang knocked his head in thanks for the grace.
Taizong said: "If you do not disdain it, Master, put it on and let me see you."
The elder shook out the cassock and draped it over his body, took the tin staff in his hand, and stood attending before the steps. Sovereign and ministers alike gazed with delight. Truly a son of the Tathagata Buddha! Just look at him:
Solemn and majestic of face, yet elegant and refined; The Buddha-robe fits his body as though tailored for him. Its radiant splendor fills the universe; Its knotted colors congeal through all creation. Bright pearls arrayed in ranks above and below; Layer upon layer of golden thread woven through before and behind. Dourak silk borders all four sides; Ten thousand rarities spread in brocade and embroidery. Flowers of the Eight Treasures bind the frogged buttons; A golden ring confines the collar, clasping the velvet loop. Buddhas and devas, great and small, ranged high and low; Stars and constellations, honored and humble, ordered left and right. Master Xuanzang has destiny indeed, And this thing before him he is fit to receive.
Just like a living arhat from the Land of Bliss, Surpassing the true enlightenment of the Western Paradise. The tin staff rings its nine clashing rings; The Pilu cap reflects a face ample and serene. Truly a Buddha-son, no empty name— Better than Bodhi, without deceit or error.
The civil and military officials shouted applause before the steps, and Taizong's delight was boundless. He ordered the master to wear the cassock and carry the precious staff, gave him two companies of escorts, and had his ministers conduct him out the court gates, to walk the great streets back to his monastery, just like a new Number One Scholar parading his honors. As he went, Xuanzang bowed again in thanks for the grace, and down the great streets he went, in a blaze of glory, swaying and strutting.
And look: throughout the city of Chang'an, traveling merchants and shopkeepers, young lords and royal scions, scholars of ink and men of letters, grown men and little maids, everyone struggled for a look and vied in praise, all saying: "What a master! Truly a living arhat descended, a living Bodhisattva come to the world!"
Xuanzang came at last to the monastery, and the monks descended from their couches to greet him. The moment they saw him draped in that cassock and bearing that tin staff, they all said Kshitigarbha, the King of the Underworld, had come, and each took refuge and attended at his left and right. Xuanzang ascended the hall, lit incense and worshiped the Buddha, recounted the imperial grace to the assembly in gratitude, and then each returned to his meditation seat. And before they knew it, the red wheel of the sun was sinking in the west. Truly:
The sun goes down; mist veils the grass and trees; In the imperial capital, bells and drums first sound. Three clangs, and the streets are cleared of passersby; Before and behind, the lanes fall still. In the great temple, lamps shine gloriously; In the lonely village, cold and hushed, no sound at all. The Chan monk, entering meditation, ponders the lingering sutras— Just the hour to refine the demons and nourish the nature.
Time passed between finger and thumb, and the seventh day, the central day of the assembly, arrived. Xuanzang submitted a memorial inviting the King of Tang to offer incense. By now the sound of goodness filled the whole realm. Taizong ordered out his cortege and led his civil and military ministers, his empress and consorts, and the imperial kindred, hastening early to the monastery. And the whole city's people, without distinction of rank or age, came to the monastery to hear the exposition.
Then the Bodhisattva said to Mucha: "Today is the central day of the Mass of Land and Water, the first seven days following upon the seven sevens; it may be reckoned complete. Let us two mingle in the crowd: first, to see how their assembly goes; second, to see whether the Golden Cicada has the fortune to wear my treasure; and third, to hear which school of scriptures he expounds."
The two went at once to the monastery. Truly: those with destiny meet their old acquaintance; prajna returns at last to its own place of the Way. Entering the monastery and gazing about—truly a great kingdom of a celestial dynasty, surpassing the Saha world, outdoing the Jetavana grove and Shravasti, no whit inferior to the great monasteries. A stream of immortal music rang out; Buddhist chants filled the air with din. The Bodhisattva went straight to the side of the Many Treasures Terrace, and there indeed was the aspect of the wise Golden Cicada.
