This story tells how Elder Kou, restored to life, once more made ready banners and canopies, drums and music, monks and Daoists, friends and relatives, and saw the pilgrims off as before—but of that no more. Now the four pilgrims of Tang took the great road, and truly the Buddha land of the West was different from every other place. They saw rare flowers, jade grasses, ancient cypresses, and hoary pines; in every place they passed, household after household was given to goodness, family after family fed monks; at every mountain's foot men were cultivating their conduct, and in the groves they saw wayfarers chanting scriptures.
Traveling by night and resting by dawn, master and disciples went on for another six or seven days, when suddenly they saw a stretch of tall towers and several tiers of lofty pavilions, truly soaring a hundred feet into the sky, rising toward the Milky Way and hanging in the void. Looking down, they viewed the setting sun; reaching up, they could pluck the flying stars. The spacious windows swallowed up the universe; the lofty ridges of the roofs met the cloudy screens of heaven. When the yellow crane brings tidings, the autumn trees grow old; when the colored phoenix brings a letter, the evening wind is clear. This was a palace of numinous halls and jeweled towers, of jade galleries and pearl courts. In the true halls the Way was discussed; through the universe the scriptures were transmitted. The flowers were loveliest as spring came on; the pines were greenest after the rain passed. The immortal herbs and fairy fruit put forth fresh splendor year after year; the red phoenix, displaying its ritual dance, stirred a thousandfold of numinous wonder.
Sanzang pointed into the distance with his whip: "Wukong, what a fine place!"
"Master," said the Pilgrim, "at that false scene and false image of Buddha, you insisted on dismounting to worship. But today, having reached this true scene and true image of Buddha, you don't even get off your horse—what have you to say to that?" Startled, Sanzang turned and threw himself off the horse—and found they had already reached the gate of the towers.
A young Daoist acolyte, standing slantwise before the mountain gate, called: "Are you not, perhaps, the scripture-seeker of the Eastern Land?"
The elder hastily composed his dress and looked up, and saw the acolyte clad in a robe of brocade, shaking a whisk of jade. Clad in a robe of brocade—he often feasted in jeweled towers by the jasper pool; shaking a whisk of jade—he swept the dust on the cinnabar terraces and the purple courts. At his elbow hung the registers of immortality; on his feet he wore cloud-treading shoes. Airy and free, a true feather-robed immortal; fair of face, he was rare indeed. He had refined his life to dwell long in a blessed spot; he had cultivated eternal youth and cast off the dust of the world. The holy monk knew not this guest of Spirit Mountain—it was the Great Immortal of the Golden Summit, come to welcome him.
The Great Sage Sun recognized him, and at once called: "Master, this is the Great Immortal of the Golden Summit of the Abbey of Jade Truth at the foot of Spirit Mountain, come to welcome us."
Only then did Sanzang understand, and he stepped forward to bow. The Great Immortal laughed: "The holy sage has only now arrived this year. The Bodhisattva Guanyin tricked me. Ten years ago, receiving the golden decree of the Buddha, she went to the Eastern Land to find the scripture-seeker, and said he would reach my place in two or three years. I have waited for him year after year, without the least news—who would have thought I should only meet him this year?"
Sanzang pressed his palms together: "We are beholden to the Great Immortal's warm regard! Our thanks! Our thanks!"
Then the four pilgrims led the horse and carried the loads into the abbey together with the Great Immortal, and met him one by one. He ordered tea and a vegetarian meal, and told the acolyte to heat fragrant water that the holy monk might bathe before setting foot on the Buddha's ground. Truly:
Merit complete and practice done, he should bathe; The nature refined and tamed must match its native truth. A thousand hardships and ten thousand toils now at last are stilled; The nine precepts and the three refuges begin to make him new. The demons all swept away, indeed he treads the Buddha's ground; The disasters dissolved, he is fit to see the monks of the Law. The dust of travel washed off, clean and undefiled; Returning to the root and the source, his body is not destroyed.
After master and disciples had bathed, before they knew it the day was drawing to a close, and they rested that night in the Abbey of Jade Truth.
The next morning, Tang Sanzang changed his clothes, put on his brocade cassock, donned his vairochana cap, took his staff in hand, and went up into the hall to take his leave of the Great Immortal. The Great Immortal laughed: "Yesterday in rags, today in bright array—looking at you now, you are a true son of Buddha indeed."
Sanzang bowed farewell and made to go, but the Great Immortal said: "Wait a moment. Let me see you off."
"No need for you to see us off," said the Pilgrim. "Old Sun knows the road."
"What you know is the cloud road," said the Great Immortal. "The holy monk has not yet mounted the cloud road; he must go by the road of the ground."
"That is well said," said the Pilgrim. "Old Sun has been here a few times, but always coming by cloud and going by cloud—never have I actually set foot on this ground. Since there is a road of the ground, I'll trouble you to see us along it. My master's heart is set on worshiping the Buddha, so pray do not hesitate."
Smiling, the Great Immortal took the hand of Tang Sanzang and led him up the sandalwood way to the gate of the Dharma. It turned out that this road did not go out through the mountain gate at all: it ran straight from the main hall of the abbey out through the back door. The Great Immortal pointed at Spirit Mountain: "Holy sage, look there at the auspicious light of five colors in midair, the thousandfold layers of auspicious mist—that is the lofty Vulture Peak, the holy realm of the Buddha."
