The story goes that the Great Sage Sun, with Bajie and the Sha Monk, took leave of old Chen and came to the riverbank. He said: "Brothers, you two decide which one goes into the water first."
Bajie said: "Brother, the two of us aren't so skilled at this—you'd better go first."
The Pilgrim said: "To tell the truth, brother—if it were a mountain demon, I wouldn't need you to lift a finger. But water is not my domain. Even when I go down to the sea or travel a river, I have to pinch the water-repelling spell, or change into the form of some fish or crab. And if I'm pinching the spell, I can't swing my iron cudgel, can't use my magic, can't fight monsters. I've long known that you two are men of the water—that's why I want you to go down."
The Sha Monk said: "Brother, I can go, but I don't know what it's like down there. Let's all go together. Brother, you change into something, or I'll carry you. We'll part the water, find the demon saint's lair, and you go in first and scout. If the master is unharmed and still there, we'll do our best to fight. But if this isn't the demon's doing—if the master has drowned or been eaten—we needn't labor for nothing. We'd best find another road. What do you say?"
The Pilgrim said: "Brother, you speak sense. Which of you will carry me?"
Bajie was secretly delighted: "This monkey has made a fool of me Heaven knows how many times. Now it turns out he can't swim! Let old Pig carry him and make a fool of him for once!" The idiot said with a grin: "Brother, I'll carry you."
The Pilgrim knew what he was thinking but played along: "Yes, that's fine. You're a bit stronger than Wujing." Bajie hoisted him onto his back.
The Sha Monk parted the water, and the three brothers entered the Heaven-Reaching River. They traveled a hundred li or so beneath the water. The idiot, wanting to play a trick on the Pilgrim, gave a sudden lurch and took the opportunity to fling the Pilgrim forward. He fell flat on his face—but what he'd thrown was a false body, made from a hair, and it drifted away without trace or shadow.
The Sha Monk said: "Second Brother, what are you doing? If you can't walk straight and fall in the mud, that's one thing—but where have you thrown Eldest Brother?"
Bajie said: "That monkey can't take a fall—one toss and he's dissolved. Brother, never mind his life or death—let's go find the master."
The Sha Monk said: "No good. We need him. He may not know water, but he's cleverer than we are. If he doesn't come, I won't go with you."
The Pilgrim, from inside Bajie's ear, couldn't help calling out: "Wujing! Old Sun is right here."
The Sha Monk heard and laughed: "So! You idiot, you're dead meat! How could you play a trick on him? Now he's a voice without a body—what are we to do?"
Bajie panicked and knelt in the mud, kowtowing: "Brother, it was my fault! Once we've saved the master and gotten ashore, I'll make my apology. Where are you, that you call out? You scared me to death! Please, show your true self and come out. I'll carry you. I'll never cross you again."
The Pilgrim said: "You'll still be carrying me. I'm not done with you—walk fast! Walk fast!" The idiot mumbled and grumbled, apologizing all the while, picked himself up, and went on with the Sha Monk.
They traveled another hundred li or so and looked up to see a building with a placard: "Mansion of the Water Soft-Shell Turtle."
The Sha Monk said: "This must be the demon's dwelling. We don't know what we're up against—how do we go to the gate and challenge him?"
The Pilgrim said: "Wujing, is there water inside and outside the gate?"
The Sha Monk said: "No water."
The Pilgrim said: "Since there's no water, you hide on one side. Let old Sun go scout." The Great Sage crawled out of Bajie's ear, shook his body, and changed into a long-legged shrimp-wife, hopping two or three times through the gate.
He opened his eyes and looked. The demon sat up above, with water folk of every kind ranged on either side. A speckled-clad mandarin-fish wife sat at his side, and they were all discussing how to eat the Tang monk. The Pilgrim searched carefully on both sides but couldn't find him. Suddenly he saw a big-bellied shrimp-wife walking toward him, heading for the west corridor.
The Pilgrim hopped over and hailed her: "Auntie, the Great King and everyone are talking about eating the Tang monk—where is he?"
The shrimp-wife said: "The Tang monk was frozen in ice by the Great King's snow. Yesterday he was put in a stone chest behind the palace. As soon as his disciples stop making a ruckus tomorrow, they'll play music and enjoy him."
