The story tells how the monster's firelight fled ahead and the Great Sage's iridescent glow followed behind. As they went, a high mountain suddenly rose before them. The monster gathered his red glow, showed his true form, plunged into his cave, and came out brandishing a nine-toothed rake for battle.
Pilgrim shouted: "Reckless monster! Where did you come from, you evil fiend? How do you know old Sun's name? What powers have you? Confess them honestly, and I'll spare your life!"
The monster said: "So you don't know my powers either! Step up, stand firm, and I'll tell you:
From birth my nature was a dullard's, I loved my ease, my lazy rest, without end. I never nurtured my nature nor refined the true; In muddled chaos I wore away the days and months. Then suddenly, at ease, I met a true immortal, And straight we sat and traded common courtesies. He urged me to turn my heart back, not to fall to the mortal world, Slaying living things and heaping up boundless sin. The day the great term comes and life is ended, In the Eight Misfortunes and the Three Paths, remorse bites without cease. At his words my purpose turned; I meant to cultivate; I heard his speech, my heart turned back to seek the wondrous key. By fate I bowed at once and made him master; He pointed out to me the gates of Heaven and Earth's portals. He handed down the Great Return Elixir, nine times refined; By night and day the labor never ceased. Above, it reached the Clay-Pellet Palace atop my crown; Below, it reached the Bubbling Spring point upon my soles. The kidney water coursed all round into the Flowery Pool; The Cinnabar Field warmed, and warmly glowed. The Infant Boy and the Lovely Maid were matched to yin and yang; Lead and mercury together split the sun and moon. The Dragon of Li and Tiger of Kan I learned to harmonize; The numinous turtle drank the golden crow's blood dry. The Three Flowers gathered at the crown—I won my root; The Five Breaths courted the Origin, all through and through.
When the work was round, my deeds complete, I flew aloft; Twin ranks of heaven's immortals came to welcome me. Bright-colored clouds were born beneath my feet; Light of body, hale of limb, I faced the golden gates. The Jade Emperor spread a feast for all the immortals, Each ranked by grade and file in ordered lines. He named me Marshal, put the River of Heaven in my charge, Commander of the waters, with staff of office borne. It was the Queen Mother's Peach Banquet, once— The feast thrown open at the Jasper Pool, all guests invited. That day, drunk, my wits gone dim and dizzy, I staggered east and west and played the reckless fool. Flaunting my strength I burst into the Vast Cold Palace, Where the graceful fairy maidens came to greet me. At sight of those entrancing looks, the soul near left me; The old worldly heart of former days would not be quenched. All thought of high and low, of rank and reverence, gone, I seized the moon-lady, bade her share my bed. Time and again she would consent to nothing, Hiding east and west, her heart displeased. My lustful daring reached the sky; my roars were thunder— They nearly shook the gates and portals of the sky. The Inspecting Officer memorialized the Jade Emperor; That day, alas, my luck ran low. The Vast Cold Palace was ringed about, no breath of wind, No door to advance, no way to flee, no hope of slipping out. The host of gods laid hands on me and held me fast— But with the wine still in my heart, I felt no fear.
They dragged me to the Hall of Divine Mists, before the Jade Emperor, And by the statute I was sentenced to be executed. Thanks be to Gold Star Li, the White Metal Star, Who left the ranks, bowed low, and pleaded for me. The sentence was commuted: two thousand blows of the maul, Till flesh split, skin tore, and bones all but broke. Spared death, banished beyond the gates of Heaven, I came to Fuling Mountain to build a family estate. Because I sinned, I entered the wrong womb at rebirth— And my common name is Zhu Ganglie."
When Pilgrim heard this: "So you're the Water Marshal Tianpeng fallen to the world below! No wonder you know old Sun's name." The monster said: "Bah! You fraudulent Protector of Horses! When you made that trouble of yours back then, who knows how many of us you dragged down with you—and now you come here bullying people! No more insolence! Take a rake-stroke from me!" Pilgrim was not the man to stand on ceremony. He raised his staff and struck at the head. And the two of them battled on that mountainside in the black of night. What a fight:
Pilgrim's golden eyes like forks of lightning, the demon's round eyes like silver flowers. This one spewed colored mist from his mouth; that one breathed red haze from his lips. Red haze breathed out lit up the dark; colored mist spewed forth gave light to night. The gold-banded cudgel, the nine-toothed rake—two heroes, worthy of all praise: one, a Great Sage descended to the mortal world; one, a Marshal fallen to the sky's far edge. That one, losing all dignity, became a monster; this one, escaping bitter tribulation, bowed to a monk. The rake went out just like a dragon stretching claws; the staff met it even as a phoenix threading flowers.
