The story tells how the Great Sage Sun, following the eunuch attendant, entered the inner courts of the imperial palace and came to a halt outside the doors of the bedchamber. He handed the three golden threads to the eunuch to take inside, with instructions: "Have one of the ladies of the palace, or one of the attendant eunuchs, first tie them about His Majesty's left wrist, on the three pulse positions of the inch, the bar, and the cubit; then pass the loose ends of the threads out to me through a crack in the window lattice."
The eunuch did exactly as he was told. He seated the king on his dragon couch, tied one end of the golden threads over the three pulse positions, and ran the other ends out the window. The Pilgrim took the threads, and first, using the thumb of his right hand to steady his index finger, he felt the inch pulse; then he pressed his middle finger over his thumb and felt the bar pulse; then he held his thumb against his ring finger and felt the cubit pulse. He regulated his own breathing, and distinguished the four humors and five stagnations, the seven superficial and eight deep conditions, and the nine positions, weighing the floating against the sinking and the sinking against the floating, until he had made clear the true and the false. Then he had the threads untied from the left wrist and fastened in the same way to the right.
The Pilgrim pressed his left hand to the threads and examined them one by one from beginning to end. Then he gave himself a shake, gathered the golden threads back into himself, and called out in a loud voice: "Your Majesty's left-inch pulse is strong and tight, the bar pulse rough and slow, the cubit pulse hollow and deep; the right-inch pulse is floating and slippery, the bar pulse slow and knotted, and the cubit pulse rapid and firm. A strong and tight left-inch pulse means a vacuous heart and pain in the chest; a rough and slow bar pulse means sweating and numbness of the flesh; a hollow and deep cubit pulse means dark urine and blood in the stool. A floating and slippery right-inch pulse means internal congestion and stoppage of the menses; a slow and knotted bar pulse means food and drink that remain lodged; a rapid and firm cubit pulse means vexation, fullness, and the struggle of chill and vacuity together. By this examination, this honored ailment of yours is one brought on by fright, anxiety, worry, and longing—a case that I call 'the pair of birds parted from their flock.'"
When the king within heard this he was overjoyed, and rousing his spirits he answered in a loud voice: "Clear at the fingertips! Clear at the fingertips! That is exactly my illness! Pray go out and prepare the medicine!" Only then did the Great Sage stroll out of the palace. The eunuchs who had overheard at the side had already hurried ahead to report the matter to the crowd.
In a little while the Pilgrim emerged, and Tang Sanzang at once asked how it had gone. "I have taken the pulse," said the Pilgrim, "and now I must compound the medicine to fit the ailment."
The officials came up and said, "Holy Monk Master Sun, just now you spoke of 'the pair of birds parted from their flock.' What does that mean?"
"Suppose there are two birds, a male and a female," laughed the Pilgrim, "that used to fly together. All at once a violent wind and a drenching rain startle them apart; the female cannot see the male, and the male cannot see the female. The female longs for the male, and the male longs for the female—isn't that 'a pair of birds parted from their flock'?"
When the officials heard this, they all shouted in admiration: "A true holy monk! A true divine physician!" and praised him without end. Among them a physician of the Imperial College asked, "The nature of the illness has now been made out, but may we know what drugs are to be used to cure it?"
"There's no need to fix on any prescription," said the Pilgrim. "Just let me see whatever drugs there are, and I'll take them."
"According to the classics," said the medical officer, "there are eight hundred and eight flavors of drugs and four hundred and four ailments of mankind. One ailment does not reside in a single body, and how could any one prescription make use of every drug? Why must you see them all before taking them?"
"As the ancients said," replied the Pilgrim, "'Drugs are not bound to any fixed prescription; use whatever fits the case.' For this reason I want to survey the full range of drugs, that I may add and subtract as need arises."
The medical officer said no more, but went out through the court gate and ordered the officers on duty of his own college to make known throughout the whole city to all the drug shops, both the crude and the prepared, that every drug was to be supplied in three catties apiece and delivered to the Pilgrim.
"This is not the place for preparing medicines," said the Pilgrim. "Have all the drugs, together with every vessel and implement for compounding, carried to the Hostel for Tribute Envoys and delivered into the keeping of my two junior brothers."
