The story tells how Sun Wukong and his two companions followed the summoning officer to outside the Meridian Gate, where the Yellow Gate officer at once transmitted the report and had them brought in. The three of them stood side by side and would not kneel at all. The king asked: "Those three—are they the worthy disciples of the holy monk, the prince consort? What are your names and surnames? Where do you live? Why did you take the tonsure? What scriptures do you go to fetch?"
The Pilgrim stepped forward, intending to go up into the hall, when one of the royal guards shouted: "Do not move! If you have anything to say, present your memorial from where you stand."
"We who have left the world take a step forward whenever we can," laughed the Pilgrim. Bajie and the Sha Monk also drew near after him.
The elder, fearing they might be so coarse and rude as to startle the king, rose and called out: "Disciples, His Majesty asks the cause of your coming—present your memorial at once."
When the Pilgrim saw his master standing in attendance at the side, he could not contain himself and shouted aloud: "Your Majesty thinks little of others and much of himself! Since you have taken my master as prince consort, how can you make him stand in attendance? In this world the husband of a princess is called a man of honor—surely there is no such thing as a man of honor who must stand!"
At these words the king turned pale with fright and wanted to withdraw from the hall, but fearing to lose face, he could only steel his courage and order his attendants to fetch an embroidered stool, and ask Tang Sanzang to be seated.
Only then did the Pilgrim present his memorial: "Old Sun's ancestral home is the Water Curtain Cave on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit in the Kingdom of Aolai, on the Eastern Continent of Superior Body. Heaven was my father and Earth my mother; I was born from the splitting of a rock. In time I paid my respects to a Perfected One and learned the great Way in full. I returned to my immortal home and gathered my followers in that cave heaven and blessed land. I went down into the sea to subdue dragons and up the mountains to capture beasts. My name of death was wiped out and my name entered in the register of life; I held the office of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. I enjoyed the jade towers and delighted in roaming the jeweled pavilions. I met with the heavenly immortals and sang and rejoiced day after day; I dwelt in the holy realm and was happy morning after morning. Only because I disrupted the Peach Banquet and revolted against Heaven in a great rebellion was I captured and subdued by the Buddha. I was imprisoned beneath the Five Elements Mountain, eating iron pellets when hungry and drinking molten copper when thirsty—for five hundred years I never tasted tea or rice. Luckily my master came out of the Eastern Land to worship in the West, and Guanyin commanded that I be delivered from the disaster of heaven and freed from the great calamity, and so I took refuge in the gate of the Yogacara. My old taboo name is Wukong, but I am called the Pilgrim."
Hearing such weighty fame, the king hurried down from his dragon couch, walked over, and took the elder's arm with his imperial hand: "Prince consort, it is also heaven's destiny granted to me to meet with this immortal kin of yours."
Sanzang thanked him profusely for the favor and begged the king to return to his throne. The king asked again: "Which one is the second worthy disciple?"
Bajie pouted his lips and flaunted his might: "In a former life old Zhu was a man, fond of pleasure and lazy at heart. All my life I was muddled, my nature disordered and my mind confused. I did not know how high heaven is or how thick the earth, could not grasp how wide the sea or how far the mountains. Just as I was idling at ease, I suddenly met a Perfected One. Half a sentence undid the net of karma; two or three words split open the gate of disaster. In that moment I awoke and took him for my master on the spot. I carefully cultivated the work of the two eights and reverently refined the sequence of the three threes. When my practice was complete I soared aloft and was raised beyond the heavenly court. Loaded with the deep favor of the Jade Emperor, I was given the office of Marshal Tianpeng, commanding the heavenly river troops, roaming free in the palaces of Heaven. Only because, drunk at the Peach Banquet, I teased the moon goddess Chang'e, I was stripped of my rank and banished to the mortal world; through an error in reincarnation I was born into the body of a pig. I dwelt on Mount Fulin and committed boundless evil. Then I met Guanyin, who pointed me to the good path. I took refuge in Buddhism and now protect Tang Sanzang. I journey straight to the Western Heaven to worship and seek the wondrous scriptures. My Dharma name is Wuneng, and I am called Bajie, the Eight Precepts."