That one cried: "You've broken up a marriage—it's like killing a man's father!"
This one cried: "You ravished a young girl—rightly should be seized!"
Idle words, a din of wrangling, back and forth, staff against rake. And as they fought the sky began to pale; the demon's two arms grew numb and sore.
The two of them fought from the second watch until the east grew white. Unable to hold out, the monster broke from the field and fled; he turned again into a wild wind, went straight back into his cave, shut the door fast, and would not show his head again. Outside the cave door Pilgrim saw a stone tablet inscribed with three characters: "Cloud Pathway Cave."
Seeing the monster would not come out, and the day grown bright, he thought: "My master will be waiting. Let me go back and see him first; it will be time enough to come catch this monster after."
He trod his cloud, gave a little leap, and was soon at Gao Village.
The story tells how Sanzang and the old gentlemen had talked of today and argued of olden times, sleepless the whole night through. He was just wondering that Pilgrim did not come when suddenly Pilgrim stood in the courtyard. Pilgrim stowed his iron staff and straightened his robe, then went up into the hall.
He called: "Master, I'm back." The old gentlemen, flustered, bowed down together, thanking him: "Much toil! Much toil!" Sanzang asked: "Wukong, you've been gone the whole night—where's the demon you caught?" Pilgrim said: "Master, that demon is no common evil spirit of the mortal world, nor some wild beast of the mountains. He was Marshal Tianpeng descended to earth; because he entered the wrong womb at rebirth, his face and head took the shape of a wild boar—yet his spirit and wits are still whole. He said he took his surname from his looks, and is called Zhu Ganglie. Old Sun struck at him with his staff in the rear compound, and he fled as a gust of wind. Old Sun hit the wind one blow, and he turned into a streak of fire and made straight for his home cave on his own mountain, then came out with a nine-toothed rake and fought old Sun the whole night through. Just now, as day was breaking, he fled from the fight, shut his cave door tight, and won't come out. Old Sun meant to smash that door in and settle it with him once for all—but fearing you'd be anxious here, waiting and wondering, I came back first with the news."
As he finished, Old Gao came forward and knelt: "Venerable Sir, there's no help for it—drive him off though you may, once you've gone he'll come back. What then? I must trouble you to catch him once and for all, root him out, and end the trouble for good. I, old man that I am, dare not be remiss: I have ample thanks to give. All this estate and farmland, with all our kin and friends to draw up the papers, I'll split with you, Venerable Sir, half and half. Only cut the grass and dig up the root, and don't let it ruin the good name of the House of Gao."
Pilgrim laughed: "Old man, you don't know when you're well off. That monster told me himself: big eater though he is, for the tea and rice of your house he's done you many a good turn. All the family wealth these years have built up came from his strength. He never ate your food for nothing—why should you want to be rid of him? By his account, he's a god of Heaven come down below, working your farm and doing your chores, and he never did your daughter any harm. A son-in-law like that—well matched, surely, and not so very ruinous to your family name or your standing. Honestly, you might as well keep him."
Old Gao said: "Venerable Sir, scandal aside, the reputation is ugly to hear. At every turn someone says: 'The Gao family took in a monster for a son-in-law!' How is a man to bear a saying like that?" Sanzang said: "Wukong, since you've had this bout with him, see it through to the very end—that's the only way to finish what you began." Pilgrim said: "I was only trying him out for fun. This time I'll surely bring him in for you all to see. Don't worry." He called: "Old Gao, keep waiting on my master well. I'm off."
At the word "off" he was gone without form or shadow, leapt to that mountain of his, came to the cave mouth, and with a burst of the iron staff smashed the two doors to splinters.
He cursed aloud: "You chaff-guzzling lunkhead! Come out and fight old Sun!"
The monster was inside the cave, still gasping and puffing.
Hearing the doors battered, and hearing himself cursed as a chaff-guzzling lunkhead, his rage was past restraining. He had no choice but to drag his rake, rouse his spirits, and come running out, cursing fiercely: "You Protector of Horses, you thorough-paced idler! What business of yours was it, to smash my front gate? Go look at the statutes: 'breaking down a man's front gate and entering'—that's a capital crime, Miscellaneous Articles!"