The Pilgrim heard this, worked it out for a moment, and went straight to the rear of the palace. There indeed was a stone chest, like a pig trough in a farmer's shed, or a stone coffin in a human house—about six feet long. He lay on top of it and listened. Sanzang was inside, weeping softly.
The Pilgrim said nothing, but listened closer. The master was gritting his teeth. He groaned and said:
"I lament my life as River-Drifter, fraught with sin; From birth I've been entangled in water's woe. Born from my mother's womb through waves of travail, Bowing to Buddha in the West, I fall into the deep. Before, at the Black Water River, I met with disaster; Now, the ice breaks and my life sinks to the spring. I know not if my disciples can come— Can I yet obtain the true scriptures and return home?"
The Pilgrim couldn't hold back: "Master, don't lament your water woe. The scripture says: Earth is the mother of the five elements, and water is the source of the five elements. Without earth nothing is born; without water nothing grows. Old Sun is here!"
Sanzang heard him: "Disciple! Save me!"
The Pilgrim said: "Keep your heart at ease. Once we've caught the demon, I'll see you delivered." Sanzang said: "Hurry, hurry! Another day in here and I'll suffocate!"
The Pilgrim said: "No worry, no worry! I'm going!" He turned and hopped out, showed his true form outside the gate, and called: "Bajie!"
The idiot and the Sha Monk came near: "Brother, how is it?"
The Pilgrim said: "It's this monster who tricked the master. He's unharmed—the monster has him sealed under a stone chest. You two go challenge him now. Let old Sun get out of the water first. If you can take him, take him; if not, feign defeat and lure him out. I'll be waiting to strike."
The Sha Monk said: "Brother, go ahead with confidence. We'll read his face and act accordingly." The Pilgrim pinched the water-repelling spell, shot out of the waves, and stood on the bank to wait—of that no more.
Now look at Zhu Bajie going to battle. He charged to the gate and called in a fierce voice: "You filthy monster! Bring my master out!"
The little demons inside panicked and ran to report: "Great King, someone outside is demanding the master!" The demon said: "It must be those wretched monks come." He ordered: "Bring my armor and weapon!"
The little demons brought them out at once. The demon suited up, took his weapon in hand, ordered the gates opened, and strode out. Bajie and the Sha Monk stood on either side. Just look at the demon's getup! What a monster!
Golden helm, blazing bright on his head; Golden armor, flashing like a rainbow. At his waist, a precious belt clustered with pearls and jade; On his feet, smoke-yellow boots of curious make. His nose ridge, high and proud as a mountain peak; His brow, broad and vast as a dragon's mien. Eyes flashing, round and fierce; Teeth like steel blades, sharp and even. Short hair flying loose like flames; Long whiskers, proud and free, like golden awls. In his mouth, a sprig of green water-grass; In his hand, a nine-petaled copper hammer. With a creak the gate swings wide— Loud as the spring thunder that wakes the hibernating bugs.
Such a form is rarely seen in the mortal world— Truly worthy of the Great King Inspiration's fearsome majesty.
The demon came out the gate with a hundred-odd little demons, all whirling spears and brandishing swords, forming two ranks. He said to Bajie: "What temple are you a monk of, that you come here shouting?"
Bajie barked: "You undying wretch! The other night you were trading words with me, and today you pretend not to know me? I am a disciple of the holy monk of the Great Tang empire of the Eastern Land, on my way to the Western Heaven to bow before the Buddha and seek the scriptures. You played a trick, called yourself the Great King Inspiration, and went to the Village of Chen demanding to eat boys and girls. I was Chen Qing's daughter One Scale of Gold—don't you recognize me?"
The demon said: "You monk, what nonsense! You turned into One Scale of Gold—that's the crime of impersonation. I never ate you, and you even wounded my hand. I let you off—so why do you come beating on my gate again?"
Bajie said: "If you let me off, why did you raise a cold wind, bring a great snow, freeze the river solid, and harm my master? Hand my master back at once, and all will be well. One word of no—look at my rake, and I'll spare you nothing!"
The demon gave a cold laugh: "This monk, wagging that long tongue and boasting so big. Yes, it was I who made the cold and the snow and froze the river and carried off your master. You come shouting at my gate, wanting him back—but I fear this time won't be like the last. That time, I was on my way to a feast and didn't bring my weapon, and you caught me off guard. Now—don't you run away. Fight me three rounds. If you can stand three rounds, I'll give you back your master. If you can't, I'll eat you too."