The medical officer obeyed, and sent the eight hundred and eight flavors at three catties apiece, with drug-mills, drug-grinders, drug-sieves, drug-mortars, and their pestles, all to the hostel, where everything was received and put away in due order.
The Pilgrim then went back to the hall to invite his master to come to the hostel with him to compound the medicines. But as the elder was rising to his feet, a decree came out of the inner palace commanding that the Dharma Preceptor be detained and lodged overnight in the Hall of Literary Culture, and that after the medicine had been taken on the morrow and the illness cured, thanks should be rendered, the documents exchanged, and the party sent on its way.
Greatly alarmed, Sanzang said, "Disciples, this is a plot to keep me as a hostage! If the medicine works, he'll be pleased and send us off; but if it fails, my life is as good as lost. You must be very careful and conscientious, and make the medicine with perfect devotion!"
"Master, rest easy here and enjoy yourself," laughed the Pilgrim. "Old Sun has in his own hand the skill to heal a kingdom."
The Great Sage took leave of Sanzang and of all the ministers, and went straight back to the hostel. Bajie met him with a grin. "Elder brother, I've got your number," he said.
"Got my number how?" asked the Pilgrim.
"I know," said Bajie. "Your scripture quest was never going to come to anything, and you had no capital to set up in business, so now that you've seen how rich this place is, you're scheming to open a drug store!"
"Stop your nonsense!" scolded the Pilgrim. "When I've cured the king, I'll take my leave of court in triumph and be on my way. What would I want with a drug store!"
"Well then," said Bajie, "here are eight hundred and eight flavors at three catties apiece, two thousand four hundred and twenty-four catties in all, and all to cure a single man. How much can he possibly use? At this rate he wouldn't eat through the lot in heaven knows how many ages!"
"What need for so much?" said the Pilgrim. "Those medical officers of his are a pack of blind fools. I had them bring all these drugs so that they wouldn't know where to turn, not knowing which few I would actually use—and could never guess my wondrous prescription."
Just then the two superintendents of the hostel came and knelt before him. "We invite the Holy Monk Master Sun to take his evening meal," they said.
"This morning you treated me shabbily," said the Pilgrim, "and now you kneel to invite me. Why the change?"
The superintendents kowtowed. "When the reverend lord arrived, we petty officials had eyes but could not see, and knew not your honored countenance. But now we have heard how the reverend lord will exercise the art of one who has thrice broken his arm to cure the sovereign of our whole state. If His Majesty recovers, the reverend lord will have a share of the realm, and we shall be his liegemen. It is fitting that we should kneel and invite you."
At these words the Pilgrim, well pleased, went up and seated himself at the head of the table, while Bajie and the Sha Monk took their seats to right and left, and the meal was set out.
"Elder brother," asked the Sha Monk, "where is the master?"
"The master is being kept by the king as a hostage," laughed the Pilgrim. "It's only when the illness is cured that he will give thanks and send us off."
"And is he being well treated?" asked the Sha Monk.
"How could the king's guest be badly treated?" said the Pilgrim. "When I left, he already had three grand councilors waiting on him, and they were leading him into the Hall of Literary Culture."
"In that case," said Bajie, "the master's doing better than we are. He has grand councilors to wait on him, while we have to make do with two hostel superintendents. But never mind them—let old Pig eat his fill!" And the brothers set to and enjoyed themselves as they pleased.
When evening came, the Pilgrim called to the superintendents, "Clear away the table, and provide us with plenty of oil and candles, for we can only prepare the medicine when the night is quiet." The superintendents indeed sent over a good supply of oil and candles, and then dismissed all the staff. At midnight the streets of the capital were still, and not a sound was to be heard on any side.
"Elder brother," said Bajie, "what medicine are we to make? Get on with it. I'm sleepy."
"Fetch me an ounce of rhubarb," said the Pilgrim, "and grind it to a fine powder."
"But rhubarb is bitter to the taste," put in the Sha Monk, "cold in nature and without poison. Its action sinks and does not float; it moves and does not stay. It sweeps away all obstructions without blockage, and quells disorders to bring about peace—for which reason it is called the General. But this is a purgative drug, and since His Majesty has been weak from a long illness, I fear it cannot be used."