At these words the king trembled in fear and dared not look at him. The more the blockhead played up, shaking his head, pouting his lips, cocking his ears, and roaring with laughter. Sanzang, afraid again that he would startle the king, at once scolded: "Bajie, restrain yourself!" Only then did he clasp his hands, stand at attention, and pretend to be genteel.
The king asked again: "And the third worthy disciple—why did he take the faith?"
The Sha Monk pressed his palms together and said: "Old Sha was originally a common man, and because I feared the wheel of reincarnation, I sought the Way. I wandered to the corners of the sea and roamed to the ends of the earth. I always carried my robe and bowl with me and ever refined my mind and spirit within my breast. Through such piety I came upon an immortal companion. I nourished the child within and mated with the crimson maid. When my merit of three thousand was complete and the four marks were harmonized, I rose above the heavenly realm and bowed before the azure vault. I was given the office of Curtain-Raising General, serving the phoenix carriage and the dragon chariot, with the title of General. But at the Peach Banquet I accidentally dropped and broke the crystal cup, and was banished to the Flowing Sands River, where I changed my face and form and committed sins that harmed the living. Happily the Bodhisattva, traveling far to the Eastern Land, urged me to take the faith, to await the disciple of Buddha from the Tang, and to journey west for the scriptures and the fulfillment of the true fruit. Since then I have renewed myself and again cultivated the great awakening, and I took the river for my surname. My Dharma name is Wujing, and I am called the Sha Monk."
At these words the king was at once much alarmed and much pleased. He was pleased that his daughter had taken a living Buddha, and alarmed that the three were in truth demon gods.
Just as he was between surprise and delight, the chief astrologer of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau memorialized: "The wedding date has been fixed for the twelfth day of this present month. The day is auspicious in its stems and branches, and the horoscope is smooth and favorable—it is fitting for the joining of marriage."
"What day is today?" asked the king.
"Today is the eighth, the day of wushen," memorialized the astrologer, "when the ape offers fruit—just right for receiving the worthy and accepting affairs."
The king was greatly pleased, and ordered the officers in attendance to sweep and clean the pavilions, towers, and kiosks of the imperial garden, and to invite the prince consort and his three worthy disciples to rest there; later the nuptial banquet would be arranged and the princess would be matched with him. All obeyed respectfully, and the king withdrew from court; the officials all dispersed—of which we say no more.
Now when Sanzang and his disciples all arrived in the imperial garden, evening was drawing on, and the vegetarian meal was laid out. "After all this day, it is time to eat at last!" said Bajie, delighted.
The stewards at once carried over whole loads of vegetarian rice and noodle dishes. Bajie ate and added more, added more and ate again, until his belly was stuffed and distended before he finally stopped. Soon lamps were lit, bedding was laid out, and each went to his rest.
Seeing no one about, the elder turned on the Pilgrim in angry reproach: "Wukong! You ape, you ruin me time and again! I said we should only go and exchange the passport, and not approach the bower of colored silks. Why did you insist on leading me there to look? Now—have you had a good look! And it has stirred up this whole affair. What is to be done?"
The Pilgrim smiled appeasingly: "Master said that your late mother also threw the silk ball, met her destined bond, and so became a wife. It seemed you cherished a longing for the old customs, and so old Sun led you there; and I also thought of the words of the elder of the Monastery of the Elder of the Orphans Who Spread the Gold, and so we might examine the true and the false here. Just now I saw the king's face, with a somewhat gloomy and darkened cast to it; but I have not yet seen what the princess is like."
"What would you do if you saw the princess?" asked the elder.
"Old Sun's fiery eyes and golden pupils," said the Pilgrim, "can recognize the true from the false, the good from the evil, the rich from the poor, the noble from the base, the moment I lay eyes on a face; then I can act well and distinguish the crooked from the straight."
"Eldest Brother has lately learned to read faces too," laughed the Sha Monk and Bajie.
"Fortune-tellers of that trade would only count as my grandsons," said the Pilgrim.