Bajie said: "Good son! Just so! Watch the rake!"
The demon said: "You're a monk who left the world halfway."
Bajie said: "My son, you really do have some inspiration—how did you know I left the world halfway?"
The demon said: "You can use a rake—you must have been hired in some garden, planting things, and made off with their rake."
Bajie said: "Son, this rake is not for digging ground. Just look:
Great teeth cast like dragon claws, Wrought of beaten gold, shaped like a python. When it meets an enemy, cold winds spray; When it holds the line, flames spring forth. It serves the holy monk to vanquish monsters, It catches demons on the Western road. When whirled, its smoke-clouds hide sun and moon; When swung, its rosy light shines clear and bright. It fells Mount Tai—a thousand tigers quail; It overturns the sea—ten thousand dragons start. Though you have spirit and skill, One stroke and you'll have nine holes!"
The demon wasn't about to listen. He raised his copper hammer and struck at Bajie's head. Bajie raised his rake and parried: "You wretch—so you're a halfway demon too!"
The demon said: "How do you know I'm a halfway demon?"
Bajie said: "You can use a copper hammer—you must have been hired in some silversmith's shop, pumping the bellows, and made off with a hammer when no one was looking."
The demon said: "This is no silversmith's hammer. Just look:
Nine petals gathered into a flower bud, A single hollow staff, evergreen through ten thousand years. Not like any mortal thing— Its origin bears the name of the fairy garden. Green chambers, purple stamens, aged in the Jade Pool; White substance, pure fragrance, born in the jade pond. I hammered and tempered it with skill, Hard as steel, sharp and keen, imbued with spirit. Spear, sword, halberd, and lance cannot match it; Axe, halberd, spear, and pike dare not withstand it. Even if your rake has a razor edge, Touch my hammer, and your teeth will splinter and fly!"
The Sha Monk, seeing the two of them bandying words, couldn't hold back. He stepped forward and shouted: "You monster, enough of your babble! The ancients said: words are no proof—show your deeds and we shall see. Don't run! Take a stroke of my staff!"
The demon parried with his hammer-shaft and said: "You're a halfway monk too."
The Sha Monk said: "How do you know?"
The demon said: "You look like a miller's apprentice."
The Sha Monk said: "How do I look like a miller's apprentice?"
The demon said: "If you're not a miller's apprentice, how come you use a rolling pin?"
[Translator's note: the demon is mocking the shape of the Sha Monk's precious staff, which resembles a baker's rolling pin.]
The Sha Monk cursed: "You wicked creature, you've never seen anything like it! Such a weapon is rare in the mortal world—no wonder you don't know its name, the Precious Staff.
Born in the moon-palace, in the shadowless place, Carved from the immortal wood of the cassia tree. Studded with jewels on the outside, its light aglow; Lined with gold within, its auspicious breath congealed. In former days it graced the imperial banquet; Today it guards the Tang monk on his righteous quest. On the Western road, no one knows its name; In the halls of Heaven, it's widely renowned. It's called the Demon-Quelling True Precious Staff— One stroke will smash your skull to bits!"
The demon wouldn't hear another word. The three of them fell to it—and what a battle beneath the water!
Copper hammer, precious staff, and iron rake; Wuneng and Wujing fight the demon. One is the Marshal Tian Peng come to the mortal world; One is the Great General descended to the edge of the sky. The two of them flank the water monster, flaunting their might; This one alone withstands two divine monks, his power to praise. By fate and destiny they seek the Great Way; In mutual creation, mutual conquest, they uphold the eternal sands. Earth conquers water; when water dries, the bottom shows. Water begets wood; when wood thrives, flowers bloom. Zen meditation returns all to unity; The elixir refined subdues the three schools. Earth is the mother, sprouting golden buds; Gold breeds the divine water, birthing the infant. Water is the root, nourishing wood's splendor; Wood holds the brilliant fire of the dawn. The five elements gathered, each one different— Hence the three changed faces and strove with all their might. Look at his copper hammer, nine-petaled, bright and fair; The precious staff, thousand-threaded, fine as brocade. The rake divides the Nine Luminaries by yin and yang— Not knowing the moves, all tangle like a skein of hemp.