"Little brother, you don't understand," laughed the Pilgrim. "This drug loosens phlegm and smooths the vital breath, and flushes out the congealed chills and heats lodged in the stomach. Don't worry yourself about me. Go and get an ounce of croton seeds, shell them, strip off the skins, pound out the oil and poison, and grind them to a fine powder."
"Croton seeds are pungent," said Bajie, "hot in nature, and poisonous. They carve through hard accumulations, scour out the deep chills of the viscera, open what is blocked, and ease the passage of water and grain—the general who breaks the gates and storms the barriers. They cannot be used lightly!"
"Little brother, you don't understand either," said the Pilgrim. "This drug breaks up congestions and opens the bowels, and can put to rights the swelling of the heart and the puffing of the belly. Make it ready quickly, for I have still other adjuvants and guides to pair with it."
The two of them at once ground both drugs fine and asked, "Elder brother, how many dozens of the other flavors do you want?"
"None of them," said the Pilgrim.
"Eight hundred and eight flavors at three catties apiece, and we use only these two ounces!" said Bajie. "You're certainly having your fun with a body."
The Pilgrim took a flowered porcelain cup and said, "Say no more, junior brother. Take this cup and scrape me half a cup of the soot from the bottom of the cooking pot."
"What do you want that for?" asked Bajie.
"The medicine needs it," said the Pilgrim.
"I've never heard of using pot soot in a medicine," said the Sha Monk.
"Pot soot is called 'the frost of a hundred grasses,'" said the Pilgrim, "and it can harmonize all the hundred ailments. You wouldn't know that."
The blockhead truly scraped half a cup of it and ground it fine. Then the Pilgrim handed him the cup again. "Go," he said, "and fetch me half a cup of our horse's urine."
"What do you want that for?" asked Bajie.
"To roll the pills," said the Pilgrim.
"Elder brother," laughed the Sha Monk, "this is no joking matter. Horse urine is fishy and rank—how can it go into a medicine? I've seen pills rolled with vinegar paste, with old rice paste, with boiled honey, or simply with clear water, but never in my life have I seen pills rolled with horse urine! That stuff is stinking and foul; a man with a weak spleen would retch at one whiff. And if he then takes croton and rhubarb on top of it, you'd have him puking above and shitting below. Is that any way to go on?"
"You don't know the secret of it," said the Pilgrim. "That horse of ours is no common horse. He was originally a dragon of the Western Sea. If he can be persuaded to urinate, then whatever illness a man may have, a dose of it will cure him—but the trouble is, you can't get it in a hurry."
Hearing this, Bajie went off to the horse. The horse was lying slantwise on the ground, asleep. The blockhead kicked him to his feet, then crouched under his belly and waited a long while, but not a drop of urine came.
He ran back and said to the Pilgrim, "Brother, never mind curing the emperor—hurry up and cure the horse instead! That dead creature has dried himself up completely; don't expect a single drop to come out of him!"
"I'll go with you," laughed the Pilgrim.
"I'll come and have a look too," said the Sha Monk.
The three of them went to the horse together, and the horse jumped to his feet and spoke in human tongue. "Elder brother," he cried in a loud voice, "don't you know? I was originally the Flying Dragon of the Western Sea. Because I violated the laws of Heaven, the Bodhisattva Guanyin saved me, sawed off my horns, stripped away my scales, and turned me into a horse to carry the master to the Western Heaven in quest of the scriptures, that I might atone for my crimes with merit. If I passed water in a river, the fish that drank of it would turn into dragons; if I passed water on a mountain, the grass that tasted of it would change into magic fungus, which the immortal boys would pluck to lengthen their years. How could I be willing to cast it away lightly in this dusty, common place?"
"Say no more of that, brother," said the Pilgrim. "This is the capital of a king of the Western Regions, no dusty, common place, and no light matter either. As the proverb says, 'many fleeces make a coat.' We must cure the king of this country. If we can make him well, we'll all come off in glory; if not, I fear we may not get safely away from here."
Only then did the horse cry, "Wait, then!" See him: he lunged forward once, squatted back once, gnashed his teeth until they grated and rang, and with great straining squeezed out a few drops, then straightened himself up.
"This dead creature!" said Bajie. "Even if it's liquid gold, you could spare a little more!"