"Stop your banter!" snapped Sanzang. "The fact is, she insists on taking me now. How are we to deal with it, after all?"
"We need only wait until the twelfth, the day of the wedding rejoicing," said the Pilgrim, "when the princess is sure to come out to pay her respects to her parents. Let old Sun watch from the side. If she is still a true woman, then you can be the prince consort and enjoy the glory and wealth of the kingdom, for all I care."
At these words Sanzang grew angrier still and swore: "Fine ape, you! You are still out to ruin me! As Wuneng said, of our ten parts of the road we have climbed nine and seven-eighths, and still you jab me with your hot tongue? Fold it up at once, and keep your stinking mouth shut! If you are rude again, I will recite the spell and make you wish you were dead!"
Hearing the spell mentioned, the Pilgrim hastily knelt before him: "Do not recite it, do not recite it! If she is a true woman, then when the bridal rites are performed, we will all storm the palace together and take you away."
While master and disciples talked, before they knew it the night watch had begun. Truly:
Deep, deep the palace clepsydra sounds; thick, thick the fragrance of flowers. The embroidered doors hang with beaded blinds; the quiet courtyards show no gleam of fire. The swing's ropes are cold, only its shadow lingering; the Qiang flute's last notes fade, stilling all four quarters. About the house the flowers cage the moon's bright sheen; across the sky no trees stand to block the stars' sharp light. The cuckoo's crying has ceased; the butterfly's dream runs long. The silver River stretches across the heavens; white clouds return to their homeland. It is the very place where the traveler's longing is keenest— The wind shaking the tender willows only deepens the desolation.
"Master, it is late," said Bajie. "Whatever business there is, discuss it in the morning. Sleep! Sleep!"
And so master and disciples indeed settled down to rest.
The night scene has been told; soon the golden cock sang the dawn. At the third drum of the fifth watch the king mounted his throne to hold court, and one could see:
The palace gates swing wide, and purple vapor rises high; The wind carries the imperial music through the azure sky. Clouds shift the leopard-tail banners, the flags stir and sway; Sunbeams strike the dragon heads, and the jade pendants shake. Fragrant mist adds softly to the green of the palace willows; Dewdrops moisten lightly the beauty of the garden flowers. The hundred officers file in with shouts of long life and ritual dance; Seas are calm and rivers clear—one realm beneath one rule.
When the civil and military officers had finished the audience, the king summoned the Court of Imperial Entertainments to arrange the wedding feast for the twelfth, and today to prepare the spring wine vessels, inviting the prince consort to enjoy himself at leisure in the imperial garden. He ordered the Ceremonial Bureau to conduct the three worthy kinsmen to the Hostel for Visiting Officials to sit a while, and the Court of Imperial Entertainments to arrange three vegetarian banquets to attend them there. In both places the Imperial Academy of Music was to play, serving them as they enjoyed the spring scenery and whiled away the day.
Hearing this, Bajie answered at once: "Your Majesty, since my master and I met, we have not been apart for a single moment. Since you are feasting in the imperial garden today, take us along to enjoy ourselves for a couple of days, so that the master can make your family a prince consort. Otherwise, this piece of business will not go through."
The king saw that he was ugly and spoke coarsely, and saw him twist his neck, pout his lips, and waggle his ears, as if there were some madness in him; fearing he might spoil the marriage, he could only comply, and ordered: "Set two places in the Pavilion of Eternal Peace over All Lands, where I will sit with the prince consort. Set three places in the Pavilion of Lingering Spring, and ask the three to sit apart there, lest the seating of master and disciples prove awkward."
Only then did the blockhead give a shout of thanks toward the throne, and they all withdrew. The king further decreed that the palace officers prepare a banquet, and that the consorts of the three palaces and six courts should dress the princess's hair and add to her trousseau, in preparation for the fine match on the twelfth.