Pilgrim laughed: "You blockhead! I've smashed your gate, and I've still got a defense. But you—seizing another man's daughter by force, with no go-betweens, no witnesses, no betrothal gifts of tea and wine—that's a capital crime of the True Offenses, and no mistake!"
The monster said: "Spare the speeches—taste old Pig's rake!"
Pilgrim caught it on his staff: "This rake of yours—did you work it as a garden tool for old Gao, hoeing ground and planting vegetables? What's so fine about it that I should fear you!" The monster said: "You've got it wrong! Is this rake a thing of the mortal world? Listen and I'll tell you:
This is no common iron, but divine ice-steel, Wrought and ground to shape, luminous and pure. Lord Lao Zi himself swung hammer and tongs; Yinghuo, the Fire Star, fed in the coals with his own hands. The Five Emperors of the Five Quarters spent their cunning on it; The Six Ding and Six Jia took endless pains. They fashioned nine teeth like pendant jade, And cast the twin rings with leaves of falling gold. Its body arrays the Six Luminaries, ranks the Five Stars; Its frame conforms to the Four Seasons, fits the Eight Terms. Long, short, high, low—it settles heaven and earth; Left, right, yin, yang—it divides the sun and moon. The spirit generals of the Six Lines obey the statutes of the sky; The trigrams and starry hosts are ranked about the Dipper.
It is named the Rake of Supreme Treasure, outshining gold, And was presented to the Jade Emperor to guard the Cinnabar Gates. Because I had cultivated to a Great Luo Immortal, And was become a guest of long life nourished well, He enfeoffed me Marshal with the title Tianpeng, And bestowed this rake on me as my staff of office. Raise it, and fierce flames and glowing light leap forth; Bring it down, and a violent wind drives flurries of auspicious snow. The generals of Heaven's Bureau all stand aghast; The Yama Kings of the underworld lose heart and courage. Where in the world of men is such a weapon found? On earth there is no other iron like this. It changes with my fancy, reads my very mind; It tosses and turns at will, obedient to my spell.
Years on end it has never left my side; Companion through the seasons, not a day apart. Three meals a day, I never dropped it once; One night's sleep—it never left my hand. I wore it to the Peach Banquet at the Jasper Pool, And bore it to court before the imperial gates. But trusting to wine, I turned to violence; Relying on my strength, I played the reckless fool. Heaven banished me and sent me down to dust, To work my sins out in the world below. In mountain caves, my heart gone wrong, I ate men's flesh; At Gao Village, pleased with love, I made a match. This rake, dropped in the sea, upsets the dragons' dens; Carried up mountains, it smashes tiger and wolf lairs.
Of every other weapon, say no more— Of all, my rake alone is best. What trouble winning, locked in combat, hold by hold? What need to speak of triumph sought in battle? What fear of you, with head of bronze and brain of iron and body steel? One stroke of this rake—your soul dissolves, your spirit drains away!"
When Pilgrim heard this, he put away his iron staff and said: "Blockhead, no more boasting! Old Sun will stick this head of mine out here—you give it a stroke or two, and let's see whether my soul dissolves and my spirit drains."
The monster truly raised his rake and struck with all his might. With a resounding thwack the rake sparked and flamed—and never so much as stirred a scrap of Pilgrim's scalp.
The monster was so frightened his hands went numb and his legs went weak, and he cried: "What a head! What a head!" Pilgrim said: "You really don't know. Old Sun, for wrecking Heaven's palace—stealing the elixir, pilfering the peaches, and making off with the imperial wine—was seized by the little sage Erlang and bound before the Palace of the Dipper and the Ox, where the host of heavenly gods hacked me with axes, pounded me with mauls, hacked me with swords, stabbed me with knives, burned me with fire and battered me with thunder—and never did me a hair's worth of harm. Then Lord Lao Zi took me off, popped me into the Furnace of the Eight Trigrams, and refined me in divine fire till I came out with eyes of fire and gold and a head of bronze and arms of iron. Don't believe it? Strike a few more blows, and see whether it hurts or not."
The monster said: "You monkey—I remember you. When you wrecked Heaven's palace you lived in the Water Curtain Cave on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, in the Aolai Country of the Eastern Continent of Superior Body. Nothing's been heard of you for ages—how do you turn up here, coming to my door to bully me? Don't tell me my father-in-law went and invited you?"