They gave their lives for the monk's ordeal, Risked death for the sake of Shakyamuni. The copper hammer never rests from its work, Now parrying the staff on the left, now the rake on the right.
The three fought beneath the water for two watches, with no victor. Zhu Bajie, reckoning he couldn't win, gave the Sha Monk a look. The two of them feigned defeat, trailed their weapons, turned, and fled.
The monster called: "Little ones, hold the fort! I'll go catch those wretches and bring them back for you to eat!"
Like wind sweeping fallen leaves, like rain battering faded flowers, he chased the two of them up out of the water.
The Great Sage Sun stood on the east bank, his eyes fixed unblinking on the river. Suddenly the waves surged and boiled, with shouts and howls. Bajie leapt onto the bank first: "Here he comes! Here he comes!" The Sha Monk also reached the bank: "Here he comes! Here he comes!" The demon followed, shouting: "Where are you going?" The moment his head broke the surface, the Pilgrim shouted: "Take this!" and brought his cudgel down. The demon dodged, and raised his copper hammer to parry.
One surged on the riverbank; the other flaunted his might on the shore. They had barely exchanged three blows when the demon couldn't hold. He feinted, dove back into the water, and the wind and waves went still.
The Pilgrim returned to the high cliff: "Brothers, you've worked hard."
The Sha Monk said: "Brother, this demon is weak on the bank but fierce enough under the water. Second Brother and I attacked from both sides, and still only fought to a draw. How do we save the master?"
The Pilgrim said: "No time to hesitate—I fear for the master's life."
Bajie said: "Brother, let me go in and lure him out. You keep quiet, but wait in midair. When his head pops out, give him a garlic-pounding blow—right on the crown of his head, good and solid! Even if it doesn't kill him, he'll be seeing stars. Then old Pig will rush up and give him a rake, and that'll be the end of him!"
The Pilgrim said: "Exactly! Exactly! This is called 'inner and outer joining forces'—that's how we'll get it done." The two of them went back into the water—of that no more.
Now the demon, having fled the battle, returned to his mansion. The water demons welcomed him into the palace. the mandarin-fish wife came forward and asked: "Great King, did you catch those two monks?"
The demon said: "Those monks had another helper. The two of them leapt onto the bank, and the helper swung an iron rod at me. I dodged and fought him. I don't know how many catties that cudgel of his weighs—my copper hammer couldn't begin to parry it. We hadn't fought three rounds before I came back defeated."
The mandarin-fish wife said: "Great King, do you remember what the helper looked like?"
The demon said: "A hairy-faced, Thunder-Duke-snouted monk, with protruding ears, a broken nose-bridge, and fiery golden eyes."
The mandarin-fish wife heard this and gave a shudder: "Great King! Thank Heaven you had the sense to flee with your life! If you'd fought three more rounds, you'd never have come back whole! I know that monk."
The demon said: "Who is he?"
The mandarin-fish wife said: "In years past, in the Eastern Ocean, I heard the old Dragon King speak of his reputation. He is none other than the one who made havoc in the Heavenly Palace five hundred years ago—the High Immortal of the Great Monad of Primal Unity, the Handsome Monkey King, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. He has since taken refuge with the Buddha and guards the Tang monk on his way to the Western Heaven for scriptures. He's been renamed Sun Wukong the Pilgrim. His magic is vast, his transformations beyond counting. Great King, why did you ever provoke him? Never fight him again."
Hardly had she finished when a little demon came to report: "Great King, those two monks are at the gate again, demanding battle!"
The demon said: "Worthy sister, your counsel is sound—I won't go out. Let's see what they do." He issued the order: "Little ones, shut the gates tight! Let him shout all he wants outside—just don't open. Let him wear himself out for two days, and when he's tired and gone, we'll enjoy the Tang monk at our ease."
The little demons all hauled stones and packed mud, sealing the gate shut. Bajie and the Sha Monk shouted and called, but got no answer. The idiot grew impatient and started raking at the gate. But the gates were already barred and locked—no use. He raked the door panels open in seven or eight strokes, only to find a wall of mud and stone, piled a thousand layers thick behind.
The Sha Monk said: "Second Brother, this monster is terrified—he's sealed himself in and won't come out. Let's go back to the bank and talk it over with Eldest Brother."
Bajie agreed and headed back to the east bank.