It was around the hour of the Snake when the king set out his procession and invited Tang Sanzang and the rest to come into the imperial garden to view the sights. A fine place indeed:
The paths are paved with colored stone, the railings carved with ornate balustrades. The paths are paved with colored stone, and beside the stones of the paths grow wondrous blossoms; the railings are carved with ornate balustrades, and beyond the rails grow rare and exotic flowers. The flowering peach dazzles the kingfishers; the tender willows flash with orioles. Each step brings secret fragrance filling one's sleeves; each stride carries the clean scent thicker on one's robes. There are phoenix terraces and dragon pools, bamboo pavilions and pine bowers. Upon the phoenix terrace, one plays the flute and beckons the phoenix to come in homage; within the dragon pools, fish are raised until they turn to dragons and fly away. The bamboo pavilion holds poems, labored over and carved like white snow; the pine bower collects essays, polished to pearls and jade, annotated in the classic texts. Rockery mounds rise green with fist-sized stones; winding waters run deep with emerald waves. Peony pavilions, rose trellises, layered brocade spread like velvet; jasmine rails, begonia beds, heaped clouds and laid jade. The peonies give off a strange fragrance; the hollyhocks are wondrously gorgeous. White pears and red apricots vie in splendor; purple orchids and golden day-lilies contend in brilliance. Poppies, lily magnolias, azaleas—all fresh and radiant; wax flowers, balsams, plantain lilies—all trembling and stately. Patch upon patch the red saturates like rouge moistened; clump upon clump the fragrance thickens, ringed round with embroidered brocade. And how delightful that the east wind brings back the warm sun, and the whole garden, all charm, displays its radiance.
The king and his company looked for a long while. Soon the officers of the Ceremonial Bureau invited the Pilgrim and his two companions into the Pavilion of Lingering Spring, while the king led Tang Sanzang up to the Pavilion of Eternal Peace; each side feasted apart. The song and dance, the flute and strings, the spread and the display were truly:
The lofty gates stand majestic as the light of dawn is born; Phoenix towers and dragon pavilions lie athwart the auspicious haze. Spring colors lay out in fine brocade the flowers and grass; Distant light of heaven falls and makes the brocade robes shine. Flutes and songs wind about as at an immortal's feast; Cups and goblets fly from hand to hand with the clear jadelike wine. The lord is pleased and the ministers rejoice, together enjoying the sights; The lands within and without are at peace forever, and the world is hale.
At this time the elder, seeing how the king honored him, had no way out and could only feign delight—truly an outward joy and an inward grief.
As they sat, the elder noticed four golden screens hanging on the wall, painted with the four scenes of spring, summer, autumn, and winter, each with verses inscribed upon it—poems by noted scholars of the Hanlin Academy. The "Spring Scene Poem" says:
"The one vital breath of the whole round heaven turns the great potter's wheel; The earth rejoices, and all ten thousand things are new. Peaches and plums contend in beauty, the flowers in full bloom; Swallows come to the painted beams, trailing scented dust."
The "Summer Scene Poem" says:
"The warm south wind blows gently, and thoughts come slow; In the palace courts pomegranates and mallows reflect the sun's blaze. The jade flute's tune startles the noonday dream; The fragrance of water chestnuts and lotus drifts to the courtyard curtains."
The "Autumn Scene Poem" says:
"By the golden well the plane tree turns one leaf of yellow; The beaded blinds are not drawn up, and night frost comes. The swallows know the day of the earth-god and leave their nests; The wild geese, breaking the reed flowers, pass to other lands."
The "Winter Scene Poem" says:
"Heaven rains flying clouds, dim and bitter cold; The north wind blows snow, piling it on a thousand mountains. The deep palace has its own red brazier's warmth; And word comes that the plum has bloomed, jade-white along the rails."
When the king saw Tang Sanzang freely savoring the poems, he said: "Since the prince consort delights in savoring the flavor of poetry, he must surely be skilled at versifying. If you will not begrudge us your pearls and jade, may I ask you to match each poem in the same rhyme?"
The elder was a man of clear mind and manifest nature, who forgot his cares before the scene; and seeing the king's deep regard, when bidden to match the rhymes he could not help suddenly reciting a line: "The sun warms, the ice melts, and the great earth is made even."