But the Pilgrim saw there was nearly half a cupful. "Enough! Enough!" he said. "Take it away!" Only then was the Sha Monk satisfied.
The three of them went back to the hall, stirred all the drugs together, and kneaded them into three great pills.
"Junior brothers," said the Pilgrim, "they're too big."
"They're no bigger than walnuts," said Bajie. "And if it were a matter of me eating them, one wouldn't be enough to fill my mouth!" So they put the pills away in a small box, and the brothers lay down to sleep in their clothes. That night passed without event.
At dawn, the king, though still languishing from his illness, held court and received Tang Sanzang, and at once commanded the officials to hurry to the Hostel for Tribute Envoys to pay their respects to the Holy Monk Master Sun and fetch the medicine.
The host of officials followed one another to the hostel, prostrated themselves before the Pilgrim, and said, "Our sovereign has specially commanded us, his ministers, to come and receive the wondrous remedy."
The Pilgrim told Bajie to fetch the box, opened the lid, and handed it to the officials.
The officials asked, "What is the name of this medicine, that we may answer the king's questions?"
"It is called the Black-Gold Pill," said the Pilgrim.
Bajie and the Sha Monk laughed up their sleeves. "Rolled in pot soot, and they call it 'black gold'!" they whispered.
"And what are the ingredients for taking it?" asked the officials.
"Two kinds of adjuvants may be used," said the Pilgrim. "One of them is easy to obtain: brew the following six things into a soup to wash the pills down."
"What are the six things?" asked the officials.
"The fart of a crow flying in mid-heaven," said the Pilgrim, "the urine of a carp swimming against the current, the face powder of Queen Mother of the West, the ashes of the cinnabar in Lord Lao Zi's furnace, three strips from the battered head-cloth of the Jade Emperor, and five lengths of the beard of a dragon in distress.
Brew the six things into a soup for the pills, And your king's long illness will be cured in an hour.
"That list of ingredients does not exist in the world!" said the officials. "And what is the other kind of adjuvant?"
"Take the pills with rootless water," said the Pilgrim.
"That's easy to get!" laughed the officials.
"How do you make that out?" asked the Pilgrim.
"The common saying in our parts," said the officials, "is that to use rootless water you take a bowl, go to the well or down to the river, dip up the water, and turn straight around—letting it touch no ground and looking back at nothing—and carry it home for the patient to drink."
"But water from wells and rivers has roots," said the Pilgrim. "That's not what I mean by rootless water. The water I mean is that which falls from heaven—water that is drunk without ever touching the ground. Only that may be called rootless water."
"That's easy enough too," said the officials. "We'll just wait for a cloudy day and a rainstorm, and have the king take the pills then." And with bows of thanks to the Pilgrim, they carried the medicine back and presented it.
The king was overjoyed and at once ordered his close attendants to receive it. Looking at the pills he asked, "What sort of pellets are these?"
"The Holy Monk calls them the Black-Gold Pill," said the officials, "to be taken with rootless water."
The king bade the palace ladies fetch rootless water, but the officials said, "The Holy Monk says rootless water is not from wells or rivers, but water that falls from heaven and touches no ground." So the king summoned the officer in charge of the imperial equipage and commanded that a decree be issued for the Daoist masters to pray for rain.
The officials obeyed and posted the announcement, of which we say no more.
Now the Pilgrim, in the hall of the Hostel for Tribute Envoys, called out to Zhu Bajie, "Just now I promised him rain from heaven before the medicine could be taken. But where are we to get rain in such a hurry? I think this king is after all a sovereign of great worth and virtue, so how would it be if we helped him out with a little rain for his medicine?"
"How can you help?" asked Bajie.
"You stand at my left," said the Pilgrim, "and act as my supporting star." Then he called to the Sha Monk, "And you stand at my right as my assistant constellation, while old Sun helps him with a little rootless water."
Truly a Great Sage! He paced out the Dipper pattern, recited the spell, and soon there appeared due east a black cloud that drifted gradually until it hung directly over their heads. A voice cried, "Great Sage, Ao Guang, the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea, has come to see you."
"I wouldn't presume to trouble you for nothing," said the Pilgrim. "I have asked you here to help the king with a little rootless water for his medicine."