The Pilgrim, half in cloud and half in mist, was waiting with his cudgel raised. Seeing the two of them come up without the demon, he brought down his cloud and met them at the bank: "Brothers, why didn't the fellow come up?"
The Sha Monk said: "The monster has shut his gates tight and won't show his face. Second Brother broke down the door panels, but behind them was a solid wall of mud and stone, piled a thousand layers thick. So we couldn't fight, and came to plan with you, Brother, how to save the master."
The Pilgrim said: "In that case, there's nothing for it. You two stay on the bank and keep watch—don't let him go somewhere else. Let me go."
Bajie said: "Brother, where are you going?"
The Pilgrim said: "I'm going to Mount Potalaka to ask the Bodhisattva. I'll find out where this monster comes from, his name and surname. I'll track down his old home, seize his family, arrest his neighbors, and then come back and catch the demon and save the master."
Bajie laughed: "Brother, that's a lot of trouble. It'll take time."
The Pilgrim said: "Never mind trouble or time for you! I'll go and come back!"
The Great Sage sprang up on his auspicious light, left the river mouth behind, and made for the Southern Sea. In less than half a watch, he sighted Mount Potalaka. He brought down his cloud and landed on the cliff of Potaraka.
The twenty-four orders of the Heavenly Guardians, the Mountain-Guarding Great Spirit, the Pilgrim Muzha, the Boy of Wealth, and the Pearl-Bearing Dragon Girl all came forward and bowed: "Where does the Great Sage come from?"
The Pilgrim said: "I have business with the Bodhisattva."
The spirits said: "The Bodhisattva left the cave this morning and would let no one follow. She went alone into the bamboo grove to admire the scenery. She knew the Great Sage would come today and told us to wait here and receive you. She said not to let anyone go in to see her just yet. Please sit for a moment by the Emerald Rock. When the Bodhisattva comes out, she will have her reasons."
The Pilgrim agreed. He had barely sat down when the Boy of Wealth came forward and bowed: "Great Sage Sun, I am grateful for your former kindness. The Bodhisattva did not cast me off but took me in. Morning and night I never leave her side, attending at her lotus seat, and I have found great goodness and mercy."
The Pilgrim knew this was the Red Boy. He laughed: "In those days you were lost in the karma of demons. Now that you've attained the true fruit, you know that old Sun is a good man."
The Pilgrim waited a long time but the Bodhisattva didn't come. He grew impatient: "Would someone convey a report for me? If we're late, I fear for my master's life."
The Guardians said: "We dare not report. The Bodhisattva said to wait until she comes out herself."
The Pilgrim, being impatient, could wait no longer. He sprang up and strode right in. Ah! This Handsome Monkey King, impatient and sharp-tongued! The Guardians couldn't stop him. He pushed into the deep grove and opened his eyes to peer. From afar he saw the Suffering-Reliever seated on a mat of torn bamboo leaves:
Idle and loose, she hadn't dressed her hair; Her face, though, was most graceful. A loose tangle of silk-black hair, no jeweled tassels pinned. No blue silk robe—just a close-fitting short jacket. An embroidered skirt wrapped loosely at her waist; Her feet were bare and free. No embroidered sash over her shoulders— Both arms bare to the elbow. In her jade hand she held a steel knife, Stripping bamboo bark.
The Pilgrim saw this and couldn't help calling out: "Bodhisattva, your disciple Sun Wukong bows with sincere heart."
The Bodhisattva said: "Wait outside."
The Pilgrim kowtowed: "Bodhisattva, my master is in peril. I have come to ask about the origins of the demon of the Heaven-Reaching River."
The Bodhisattva said: "Go out. Wait for me."
The Pilgrim dared not insist. He walked out of the grove and said to the assembled Guardians: "The Bodhisattva is doing housework today—no lotus seat, no dress-up, no pleasure. What's she doing in the grove, stripping bamboo?"
The Guardians said: "We don't know. This morning she came out of the cave without dressing, went into the grove, and told us to wait for the Great Sage. It must be something to do with the Great Sage's business."
The Pilgrim had no choice but to wait. Presently the Bodhisattva came out of the grove, carrying a purple bamboo basket. "Wukong," she said, "I'll go save the Tang monk with you."
The Pilgrim hastily knelt: "Your disciple wouldn't presume to rush you. Please, Bodhisattva, dress and take your seat."