The king was overjoyed and at once summoned the attendant officers: "Fetch the writing implements, and ask the prince consort to complete his matching verses and write them down, that I may savor them slowly."
The elder gladly did not refuse, and took up the brush to match them.
He matched the "Spring Scene Poem":
"The sun warms, the ice melts, and the great earth is made even; The flowers and plants of the imperial garden are renewed again. Harmonious winds and fattening rains give the people their share of grace; Seas calm and rivers clear, free of the world's dust."
He matched the "Summer Scene Poem":
"The Dipper points south, and the daylight hours grow long; Clouds in the locust trees and flame in the pomegranates contend in light. Yellow orioles and purple swallows sing in the palace willows, Their deft double notes turning into the crimson curtains."
He matched the "Autumn Scene Poem":
"Fragrance wafts from green tangerines and yellow oranges; The pines and cypresses stay green and welcome the frost's coming. By the hedge chrysanthemums half open, gathered in brocade; The tones of flutes and songs ring through the land of water and clouds."
He matched the "Winter Scene Poem":
"The auspicious snow has just cleared, and the air is cold; Wondrous peaks and cunning rocks—the hills are balls of jade. In the stove burns beast-shaped charcoal warming the milk cream; Hands folded in sleeves, I sing aloud leaning on the green balustrade."
Seeing the matching verses, the king was overjoyed and intoned: "A fine line—'Hands folded in sleeves, I sing aloud leaning on the green balustrade!'" He then ordered the Imperial Academy of Music to set the new poems to music, and they did not disperse until the day was done.
The Pilgrim and his two companions in the Pavilion of Lingering Spring also enjoyed themselves to the full, each drinking a few cups until they were somewhat tipsy. They were just about to go looking for the elder when they saw he was already in a pavilion with the king.
Bajie's doltish nature erupted, and he called out at once: "What joy! What ease! Today we have enjoyed ourselves for once! And now, being full, it is time to go to sleep!"
"Second Brother has no self-discipline at all," laughed the Sha Monk. "Stuffed full like this, how can you sleep?"
"What do you know!" said Bajie. "As the saying goes: if after eating you do not lie stretched out stiff, your belly will have no lining of fat!"
Tang Sanzang parted from the king with cautions to be discreet, only cautions to be discreet, and when he reached the pavilion he reproached the three: "You beastly blockheads, you grow more boorish by the day! What place do you think this is, that you must shout and bawl without cease? If you anger the king, will he not take our lives?"
"No harm, no harm!" said Bajie. "We are his in-laws now, and he can hardly take offense. As the saying goes: beating never breaks off kinship, and scolding never breaks off neighborliness. We are all just having fun—what is there to fear from him?"
The elder snapped and ordered: "Seize the blockhead and give him twenty strokes of the meditation staff!"
The Pilgrim indeed seized him and threw him down, and the elder raised the staff to beat him. The blockhead cried out: "Grandfather prince consort! Spare me, spare me!"
The attendant officers at the banquet intervened to stop it. The blockhead scrambled to his feet and grumbled: "Fine man of honor! Fine prince consort! The marriage is not even made yet, and already he is meting out the king's law!"
The Pilgrim clapped a hand over his mouth: "No nonsense, no nonsense! Go to sleep at once."
They spent another night in the Pavilion of Lingering Spring. The next morning, the feasting and music went on as before.
Before they knew it, three or four days of pleasure had passed, and it was just the fine day of the twelfth. The officers of the several departments of the Court of Imperial Entertainments reported back: "Since your servants received the decree on the eighth, the residence of the prince consort has been completed, and waits only for the laying out of the dowry. The nuptial banquet is also fully prepared—in all, more than five hundred tables of meat and vegetarian dishes."
The king was overjoyed and was just about to invite the prince consort to the feast when a palace officer memorialized before the throne: "Long live Your Majesty! Her Majesty the principal queen invites you."