"When the Great Sage summoned me," said the Dragon King, "no mention was made of water, and so your little dragon has come in person, without his rain-making instruments, and without wind or cloud, thunder or lightning. How am I to bring rain?"
"We have no need of wind, cloud, thunder, or lightning at the moment," said the Pilgrim, "nor do we want much rain—only a little water to serve as an ingredient for the medicine."
"In that case," said the Dragon King, "let me sneeze a couple of times and spit out some spittle and phlegm for him to take with his medicine."
"Splendid! Splendid!" cried the Pilgrim, delighted. "Don't hesitate, but set to work at once." The old dragon, aloft in the air, lowered his black cloud gradually until it hung directly above the imperial palace, then hid his form and his presence, and spurted out a mouthful of spittle and saliva, which turned into a sweet rain.
All the officials in court shouted in unison, "A thousand congratulations to our sovereign lord! Heaven has sent down sweet rain!"
The king at once decreed: "Fetch vessels to catch it! Let everyone, inside the palace and out, high official and low, fill vessels and jars with this immortal water to save your sovereign." See those civil and military officials, and the ladies of the three palaces and six courts, with their three thousand painted girls and eight hundred slender beauties, each lifting cups and holding bowls, raising platters and gripping dishes to catch the sweet rain. The old dragon, wheeling about in mid-air, churned up his spittle and phlegm, keeping close over the palace fore and aft, for nearly two hours, until he took his leave of the Great Sage and returned to the sea.
The officials gathered in their cups and bowls and platters. Some had caught a drop or two, some three or four, and some not a single drop at all; but when all was gathered together there was about three cups full, and it was presented in its entirety upon the imperial table. Truly the rare fragrance filled the Golden Phoenix Hall, and a fine savor drifted through the Son of Heaven's court!
The king took leave of the Dharma Preceptor and carried the Black-Gold Pills and the sweet rain into the palace. First he swallowed one pill and drank a cup of the sweet rain; then he swallowed another pill and drank another cup of the rain; and the third time he swallowed all three pills and washed them down with all three cups of rain. Before long his belly began to rumble with a noise like a water-wheel, without pause. He called for the close-stool and emptied himself three or four times running, then drank some rice gruel and lay back limply on his dragon couch.
Two of his consorts examined the close-stool—the filth and phlegm that came from him is past all telling, and in the midst of it there was a clump of sticky rice.
The consorts came to the side of the dragon couch to report: "The root of the illness has all come down!"
The king was delighted at this news and took another bowl of rice. In a short while his chest felt wide and at ease, his breath and blood moved in harmony, and his spirits revived with new strength in his limbs. He rose from the dragon couch, put on his court robes, went up onto the jeweled hall, and saw Tang Sanzang, before whom he prostrated himself at once. The elder hurriedly returned the courtesy.
When the kowtows were done, the king supported him with his imperial hand and commanded his grand councilors, "Make ready quickly an invitation card. On it write that I bow twice and knock my head in reverence, and dispatch an officer to invite in due form the three worthy disciples of the Dharma Preceptor. And on the other side, open wide the eastern pavilion and have the Court of Imperial Feasts lay out a banquet of thanks."
The officials received the command; some made ready the card, some prepared the banquet, and since the power of a state can move mountains, all was accomplished in a moment.
When Bajie saw the officer arriving with the invitation, he was beside himself with joy. "Brother," he said, "this is indeed a wondrous medicine! Now they're coming to thank us, and the credit is all yours, elder brother."
"Now, second brother," said the Sha Monk, "what are you saying! As the saying goes, 'when one man is blessed, the whole house is lifted along.' We all had a hand in compounding the medicine here, and we are all meritorious persons. Just go and enjoy yourself, and don't say another word about it." Ho! See the brothers, all joy and smiles, going straight into court. The officials received them and led them up into the eastern pavilion, where they saw that Tang Sanzang, the king, and the grand councilors were all already there with the feast laid out.