Pilgrim said: "Your father-in-law never invited me. It's this: old Sun has turned from the evil way to the true, left the Dao and become a monk, protecting the emperor's sworn brother of the Great Tang of the Eastern Land, called the Master Sanzang, on his journey to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek scriptures. Passing through Gao Village, we lodged the night; old Gao, as the talk turned to his troubles, asked me to save his daughter and catch you, you chaff-guzzling lunkhead!"
At these words the monster dropped his rake, made a deep bow with a "he-e-e", and said: "Where is the scripture-pilgrim? Pray introduce me, I beg you."
Pilgrim said: "What do you want with him?" The monster said: "I was urged to the good by the Bodhisattva Guanshiyin and received her precepts. Here I've kept the vegetarian fast; she charged me to follow the scripture-pilgrim to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures, to set my crimes against my merits and win the true fruit at last. She told me to wait for him; but for years now, no word. Now that you've become his disciple, why didn't you tell me about the scriptures at the start, instead of bullying and battering at my gate?" Pilgrim said: "None of your tricks to soften my heart and slip your way out. If you truly mean to protect the Tang monk, with no shadow of a lie, then swear an oath to Heaven, and I'll take you to see my master." The monster flopped down on his knees and kowtowed toward the sky like a pestle pounding rice, over and over, crying: "Amitabha Buddha! Namo Buddha! If I am not true of heart and honest of intent, may I violate the statutes of Heaven and be hacked into ten thousand pieces!"
Seeing him swear his oath and vow his vow, Pilgrim said: "Since it's so, light a fire and burn this dwelling of yours, and then I'll take you."
The monster truly hauled up reeds and thorn-brush, lit a fire, and burned the Cloud Pathway Cave till it looked like a broken tile kiln.
He said to Pilgrim: "Now I have nothing holding me back. Lead the way."
Pilgrim said: "Hand me that rake to carry." The monster passed the rake over. Pilgrim then plucked a hair, blew on it a magic breath, cried "Change!"—and it became a three-strand hemp rope. He came over and bound the monster's hands behind his back. The monster truly put his hands behind him and let himself be tied, however Pilgrim pleased.
Then Pilgrim grabbed his ear and hauled him along, crying: "Quick march! Quick march!" The monster said: "Gently, gently! Your hand is heavy—you're pulling my ear-roots off!" Pilgrim said: "Gently it can't be! No allowances for you! As the saying goes: 'A docile pig still needs a rough capture.' Only when you've seen my master and proved your true heart will I let you go." And the two of them, half on cloud and half on mist, made straight back for Gao Village. There is a poem in witness:
The nature of Metal, hard and strong, can overcome Wood; The Mind-Ape tamed, the Wood-Dragon comes to heel. Metal yielding to Wood, both merge as one; Wood cleaving to Metal's kindness—each fulfills its part. One host, one guest, with no wall between; Three unions, three mergers, hold the hidden mystery. Nature and passion joined in joy, the primal powers meet; Together they shall witness the West—the word will not be broken.
In a moment they reached the village.
Pilgrim, gripping his rake and tugging his ear, said: "Look—who sits erect in that hall? My master."
Old Gao, his kin and friends, suddenly seeing Pilgrim come dragging the monster, bound hand and foot by the wrists and led by the ear, hurried joyfully out into the courtyard, crying: "Venerable Sirs! Venerable Sirs! That's our son-in-law all right!" The monster walked up, dropped to both knees, hands still bound, kowtowed to Sanzang, and cried aloud: "Master, your disciple failed to welcome you. Had I known it was Master lodging at my father-in-law's, I'd have come to bow and receive you—why all these comings and goings?" Sanzang said: "Wukong, how did you bring him to bow to me?" Only then did Pilgrim let go. Whacking him with the rake's handle, he barked: "Blockhead! Tell it yourself!" And the monster gave a full account of how the Bodhisattva had urged him to the good.
Sanzang was overjoyed.
He called: "Squire Gao, bring an incense table, if you please."