The Bodhisattva said: "No need to dress. Let's go." Leaving the Guardians behind, she rose on an auspicious cloud and soared into the sky. The Great Sage Sun had no choice but to follow.
In an instant they reached the Heaven-Reaching River. Bajie and the Sha Monk saw her and said: "Brother is so impatient, we don't know how he carried on at the Southern Sea—he's dragged the Bodhisattva here before she could even dress!"
Before the words were done, they were at the riverbank. The two of them bowed: "Bodhisattva, we have presumed and offended. We are guilty! We are guilty!"
The Bodhisattva untied a silk sash from her waist, fastened it to the basket, held the sash, trod half on a cloud, and tossed the basket into the river. She pulled it upstream, reciting a verse: "The dead depart, the living stay. The dead depart, the living stay." She recited it seven times, then lifted the basket. Inside, a bright golden fish lay flashing its eyes and flexing its scales.
The Bodhisattva called: "Wukong, go down into the water quickly and save your master."
The Pilgrim said: "We haven't caught the demon—how can I save the master?"
The Bodhisattva said: "Isn't he in the basket?"
Bajie and the Sha Monk bowed and asked: "How does this little fish have such power?"
The Bodhisattva said: "He is a goldfish I raised in my lotus pond. Every day he stuck his head above water to listen to the scriptures, and so cultivated his powers. That nine-petaled copper hammer of his was an unopened lotus bud, which he refined into a weapon. On some day or other, the tide surged and he came here. This morning I leaned on the railing to admire the flowers and saw that this wretch didn't come out to pay his respects. I divined with my fingers, traced the signs, and calculated that he was here making trouble and harming your master. That's why I didn't even take time to dress—I wove a bamboo basket with my divine power and came to catch him."
The Pilgrim said: "Bodhisattva, since it is so, let us wait a moment. We'll call the faithful of the Village of Chen to see the Bodhisattva's golden face—first, to leave a blessing, and second, to tell them how the demon was caught, so the common folk will believe and revere."
The Bodhisattva said: "Very well—go call them quickly."
Bajie and the Sha Monk ran to the village and shouted: "Come see the living Guanyin Bodhisattva! Come see the living Guanyin Bodhisattva!" The whole village—old and young, men and women—rushed to the riverbank. They waded into the mud and water without a thought, knelt, and kowtowed. Among them were those skilled at painting, who made an image of her—this is the Fish Basket Guanyin made manifest. Then the Bodhisattva returned to the Southern Sea.
Bajie and the Sha Monk parted the water, went straight to the Mansion of the Water Soft-Shell Turtle, and looked for the master. Inside, the water monsters and fish spirits were all dead and rotting. They went to the rear palace, lifted the stone chest, and carried the Tang monk out of the water, to the bank, where everyone gathered.
Chen Qing and his brother kowtowed and gave thanks: "My lord, you didn't take our advice to stay—and so you suffered so."
The Pilgrim said: "Enough said. From next year, your households need no more sacrifices—the Great King has been rooted out, and there will be no more harm. Old Chen, now I need your help. Quickly find a boat to ferry us across the river."
Chen Qing said: "We have one! We have one!" He ordered planks cut and a boat built. The villagers heard this and all joyfully contributed. One said he'd buy a mast and sail; another said he'd provide poles and oars; one said he'd bring rope; another said he'd hire boatmen.
They were all clamoring on the riverbank when a voice called from mid-river: "Great Sage Sun, don't build a boat and waste people's goods. I'll ferry you and your master across."
Everyone who heard this was startled. The timid went home; the brave stood trembling, watching. In a moment, a creature emerged from the water. What did he look like?
Square head—a divine thing, no common breed. Nine ribs, a numinous mechanism, called the Water Immortal. Dragging his tail, he may live a thousand ages; Hiding his body, he stills in the depths of a hundred rivers. Churning waves, leaping billows, he strikes the riverbank; Facing the sun, greeting the wind, he lies by the sea. Nourishing his breath, holding his spirit—truly one of the Way. A great white-shelled, scab-headed soft-shell turtle of many years.
The old turtle called again: "Great Sage, don't build a boat. I'll ferry you and your master across."
The Pilgrim raised his iron cudgel: "You wretched beast! If you come close, one stroke of this will kill you!"
The old turtle said: "I am grateful for the Great Sage's kindness. I am willing to ferry you and your master with a good heart—why would you strike me?"