The Pilgrim, Bajie, and the Sha Monk made an obeisance to their master, and then all the officials came in. There on the upper dais were four vegetarian tables, each set with dishes to be looked at as well as eaten at a ratio of ten to one; before them was one table of meat, likewise spread with rare delicacies in the ratio of ten to one. Around the sides were set four or five hundred single tables, and truly everything was ranged in perfect order. As the ancients said: "a hundred rare flavors and a thousand goblets of good wine." There were dainties of curds and creams, and crimson meats braided in fine strips. Precious ornaments flashed with the colors of flowers, and fruits were sweet and full of fragrance. Sugar sculptures of dragons coiled around lions and immortals; molded pastries and baked cakes were arrayed in pairs of phoenixes. For meat there were pigs and sheep, chickens, geese, fish, and ducks—every kind of flesh; for the vegetarian board, greens and shoots, bamboo tips, wood ears, and mushrooms. There were several kinds of fragrant soup and noodles, and sundry dishes of crisp toffee. Soft and smooth was the yellow-millet rice, fresh and clear the barley-milk porridge. Every soup was savory and hot and pungent, and every course that was brought round was fine and sweet. The sovereign and his ministers raised their cups and took their seats; rank by rank, in proper order, the wine jugs made their rounds.
The king, holding up a cup with his own imperial hand, first pressed it upon Tang Sanzang. "This humble monk does not drink wine," said Sanzang.
"This is vegetarian wine," said the king. "Drink this one cup, Your Reverence, and how would that be?"
"Wine is the very first prohibition of the monk," said Sanzang.
The king was at a loss. "If Your Reverence abstains from wine," he said, "with what shall we do honor to you?"
"Let my three unruly disciples drink it for me," said Sanzang.
Only then was the king pleased. He turned the golden goblet and handed it to the Pilgrim. The Pilgrim took the wine, made the proper courtesies to the company, and drank it down. The king, seeing how readily he drank, offered him another cup. The Pilgrim did not refuse, but drank again.
"Drink a 'three-treasures' cup!" laughed the king. The Pilgrim did not refuse, but drank once more. The king ordered more wine poured. "Drink a 'four-seasons' cup!" he said. Bajie, standing by and watching the wine pass him by, swallowed and gulped with all his might; and when he saw how persistently the king pressed the Pilgrim, he could hold out no longer and called out, "Your Majesty, there was some of my credit in that medicine too! There was horse—" But the Pilgrim, fearing the blockhead would let the secret slip, thrust the cup of wine that was in his hand into Bajie's.
Bajie took it and drank it down at once, and said no more.
"Sage Monk," said the king, "you said just now that the medicine contained some 'horse.' What horse was that?"
The Pilgrim took up the word: "My brother has a loose tongue," he said. "Whenever he comes upon a proven prescription, he must tell it to the whole world. In the medicine Your Majesty took this morning there was aristolochia [Translator's note: literally 'horse bell vine'—the pun on 'horse' is Bajie's slip about the dragon horse's urine]."
The king asked his ministers, "What sort of drug is aristolochia? What ailment does it cure?"
One of the physicians of the Imperial College, who happened to be at hand, replied: "Sovereign lord, aristolochia is bitter and cold and without poison. It stops wheezing and dissolves phlegm with great effect; it frees the breath and most of all removes the worms of the blood; it repairs weakness and quiets coughs and opens the chest."
"Used rightly! Used rightly!" laughed the king. "Elder Bajie, drink another cup." The blockhead said not a word, but he too drank a "three-treasures" cup.
The king then handed wine to the Sha Monk, who also drank three cups, and then all sat down in due order.
After they had feasted for a good while, the king again raised a great goblet and offered it to the Pilgrim.
"Your Majesty, pray be seated," said the Pilgrim. "Old Sun will drink his round with the rest, and would never dream of refusing."
"The Holy Monk's favor to me is as weighty as a mountain," said the king, "and I can never repay it fully. Do me the grace to drink this great goblet, and I have somewhat to say to you."
"If you have anything to say," said the Pilgrim, "say it, and then old Sun will drink."
"I have had a sickness of worry and doubt for several years," said the king, "and one dose of the Holy Monk's magic elixir has broken it open, and so I am well again."
"Yesterday, when old Sun examined Your Majesty," laughed the Pilgrim, "I knew at once it was an illness of worry and doubt; but I did not know what it was that caused you such anxiety."
"The ancients said, 'A family's shame must not be told abroad,'" said the king. "But since the Holy Monk is my benefactor and master, I will tell you—only pray do not laugh at me."