Old Gao hurriedly carried one out. Sanzang washed his hands and burned incense, bowed toward the south, and said: "Deep thanks for the Bodhisattva's holy grace!" The old gentlemen all added incense and bowed as well. When the bows were done, Sanzang went up into the hall and sat on high, and told Wukong to loosen the rope. Pilgrim gave his body one shake, drew the hair back to him, and the binding came undone of itself. The monster bowed afresh to Sanzang, vowing to follow him west. Then he bowed to Pilgrim too; and as the earlier of the two, Pilgrim was the elder—so he called Pilgrim "Elder Brother."
Sanzang said: "Since you follow me to the good fruit and will be a disciple, I must give you a religious name, to call you by morning and night."
He said: "Master, the Bodhisattva has already laid her hand on my crown and received my vows, and gave me a religious name: Zhu Wuneng." Sanzang said with a laugh: "Good! Good! Your elder brother is called Wukong, and you are called Wuneng—truly you are of the lineage of my school of the Law." Wuneng said: "Master, I received the Bodhisattva's precepts and gave up the five strong-smelling foods and the three forbidden meats. At my father-in-law's I kept the vegetarian fast and touched no meat; but today, having met my master, may I break the fast?" Sanzang said: "No! No! Since you abstain from the five strong foods and three forbidden meats, I'll give you another name besides: I'll call you Bajie, 'Eight Prohibitions.'" The blockhead said happily: "I obey my master's command." And so he was also called Zhu Bajie.
Old Gao, seeing him thus delivered from evil to the true, was doubly delighted. He ordered the household servants to arrange a banquet in thanks to the Tang monk.
Bajie stepped forward and caught hold of Old Gao: "Father-in-law, have my humble wife come out to bow to her father-in-law and her uncles—what do you say?"
Pilgrim laughed: "Worthy brother, since you've entered the gate of the Sakya and become a monk, from this day on never mention that 'humble wife' of yours again. In this world there are household Daoists who live at home with wives—but where have you ever seen a household monk? Come, let's take our seats in order, eat our vegetarian meal, and make an early start on the road to the Western Heaven."
Old Gao laid the tables and invited Sanzang to the seat of honor. Pilgrim and Bajie sat to left and right; the kin sat below. Old Gao opened a jar of vegetarian wine, filled a brimming cup, poured a libation to Heaven and Earth, then offered it to Sanzang.
Sanzang said: "I'll not hide it from you, Squire—I was a vegetarian from the womb; from infancy I've touched no meat."
Old Gao said: "Knowing the Venerable Master's pure habits, we've dared touch no meat. This wine too is vegetarian—one cup can do no harm." Sanzang said: "But I dare not touch wine either. Wine is the first precept of us monks." Wuneng said in a panic: "Master, I've kept the fast, but I've never given up wine." Wukong said: "Though old Sun's capacity is small—he can't drink a jar or so—he's never given up wine either." Sanzang said: "Since that's how it is, you brothers may drink a little vegetarian wine. Only no drunken carousing that spoils the work." So the two of them took the first cup.
All sat down as before, and the vegetarian feast was laid. No tongue could tell the plenty of cups and platters, the abundance of dishes.
When the feast was done, Old Gao brought out on a red-lacquered tray two hundred taels of loose gold and silver, offering them to the three Venerables for expenses on the road; and three cotton cloth robes for outer wear.
Sanzang said: "We are wandering monks, begging our rice at village after village, seeking our meals wherever we find ourselves—how could we accept gold, silver, and treasure?"
Pilgrim stepped up, reached out his hand, and grabbed a handful.
He called: "Gao Cai! Yesterday I troubled you to lead my master here; today we've taken in a disciple, and I have nothing to thank you with. Let this loose gold and silver serve as a fee for your pains—take it and buy yourself straw sandals. And hereafter, whenever there's a demon about, drum up a few more for me—there'll be more thanks where this came from."
Gao Cai received it and kowtowed his thanks for the gift.
Old Gao said again: "Since the masters will take no gold or silver, we pray you accept these rough garments, a small token of our hearts."
Sanzang said again: "We who have left the world, if we accepted so much as a thread of bribe, could not complete our cultivation in a thousand kalpas. Only let us take some of the cakes and fruit left over from the feast, to serve as dry rations—that is enough." Bajie, at the side, said: "Master, Elder Brother—if you two won't, that's your affair. I've been this family's son-in-law these several years; even my food allowance should come to three piculs by now. Father-in-law! My gown was torn by my Elder Brother last night—give me a black brocade cassock; my shoes are splitting—give me a good new pair of shoes." Old Gao, hearing this, dared not refuse.