The poem says:
All things limpid-bright, beyond a speck of dust; The master Xuanzang sits upon the high throne. The lonely souls delivered come unseen; The noble hearers of the Law come up from the market. Gifts bestowed as each requires—the mind's road far; Birth transcended at will—the hidden gate swings wide. Face to face he expounds the boundless Law, And old and young, every soul, unbosom joy.
Another poem says:
Wandering through the Dharma realm, the hall of exposition, I met a friend of old, no common man. We spoke of the thousand matters before our eyes, And talked of merit through the kalpas of dust. Clouds of the Law trail freely over all the peaks; The net of teaching spreads through the whole sky. Reviewing human life, one turns to thoughts of good, As heaven rains down red petals, falling, falling.
On that terrace the master chanted a while from the Sutra of Receiving Life and Delivering the Dead, discoursed a while from the Talisman of Guarding the Realm and Heavenly Treasure, and proclaimed a while from the Scroll Exhorting Meritorious Works.
Then the Bodhisattva drew near, struck the treasure terrace with her hand, and cried out in a loud stern voice: " Monk! You can only expound the teachings of the Lesser Vehicle—can you expound the Greater?"
Hearing this, Xuanzang's heart leapt with joy. He turned and sprang down from the terrace, raised his hands to the Bodhisattva and said: "Reverend master, your disciple has failed to look up to you—pardon my offense. The assembled monks here all teach only the doctrine of the Lesser Vehicle; I know not what the Greater Vehicle teaching may be." The Bodhisattva said: "This Lesser Vehicle doctrine of yours cannot deliver the dead to rise on high—it serves only to blur into the common world and glimmer along with its light. I have the Greater Vehicle Buddhadharma of the Tripitaka, which can raise the dead to heaven, deliver those in suffering from misery, cultivate the body of boundless long life, and bring about the state of neither coming nor going."
Even as they spoke, the incense-wardens and hall-patrolling officers hurried to report to the King of Tang: "As the master was expounding the wondrous Law, two scabby vagrant monks dragged him down from the terrace to babble wild nonsense."
The king ordered them seized, and soon a crowd of people came pushing and shoving the two monks into the inner dharma hall.
When they stood before Taizong, the monks did not raise their hands in salutation, did not bow, but lifted their faces and said: "What does Your Majesty wish of us?" The King of Tang recognized them: "Are you not the monks who presented the cassock?" The Bodhisattva said: "We are." Taizong said: "Since you have come here to hear the exposition, you should simply have taken some vegetarian food; why did you babel wildly at my master, disturbing the sutra hall and obstructing my service to the Buddha?" The Bodhisattva said: "That master of yours expounds only the Lesser Vehicle doctrine, which cannot deliver the dead to heaven. I have the Greater Vehicle Buddhadharma of the Tripitaka, which can deliver the dead from suffering and make the body incorruptible and immortal." Taizong, with grave face but glad heart, asked: "Where is this Greater Vehicle Buddhadharma of yours?" The Bodhisattva said: "In the Great Thunderclap Monastery of my Lord the Tathagata, in the land of India in the far West of the West. It can untie the knots of a hundred grievances and dispel unwarranted calamities." Taizong said: "Do you remember it?" The Bodhisattva said: "I remember it." Taizong said with great joy: "Let the master be guided there—pray mount the terrace and expound it."