"How should I dare laugh?" said the Pilgrim. "Say on, and never mind."
"Holy Monk, coming from the east," said the king, "through how many states have you passed?"
"Some five or six," said the Pilgrim.
"And the queens of those states," asked the king, "how are they styled?"
"The queens of kings," said the Pilgrim, "are all styled the Principal Queen of the Main Palace, the Queen of the East Palace, or the Queen of the West Palace."
"That is not how I style mine," said the king. "My principal queen is called the Golden Sage Consort, my queen of the east palace the Jade Sage Consort, and my queen of the west palace the Silver Sage Consort. At present only the Silver and the Jade are in the palace."
"Why is the Golden Sage Consort not in the palace?" asked the Pilgrim.
Tears rolled down the king's cheeks. "She has not been here for three years," he said.
"Where did she go?" asked the Pilgrim.
"Three years ago, at the season of the Dragon Boat Festival," said the king, "I was with my consorts and ladies in the imperial gardens, at the pomegranate pavilion, untying the rice dumplings, hanging up the mugwort, drinking calamus and realgar wine, and watching the dragon boats race. All at once a gust of wind arose, and a demon appeared in mid-air. He called himself Sai Taishui, and said he dwelt in the Xiezhi Cave on the Unicorn Mountain, and that his cave lacked a wife. He had heard that my Golden Sage Consort was beautiful of face and lovely of form, and he wanted her for his wife, and bade me send her out without delay. If she were not delivered up at the third call, he would first devour me, then all my ministers, and then swallow up the whole populace of the city till not one was left. At that moment, with my heart torn between the state and my people, I could do nothing but thrust the Golden Sage Consort out beyond the pomegranate pavilion, and the demon bore her away with a roar. For this cause I took fright; the rice dumplings I had eaten congealed and lodged within me, and since I went on worrying and longing without cease day and night, this bitter sickness of three years' standing came upon me. But now, after the Holy Monk's elixir, I have purged myself several times, and it was all those things that had accumulated three years ago. And so at this very hour my body is light and my spirit whole, and my strength is as it was before. My life today is the gift of the Holy Monk—how shall I measure it, that weighs more than Mount Tai itself!"
When the Pilgrim heard this he was full of joy, and swallowed the great goblet of wine in two gulps. "So this was the nature of Your Majesty's alarm!" he said with a smile. "Now that you have met old Sun, you have had the fortune to recover. But may I ask whether you would like the Golden Sage Consort brought home again?"
The king wept. "I think of her with aching longing, day and night without ceasing," he said, "but there is not a single man who can capture that demon. How could I not wish to have her back!"
"Old Sun will go and vanquish that demon for you," said the Pilgrim. "What say you to that?"
The king knelt down. "If you can rescue my consort," he said, "I am willing to lead my three palaces and nine consorts out of the city to live as common folk, and to hand over the whole realm to the Holy Monk, that you may reign as emperor."
Bajie, seeing these words and this gesture, could not hold back his roaring laughter. "This emperor has lost all his dignity!" he said. "Fancy giving up his kingdom for a wife, and kneeling to a monk!"
The Pilgrim hurried forward and raised the king to his feet. "Your Majesty," he asked, "since that demon carried off the Golden Sage Consort, has he come again at all?"
"He carried her off at the Dragon Boat Festival the year before last," said the king. "In the tenth month he came again to demand two palace maids, saying they were to wait upon the lady; I delivered two to him. Last year, in the third month, he came again for two maids; in the seventh month he took two more; and in the second month of this year he took two again. There is no telling when he will come next."
"With him coming so often," said the Pilgrim, "are you not afraid of him?"
"When he comes so many times," said the king, "I am afraid on the one hand, and on the other I fear he may do us harm. So in the fourth month of last year I had my workmen raise a Demon-Avoiding Tower. At the first sound of wind I know it is he, and I go into hiding in it with my two consorts and nine ladies."
"Since Your Majesty does not despise me," said the Pilgrim, "do me the favor of taking old Sun to have a look at this Demon-Avoiding Tower."
The king at once took the Pilgrim by the left hand and left the feast, and all the officials rose to their feet as well.
"Elder brother," said Zhu Bajie, "you don't understand the proprieties! Here is this imperial wine going to waste, and you break up the feast and walk out—what is there to go and look at?"