So they bought a new pair of shoes and a fresh robe, and Bajie changed out of his old clothes.
Then Bajie swayed and swaggered up to Old Gao, bowed with a "he-e-e", and said: "Give my respects to my mother-in-law, my sisters-in-law, first and second, and to all the uncles and cousins of both lines: today I go off to be a monk, and have no time to take leave of them face to face—don't hold it against me. Father-in-law, you take good care of my wife: if it should happen we fail to fetch the scriptures, I'll come back, return to the lay life, and be your son-in-law and live with you as before."
Pilgrim barked: "Lunkhead! None of that loose talk!" Bajie said: "Brother, it's not loose talk. Only suppose some little slip happens along the way—then wouldn't the monkhood be missed, the wife be missed, and both chances spoilt together?" Sanzang said: "Less idle talk—we make an early start." So they packed a load of luggage, and Bajie shouldered it; the white horse was saddled, and Sanzang rode; Pilgrim carried his iron staff over his shoulder and led the way in front.
A band of three, they bade farewell to Old Gao and all the kin and friends, and set their faces west. There is a poem in witness:
Mist and rosy haze on every hand, the trees stand tall; The Buddha's son of the Tang, toiling, toiling on. Hungry, he begs one bowl among a thousand homes; Cold, he wears a patched robe of a thousand stitches. Let the horse of the will not gallop loose within the breast; Let the unruly Mind-Ape not be suffered to howl. When passion and nature settle, all conditions join; The moon full, the golden flower blooms—that is the washing of the marrow.
The three pressed westward, and for a month the road was calm. They crossed out of the borders of Us-Tsang, and suddenly, lifting their heads, saw a high mountain.
Sanzang drew his whip and reined his horse: "Wukong, Wuneng—the mountain ahead is high. We must go carefully, carefully."
Bajie said: "No matter. That mountain is called Mount Futu, and in it lives the Chan Master of the Crow's Nest, who cultivates there. Old Pig has met him too." Sanzang said: "What manner of things does he do?" Bajie said: "He has real attainments in the Way. He once urged me to cultivate with him, but I didn't go—that's all." As master and disciples talked, they soon came up on the mountain. What a mountain! Just see:
South of the mountain, green pines and blue cedars; north of it, green willows and red peaches. Clamor and chatter: mountain birds in talk; flutter and float: cranes flying together. Fragrance on fragrance: flowers of a thousand colors; green on green: strange weeds of ten thousand kinds. Below the ravines, green water rolling; before the cliffs, auspicious clouds in clusters. Truly a place of most secluded charm—still and silent, no one coming or going.
The master, gazing from horseback, saw before the fragrant cedar a nest of brushwood. To its left, elk carried flowers in their mouths; to its right, mountain monkeys offered fruit. On the treetops, blue luan-birds and colorful phoenixes sang together; black cranes and golden pheasants gathered on every branch. Bajie pointed: "There's the Chan Master of the Crow's Nest!" Sanzang urged his horse and whipped it on, straight to the foot of the tree.
The story tells how the Chan Master, seeing the three of them come, left his nest at once and leapt down from the tree.
Sanzang dismounted and bowed in offering; the Chan Master lifted him up with his hand: "Holy Monk, rise. I failed to welcome you—I beg your pardon."
Bajie said: "Old Chan Master, my respects." The Master asked in surprise: "You are Zhu Ganglie of Fuling Mountain—how came you by such great fortune, to travel with the Holy Monk?" Bajie said: "The year before last, the Bodhisattva Guanyin urged me to the good, and I vowed to follow him as his disciple." The Chan Master rejoiced: "Good! Good! Good!" Then he pointed at Pilgrim and asked: "And who is this one?" Pilgrim laughed: "Old Chan Master, how is it you know him, but not me?" The Chan Master said: "From lack of acquaintance, that's all." Sanzang said: "He is my first disciple, Sun Wukong." The Chan Master said with a smile: "My rudeness—forgive me."
Sanzang bowed again and asked where the Great Thunderclap Monastery of the Western Heaven still lay.
The Chan Master said: "Far! Far! And the road is full of tigers and leopards—hard going."