The Pilgrim said: "What kindness do I owe you?"
The old turtle said: "Great Sage, you don't know. This Mansion of the Water Soft-Shell Turtle down below has been my home. It has been passed down through generations, from my ancestors to me. I awoke to my original nature, cultivated my spirit, and practiced the Way here. I renovated the old family dwelling and made it into the Mansion of the Water Soft-Shell Turtle. That demon came nine years ago, when the sea surged and the waves overturned—he rode the tide here and, fierce and savage, fought with me. He killed many of my children and seized many of my kin. I couldn't beat him, and he took my home for nothing. Today, by the Great Sage's grace, the Tang master has been saved, the Bodhisattva Guanyin has been invited to sweep the demons clean, the monster has been taken, and my mansion returned to me. Now my family is reunited, and we no longer have to wallow in mud and earth. I have my old home back. This kindness is heavy as mountains, deep as the sea. And it's not only us who've benefited—this whole village is spared the yearly sacrifice, and who knows how many children's lives have been saved. Truly, one act, two blessings! How could I not repay it?"
The Pilgrim heard this and was secretly pleased. He lowered his cudgel: "Is this the truth?"
The old turtle said: "The Great Sage's grace is vast and deep—how dare I lie?"
The Pilgrim said: "If it's the truth, swear an oath to Heaven."
The old turtle opened his red mouth and swore to Heaven: "If I do not truly ferry the Tang monk across this Heaven-Reaching River, may my body turn to blood and water!"
The Pilgrim laughed: "Come up! Come up!" The old turtle came near the bank, sprang up, and climbed onto the river cliff.
Everyone came close to look: a great white shell, four zhang around.
The Pilgrim said: "Master, we'll ride on his back and cross."
Sanzang said: "Disciple, that thick ice was trouble enough—and this turtle's back may not be stable."
The old turtle said: "Master, rest easy. Compared to that thick ice, I'm far steadier. I won't tilt—not for anything!"
The Pilgrim said: "Master, any creature that can speak human speech will never tell a lie." He called: "Brothers, bring the horse."
At the riverbank, the old and young of the Village of Chen all came to see them off and bow.
The Pilgrim had the horse led onto the white turtle's shell. He invited the Tang monk to stand at the horse's neck on the left, the Sha Monk on the right, Bajie behind the horse, and the Pilgrim in front. Still fearing the turtle might misbehave, he took off his tiger-sinew sash, threaded it through the old turtle's nose like a rein, set one foot on the shell and one on the turtle's head, gripped the iron cudgel in one hand and held the rein in the other, and called: "Old turtle, walk slowly now! One tilt, and it's a stroke on the head!"
The old turtle said: "I wouldn't dare! I wouldn't dare!"
He spread his four feet and trod the water's surface as though walking on flat ground. The crowd on the bank burned incense and kowtowed, all chanting "Namo Amitabha Buddha." Truly, a living arhat descended to the mortal world, a living Bodhisattva made manifest. The people bowed until they could no longer see the travelers' shapes, and only then returned—of that no more.
Now the master, riding the white turtle, crossed the eight-hundred-li Heaven-Reaching River in less than a day, and stepped ashore high and dry.
Sanzang climbed the cliff, pressed his palms together, and thanked the turtle: "Old turtle, I have troubled you. I have nothing to give you. When I have obtained the scriptures, I will thank you on my return."
The old turtle said: "I need no thanks, Master. I have heard that the Buddha in the Western Heaven is unborn and undying, and can know the past and the future. I have been practicing here for over thirteen hundred years. Though my life is long and my body light, and I can speak human speech, I still cannot shed this shell of mine. I beg you, when you reach the Western Heaven, to ask the Buddha one question for me: when will I be able to shed this shell and take a human body?"
Sanzang promised: "I will ask. I will ask." The old turtle dove into the water and was gone.
The Pilgrim then helped Sanzang mount the horse. Bajie shouldered the luggage, the Sha Monk walked at his side, and master and disciples found the high road and pressed ever westward. Truly:
The holy monk, by decree, goes to bow before Amitabha; Over waters far and mountains distant, many a woe. His will is firm, his heart sincere, fearing not death— A white turtle ferries him across the Heaven-Reaching River.
But what lay beyond on the road ahead, what perils and what fortune—listen to the explanation in the next chapter.