The king, hearing this, knew well that Bajie's heart was set on food, and so he commanded the officers of the imperial equipage to carry two vegetarian tables with wine out to the Demon-Avoiding Tower, to await the blockhead there. Only then did the blockhead stop his shouting, and he went off laughing with the master and the Sha Monk. "Off to a new feast!" he said.
The file of civil and military officials led the way, and the king and the Pilgrim, arm in arm, passed through the imperial palace until they reached the back of the imperial gardens—but still no towers or pavilions were to be seen. "Where is the Demon-Avoiding Tower?" asked the Pilgrim.
Before the words were out of his mouth, two eunuchs came with two red-lacquered carrying poles and, going to a stretch of open ground, pried up a square stone slab.
"This is it," said the king. "Below this is a hall of nine bays, some ten yards deep, with four great vats inside, filled to the brim with clear oil, with lamps burning day and night without cease. Whenever I hear the sound of wind, I come here to hide, and the men outside cover the opening with the stone slab."
"That demon has never meant you any real harm," laughed the Pilgrim. "If he meant to harm you, how could you hide from him here?" And even as he spoke, from the south came a roaring wind, blowing up dust and earth. The frightened officials cried out in unison, "This monk has a mouth of salt and pepper! The moment he speaks of a demon, a demon comes!"
In a panic the king dropped the Pilgrim's hand and dove into the pit, with Tang Sanzang close behind, and the officials all hid themselves away as fast as they could.
Bajie and the Sha Monk were for hiding too, but the Pilgrim seized them both by the hands, one on each side. "Brothers," he said, "don't be afraid. Let us take a look at him together and see what sort of demon he is."
"What a business!" said Bajie. "Why go and look at him? The officials have hidden, the master has gone to earth, and the king has taken to his heels. We might as well be off—who is there to show off to?" The blockhead struggled left and struggled right, but he could not get his hands free, and the Pilgrim held him fast for a long while. Then, all at once, a demon flashed into sight in mid-air. Look at him, if you please:
Nine feet of fierce and evil bulk, With a pair of round eyes that glitter like golden lamps. His two great ears spread out like fans, Four steel fangs stood like driven nails. Red hair twined about his temples, eyebrows bristling like flames, His nose hung down with nostrils wide agape, And wisps of beard like threads of cinnabar; His cheekbones jutted high, his face all livid blue. Red sinews corded his arms, his hands were indigo, And ten hooked claws clutched a spear. A leopard-skin kirtle was girt about his loins, Barefoot, with tangled hair, he had the look of a ghost.
When the Pilgrim saw him he asked, "Sha Monk, do you know him?"
"How should I know him?" said the Sha Monk. "I have never been introduced to him!"
Then he asked, "Bajie, do you know him?"
"I've never shared tea or wine with him," said Bajie, "and he's no friend or neighbor of mine. How should I know him?"
"He looks like the painted-faced, golden-eyed ghost who guards the gate of the Equal of Heaven of the Eastern Peak," said the Pilgrim.
"No, no!" said Bajie.
"How do you know he isn't?" asked the Pilgrim.
"Don't I know?" said Bajie. "A ghost is a shade of the underworld. It comes forth only in the evening, when the hours of the Monkey, the Rooster, the Dog, and the Boar arrive. It is only the hour of the Snake now, and what ghost would dare come out by daylight? And even if it were a ghost, it would have no power to ride the clouds. At best it could raise a mere whirlwind—but what sort of whirlwind is this great gale? Perhaps he is Sai Taishui himself."
"What a fine blockhead!" laughed the Pilgrim. "There's some sense in that after all! Since you say so, you two guard this spot, and let old Sun go up and ask his name and titles, so that we may rescue the Golden Sage Consort and bring her back to court."
"Go on, then," said Bajie. "But mind you don't give us away." The Pilgrim answered not a word, but with a majestic air he leaped upon his auspicious cloud and soared up into the air. Truly:
To order a state, one must first drive out the king's disease; To hold the Way, one must rid the heart of love and hate.
For now we do not know how this expedition into the air would end, in victory or defeat, or how the demon was to be captured and the Golden Sage Consort rescued. If you would learn the truth of it, you must listen to what is explained in the next chapter.