Then the Bodhisattva, leading Mucha, flew up to the high terrace, trod the auspicious clouds, rose straight to the ninth heaven, and revealed her true body as the Reliever of Suffering, bearing in her hands the pure vase and the willow branch. At her left stood Mucha Hui'an, gripping his iron rod, his spirit shaking itself into readiness. Overjoyed, the King of Tang bowed toward heaven in worship, and the civil and military ministers knelt on the ground burning incense. Throughout the monastery—monks and nuns, Daoists and laymen, scholars and artisans and merchants—there was not one who did not bow and pray: "A blessed Bodhisattva! A blessed Bodhisattva!" There are verses in testimony. Just look:
Auspicious mists scattered in rainbow showers, Felicitous light guarding the Dharma body. In the flowered River of Heaven of the ninth heaven Appeared the true one, in woman's form. That Bodhisattva— On her head a crown of golden leaves and knots, spread with kingfisher flowers, shooting golden rays, breathing keen radiance, hung with pearl-strand pendants; On her body a robe of pale, light hue, faintly adorned, coiled with golden dragons and flying with many-colored phoenixes, of plain blue silk; On her breast a pendant of fragrant rings bright as the moon, dancing in the pure wind, set with precious pearls and massed kingfisher jade; Round her waist a skirt of brocade velvet, silk of the ice silkworm, edged with woven gold, treading rainbow clouds, hastening the jade sea; Before her, attending, a white parrot, yellow of plume and red of beak, that flew over the Eastern Ocean and roamed the whole world, grateful and filial; In her hands the precious vase of grace bestowed and the world delivered, and in the vase a branch of weeping willow that sprinkled the azure sky, scourged great wickedness, and swept away the lingering fog. Jade rings strung through embroidered clasps; Golden lotus deep-set beneath her feet. Permitted to come and go through the Three Heavens— This is she who relieves suffering and distress, Guanshiyin.
The joy of it made the Emperor Taizong forget his rivers and mountains; the love of it made the civil and military ministers forget their court courtesies; the assembled multitude all intoned "Homage to the Bodhisattva Guanshiyin!" Taizong at once gave command that a skilled painter should portray the true image of the Bodhisattva. At the word of command there was chosen Wu Daozi, a man of far-seeing vision, brilliant at portraying gods and painting sages. This was the very man who later painted the meritorious ministers in the Gallery of Misty Vapor. At that time he spread out his wondrous brush and drew her true form.
The Bodhisattva's auspicious cloud receded little by little, and in an instant the golden light was gone. Then from mid-air, whirling down, dropped a slip of paper bearing a few lines of verse, written plainly. The verse said:
"Respectfully to the sovereign of the Great Tang: In the West there are wondrous texts. The journey is 108,000 li— Diligently seek the Greater Vehicle. These scriptures, brought back to your honored land, Can lift the ghosts beyond the throng. If there be one who will undertake the quest, Let him seek the true fruit, the golden body."
When Taizong had seen the verse, he commanded the monks: "Suspend the blessed assembly for now. When I have sent to fetch the scriptures of the Greater Vehicle, we shall once more with crimson sincerity rebuild this work of goodness." All the officials obeyed without exception.
Then, there in the monastery, he asked: "Who is willing to bear my command and go to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures?"
Scarcely had he finished asking when the master stepped forth from the side, bowed before the throne, and said: "This poor monk, though lacking in talent, is willing to labor like dog or horse for Your Majesty, to seek and fetch the true scriptures, praying that my sovereign's rivers and mountains may stand forever firm." The King of Tang was overjoyed, stepped forward, and raised him up with his own imperial hands: "If you, Master, can indeed show such loyalty and worth, fearing neither the length of the road nor the toil of mountains and rivers, I am willing to swear brotherhood with you." Xuanzang knocked his head in thanks for the grace.
And the King of Tang was indeed a sovereign of utmost virtue: right there in the monastery before the Buddha he bowed four times to Xuanzang, addressing him as "Imperial Brother, Sage Monk."
Xuanzang thanked him beyond all measure: "Your Majesty, what virtue or talent has this poor monk, to be graced with such heavenly favor? On this journey I will certainly spend my strength to the point of laying down my life, until I reach the Western Heaven. If I do not reach the Western Heaven and obtain the true scriptures, I dare not return to this land even in death; may I sink forever into the crushing hells."