Sanzang pressed his questions earnestly: "How far, truly, is the road?" The Chan Master said: "Far though the road is, the day of arrival must come at last. Only the demon miasmas are hard to escape. I have a scroll of the Heart Sutra—fifty-four lines in all, two hundred and seventy characters. Whenever you come to a place of demon miasma, you have only to recite this sutra, and no harm can touch you." Sanzang threw himself to the ground and begged; and the Chan Master recited it aloud and transmitted it. The sutra says:
"Maha Prajna Paramita Heart Sutra. Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, practicing deep Prajna Paramita, looked down and saw the five aggregates as all empty, and crossed beyond all suffering and hardship. Shariputra, form is not different from emptiness; emptiness is not different from form. Form is emptiness; emptiness is form. So too with feeling, perception, volition, and consciousness. Shariputra, all dharmas are marked by emptiness: not born, not destroyed; not defiled, not pure; not increasing, not decreasing. Therefore in emptiness there is no form, no feeling, perception, volition, or consciousness; no eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, or mind; no form, sound, scent, taste, touch, or object of mind; no realm of sight, and on to no realm of consciousness; no ignorance, and no end of ignorance; on to no old age and death, and no end of old age and death. There is no suffering, no extinguishing, no path; no wisdom and no attainment. Because there is nothing to attain, the Bodhisattva relies on Prajna Paramita, and the mind is without hindrance; because there is no hindrance, there is no terror; far removed from inverted dream-thinking, one reaches ultimate nirvana. The Buddhas of the three ages, relying on Prajna Paramita, attain Anuttara Samyak Sambodhi. Therefore know that Prajna Paramita is the great divine mantra, the great bright mantra, the supreme mantra, the mantra beyond compare, able to remove all suffering—true, not false. Therefore I speak the Prajna Paramita mantra, and the mantra goes: 'Gate! Gate! Paragate! Parasamgate! Bodhi Svaha!'"
Now the Master of the Tang had roots of his own: hearing the Heart Sutra but once, he could remember it—and so it has been handed down to this day. This is the master scripture of the cultivation of the true, the meeting-gate of Buddhahood.
The Chan Master, having transmitted the sutra, trod the cloud-light and would have risen into the crow's nest; but Sanzang caught hold of him again and begged him—resolute to ask the truth of the road that led west.
The Chan Master laughed and said in verse: "The road is not hard to travel—hear my instructions: A thousand mountains, a thousand waters deep; many the miasmas, many the demons' haunts. If you come to the Cliff That Meets the Sky, set your heart at ease, be not afraid. When you pass the Rock of Rubbed Ears, turn your footsteps sideways. Be careful in the Black Pine Forest—wicked foxes often stop the road there. Spirits fill the cities and towns; demon lords crowd every mountain. Tigers sit in the halls of state; gray wolves serve as registrars. Lions and elephants all proclaim themselves kings; tigers and leopards all serve as guards. The wild boar carries the luggage; a water monster you will meet ahead. The old stone monkey of many years—what cause has he for rage? Ask that old acquaintance of yours: he knows the road that leads out west."
When Pilgrim heard this, he laughed coldly: "We needn't ask him—we need only ask me."
Sanzang did not yet understand the meaning. The Chan Master turned into golden light and went straight up into the crow's nest. The Elder bowed his thanks toward it. But Pilgrim, his heart in a fury, raised his iron staff and battered wildly upward—only to see lotus flowers spring up ten thousand strong, and auspicious clouds guard the nest a thousand layers deep. Though Pilgrim had strength to churn the seas and overturn the rivers, he could not so much as bend one strand of the crow's nest's rattan.
Seeing this, Sanzang caught Pilgrim's arm: "Wukong—such a Bodhisattva as that! Why batter down his nest?"
Pilgrim said: "He had his fling at cursing us two brothers, and off he went." Sanzang said: "He was telling the road to the Western Heaven—when did he curse you?" Pilgrim said: "Where would you know it? 'The wild boar carries the luggage'—that was cursing Bajie. 'The old stone monkey of many years'—that was cursing old Sun. How do you explain that?" Bajie said: "Elder Brother, calm yourself. This Chan Master knows things past and things to come. But look—that line of his, 'a water monster you will meet ahead'—who knows if it will prove true? Let him go." Pilgrim, seeing the lotus flowers and auspicious mists all about the nest, could only help his master onto the horse, and they went down the mountain and set out west. And that going:
Was sure to make rare the blessings of peace in the world of men, And multiply the plagues of demons in the mountains.
But how the road ahead turned out in the end—listen to the explanation in the next chapter.