The king withdrew into the inner palace, and there he saw the queens of the three palaces and the consorts of the six courts, leading the princess, all chatting and laughing in the Zhaoyang Palace. Truly it was a mass of flowers and a heap of brocade! That expanse of splendor and allure truly surpassed the halls of heaven and the moon, no whit inferior to the jasper courts of the immortals. There are four new songs to prove it, called "The Joyful Meeting of a Fine Marriage."
The "Song of Joy" says:
Joy! Joy! Joy! Glad and merry indeed! The marriage is made; love and grace are sweet. In the cunning palace dress, how could Chang'e compare? Dragon hairpins and phoenix ornaments, gaudy with flying gold thread. Cherry lips, white teeth, and rosy face; A body as light and lissom as a flower. Layer upon layer of brocade, amid the five-colored throng; Fragrance wafting, within the company worth a thousand in gold.
The "Song of Meeting" says:
Meet! Meet! Meet! Alluring and charming. She outdoes Mao Qiang and surpasses the ladies of Chu. Toppling cities, toppling kingdoms, she rivals flowers and jade. Her dress and ornaments are fresher still, her hairpins and rings most gorgeous. An orchid heart and a spirit of thoroughwort, pure and lofty; A powdered face and ice-white flesh, noble and honored. Her dark brows a single line, faint as distant hills; Slender and graceful, she gathers the brocade company about her.
The "Song of Excellence" says:
Excellence! Excellence! Excellence! A jade maiden, an immortal child. Deeply lovable, truly praiseworthy. A strange fragrance dense and rich, powder and paint intermingled. The blessed land of Mount Tiantai is far away—how could it match the house of a king? Laughter and talk in playful charm, flutes and songs winding in din. Flowers heaped and brocade piled, a thousandfold of beauty— Search all the world, how could anything compare with her?
The "Song of Marriage" says:
Marriage! Marriage! Marriage! The scent of orchids and musk wafts forth. A host of immortals, a throng of beauties. The consorts change their colors; the princess puts on new dress. Her cloudlike locks are piled in raven coils; her rainbow skirts press down her phoenix gown. A stream of celestial music rings clear and bright; two rows of crimson and purple in profusion. In former years the pledge was made to ride the phoenix; Today, how blessed, we meet in this fine marriage.
Now when the king's carriage arrived, the queens and consorts led the princess, together with all the painted maids and palace girls, to welcome him. The king, beaming with joy, entered the Zhaoyang Palace and sat down.
When the queens and consorts had finished paying their respects, the king said: "My worthy daughter the princess, since the eighth, when you raised the colored silks and threw the ball, you have been fortunate enough to meet the holy monk, and I suppose your heart's desire is now fulfilled. The officers of the various offices have also been able to enter into my mind, and everything is now in readiness. Today is just the fine date—hurry early to the nuptial banquet, and do not miss the auspicious hour."
The princess came forward, prostrated herself, and memorialized: "Father King, I beg you to pardon your daughter for ten thousand offenses. I have a word to present: these past days I have heard the palace officers say that the holy monk of Tang has three disciples, born utterly hideous. Your daughter dares not meet them, for fear that the very sight of them would frighten her. I beg that you will send them out of the city, Father King, and that would be best. Otherwise they might startle and harm my weak body, and turn instead into a calamity."
"If you had not spoken, my child," said the king, "I should almost have forgotten. Indeed, they are born somewhat ugly, and these days I have had them entertained in the Pavilion of Lingering Spring in the imperial garden. Take advantage of today: call them to the hall, give them their passport, and send them out of the city, and then we can hold the banquet in peace."
The princess kowtowed in thanks for the favor, and the king at once set out his carriage and mounted the throne, and gave the decree: "Invite the prince consort together with the three."
Now that Tang Sanzang had been counting the days on his fingers and had endured until the twelfth, before dawn he was already taking counsel with the three: "Today is the twelfth. How are we to deal with this matter?"
"The king—I have read that he has some ill luck about him," said the Pilgrim, "but it has not yet touched him, and it is no great harm. The only trouble is I have not been able to see the princess's face. If she comes out, one glance from old Sun will tell the true from the false, and only then will we act. Set your mind at ease. He is sure to send for us now and pack us out of the city. You just accept it and do not be afraid. I will dodge aside for a moment and come back, keeping close guard on you."