Then he offered incense before the Buddha and took this as his oath. Taizong was greatly pleased, ordered the imperial carriage to return, and said he would choose a lucky and favorable day to issue the travel rescript and set him forth; and thereupon the cortege returned and all dispersed.
Xuanzang also went back to the Hongfu Monastery. The monks of that monastery and several of his disciples had already heard of the quest for the scriptures, and all came to see him.
They asked: "Is it true you have sworn an oath to go to the Western Heaven?"
Xuanzang said: "It is true." His disciples said: "Master, we have heard it said that the road to the Western Heaven is long, and full of tigers, leopards, demons and monsters; we fear you may go and never return, and no power can save your life." Xuanzang said: "I have sworn the great oath: if I do not obtain the true scriptures, may I sink forever into the crushing hells. In the main, I have received the sovereign's grace and favor, and cannot but repay my country with utter loyalty. This journey of mine truly drifts dim and distant; fortune and misfortune cannot be foretold." He said further: "Disciples, after I am gone—whether three or two years, or five or seven—watch the pine branches at the monastery gate: when their tips turn east, I shall return. Until then, I shall most surely not come back." The disciples treasured these words in their hearts.
The next morning Taizong held court, assembled his civil and military ministers, wrote out the rescript for seeking the scriptures, and affixed the traveling seal of state.
The Director of Astronomy memorialized: "Today the star of the traveler's blessing is in conjunction—an auspicious star, well suited for a far journey."
The King of Tang was greatly pleased.
Then the Yellow Gate official announced: "The Imperial Brother, the Master, awaits your command outside the court gate."
He was at once summoned to the treasure hall, and the king said: "Imperial Brother, today is the lucky day for departure. Here is the travel rescript for passing the frontier. I also have a purple-gold alms bowl, which I give you to beg your food along the way. I have further chosen two attendants for the long road, and a dun horse to carry you, given as a mount for the far journey. You may set forth at once." Xuanzang was overjoyed, thanked him for the grace, received the gifts, and had no thought of lingering.
The King of Tang ordered out his cortege and with his ministers escorted him all the way beyond the frontier pass, where the monks of the Hongfu Monastery and his disciples, bearing Xuanzang's winter and summer clothes, were already waiting outside the pass. Seeing them, the king first ordered the luggage and horse seen to, and then bade an officer take the ewer and pour the wine.
Taizong raised the cup and asked: "By what honored style shall I call you, Imperial Brother?" Xuanzang said: "This poor monk has left the world; I have presumed to take no style." Taizong said: "The Bodhisattva said that in the Western Heaven there are scriptures in three divisions of the canon. Let your style be drawn from the scriptures: what say we call you Sanzang—'Tripitaka,' the Three Baskets?" Xuanzang bowed again in thanks, and received the imperial wine, saying: "Your Majesty, wine is the first prohibition of the monk's life; this poor monk, since taking human form, has never learned to drink." Taizong said: "Today's journey is a matter unlike any other. This is only unfermented temple wine; drink but this one cup, that my parting toast may be complete." Sanzang dared not refuse.
He took the wine and was about to drink, when Taizong bowed his head, picked up a pinch of dust with his imperial fingers, and flicked it into the wine. Sanzang did not understand his meaning.
Taizong laughed and said: "Imperial Brother, this journey to the Western Heaven—when will you return?"
Sanzang said: "In but three years I shall come straight back to the honored land." Taizong said: "The days are long and the years run deep; the mountains are far and the road is distant. Imperial Brother, drink this wine: better to cherish one pinch of the soil of your native land than to love ten thousand taels of gold in a strange country." Only then did Sanzang understand the meaning of the pinch of dust. He thanked him once more for his grace, drained the cup to the last drop, took his leave, went out the pass, and departed. The King of Tang returned to his palace.
But whether you would know how this journey fared—listen to the explanation in the next chapter.