While master and disciples were talking, sure enough the officer in attendance and the Ceremonial Bureau came to invite them. "Let us go, let us go!" laughed the Pilgrim. "It must be that they are seeing us off, to keep the master for the marriage."
"If they are seeing us off, there will surely be a thousand or two taels of gold and silver," said Bajie, "and we can use it to buy some presents to take home. When we get to my in-laws' house, we can have another meeting of relatives and a bit of fun."
"Second Brother, hold your tongue," said the Sha Monk. "Stop your nonsense and let Eldest Brother decide."
And so they took the luggage and the horse and followed those officers to the foot of the vermilion steps.
When the king saw them, he bade the Pilgrim and the other two come forward and said: "Bring up your passport, and I will affix my treasure seal and countersign and hand it to you. Besides that, I will lay out ample traveling expenses and send you three on your way early to the Spirit Mountain to see the Buddha. If you return with the scriptures, there will be a heavy reward besides. Leave the prince consort here, and do not be anxious."
The Pilgrim thanked him and bade the Sha Monk bring out the passport and present it. The king examined it, at once applied the seal and affixed his countersign, and further took out ten ingots of gold and twenty ingots of silver, as a token of the kinship gift. Bajie, whose heart was ever set on wealth and women, went at once and took them.
The Pilgrim gave a shout toward the throne: "Your pardon for the disturbance! Your pardon for the disturbance!" and turned to go. In a panic, Sanzang scrambled to his feet in a flurry, caught hold of the Pilgrim, and gritting his teeth, said: "So you are all going off and leaving me, without a care!"
The Pilgrim pressed Sanzang's palm and threw him a glance: "Stay here and enjoy yourself at ease. When we have fetched the scriptures, we will come back to see you."
The elder, half believing and half not, would not let go. All the officers saw it and took it that they were truly parting and going away.
Soon the king again invited the prince consort up into the hall, and ordered the officers to see the three out of the city. The elder could only let go and go up into the hall.
The Pilgrim and the other two, with the crowd, came out of the court gate and parted from them all. "Are we really going, then?" asked Bajie.
The Pilgrim said nothing, and walked on straight to the hostel. The postal official received them and served tea and laid out a meal.
The Pilgrim said to Bajie and the Sha Monk: "You two stay here, and by no means stick your heads out. Whatever the postal official asks about, answer him vaguely. Do not talk to me—I am going to protect the master."
Brave Great Sage! He plucked out a hair, blew on it with his immortal breath, and cried "Change!" It changed into a replica of himself, staying in the hostel with Bajie and the Sha Monk, while his true body flashed up into midair and changed into a honeybee—tiny and delicate indeed. One could see:
Wings of yellow, a mouth of sweetness, a tail of sharpness, It drifts and dances wildly with the wind. Best of all at sipping stamens and stealing fragrance, It sways past willows and threads through flowers. After all its bitter toil and washing, Flying here and flying there in empty bustle— The rich sweetness it brews it never tastes itself, And only leaves its name behind.
Look at him, flying lightly into the court. From afar he saw Tang Sanzang seated on an embroidered stool at the king's left, his brows drawn in sorrow and his heart full of anxiety. He flew straight to his vairochana cap, crept quietly down to his ear, and called: "Master, I have come. Do not worry."
These words were heard by Tang Sanzang alone; none of that crowd of mortals could have any inkling of them. Only when Tang Sanzang heard them did he begin to feel at ease.
In a moment a palace officer came to invite: "Long live Your Majesty! The nuptial banquet has been laid out in the Zhique Palace. Her Majesty and the princess are both in the palace awaiting you, and ask only that Your Majesty and the man of honor come to the meeting of relatives."
The king was overjoyed beyond measure and at once went into the palace together with the prince consort. Truly:
The wicked master loves the flower, and the flower brings calamity; The Zen mind is stirred to thoughts, and the thoughts give birth to sorrow.
After all, who knows how Tang Sanzang would free himself in the inner palace? Listen to the explanation in the next chapter.