At the sight of it Sanzang bowed, and the Pilgrim laughed: "Master, that's not the place for bowing yet. As the saying goes, 'The horse drops dead before the mountain ever draws near.' The town is still far away from here—how can you bow already? If you were to bow all the way to the summit, how many knocks of the head would that take?"
"Holy sage," said the Great Immortal, "you, with the Great Sage, the Heavenly Reeds, and the Curtain-Raiser—all four of you—have now reached the blessed land and can see Spirit Mountain. I am going back." Sanzang bowed farewell and they went on.
The Great Sage led Tang Sanzang and the others, walking slowly and at ease, up the slope of Spirit Mountain. They had gone no more than five or six li when they came upon a stretch of living water, its rolling waves surging and flying, some eight or nine li wide, with not a trace of human presence on any side.
Sanzang was alarmed: "Wukong, this road is wrong! Can it be that the Great Immortal pointed us astray? This water is so broad and so rough, and there is not a boat or a ferry to be seen—how are we to cross?"
"It's not wrong," laughed the Pilgrim. "Look over there—isn't that a great bridge? We must cross by that bridge, and only then will the true fruit be achieved." The elder and the others drew near to look, and saw a placard by the bridge with three characters: "The Cloud-Piercing Ferry." It turned out to be a single-log bridge. Truly:
Seen from afar, it spans the void like a beam of jade; Seen from near, it lies across the water, a withered raft. To bridge the rivers and dam the seas is easier far Than this single log, this one plank, that men must tread! A ten-thousand-fathom rainbow lying flat in shadow, A thousand fathoms of white silk reaching to the sky's edge. So narrow and slippery, it is hard indeed to cross— Only an immortal, treading the colored clouds, might walk it.
Sanzang trembled with fear: "Wukong, this bridge was not made for men to walk. Let us find another way."
"It is the very way! The very way!" laughed the Pilgrim.
Bajie was in a panic: "This a way? Who would dare walk it? The water's broad, the waves are high, and it's a single log, narrow and slippery—how could anyone set foot on it?"
"You all stand there," said the Pilgrim, "and let Old Sun walk it to show you." Brave Great Sage! He spread his stride and jumped up onto the single-log bridge, swaying and rocking, and in a moment had run across. On the other side he called back: "Come over! Come over!" Sanzang waved his hands, while Bajie and the Sha Monk bit their fingers: "Hard! Hard! Hard!" The Pilgrim ran back across, grabbed Bajie, and said: "Blockhead, come with me, come with me!" But Bajie threw himself down on the ground: "Slippery! Slippery! Slippery! I can't walk it! Spare me! Let me ride the wind and mist across!"
The Pilgrim held him fast: "What place do you think this is, that you may ride the wind and mist? You must cross by this bridge, and only then can you become a Buddha."
"Brother," said Bajie, "if I can't be a Buddha, so be it—but I truly can't walk it!"
The two of them rolled and scrambled, pulled and dragged, wrestling by the bridge, until the Sha Monk came over to make peace, and only then did the Pilgrim let go of him.
Sanzang turned his head and suddenly saw a man poling a boat along the lower reaches of the stream, calling: "Ferry crossing! Ferry crossing!" The elder was delighted: "Disciples, stop your fooling. There's a ferryboat coming." The three jumped up and stood still, looking with all their eyes. As the boat drew near, it turned out to be a boat without a bottom. But the Pilgrim, with his fiery eyes and golden pupils, had recognized it at once: it was the Buddha Who Welcomes, also known as the Buddha King of Light of the Jeweled Canopy. The Pilgrim, however, did not give him away, and merely kept calling: "Come here! Pole her in!"
In a moment the boat had been poled to the bank, and again the call came: "Ferry crossing! Ferry crossing!" At the sight of it Sanzang was alarmed once more: "This bottomless broken boat of yours—how can it carry people across?"
The Buddha said:
"My boat has been famous since Chaos was first parted, And lucky am I, poling it, that it never changes. With waves and wind it is steady as ever; Without beginning or end, it is glad in its peace. The six dusts unstained, it can return to the One; Through ten thousand kalpas it travels safe and free. A bottomless boat cannot cross the sea— Yet from of old till now it has ferried all living things."
The Great Sage Sun pressed his palms together in thanks: "We are beholden to your kind welcome of my master. Master, get on the boat. Though it has no bottom, it is steady; even in wind and waves it will not capsize."
But the elder still hung back, doubtful. The Pilgrim, catching him under the arms, gave him a push. The master could not keep his footing, and toppled head over heels into the water—but was at once pulled up by the ferryman and set standing in the boat. The master still shook out his clothes and stamped his shoes, grumbling at the Pilgrim.
The Pilgrim then led the Sha Monk and Bajie aboard, with the horse and the loads, and they all stood in the body of the boat. The Buddha pushed off gently, and they saw floating down from upstream the corpse of a dead man. The elder was horrified at the sight. The Pilgrim laughed: "Master, don't be afraid—that was you."
"It was you, it was you!" said Bajie. The Sha Monk clapped his hands: "It was you, it was you!" And the boatman, in his chant, called out too: "That is you! Congratulations, congratulations!" And the three of them all joined in the chorus.
Poling the boat, they crossed the Cloud-Piercing Immortal Ferry in a little while, steady and safe. Then Sanzang turned and stepped lightly, lightly, ashore on the other side. There is a poem in proof:
The body of flesh and bone is cast away at last; The primal spirit alone is dear and close. Only today, practice complete, does he become a Buddha, Washed clean of the six-times-six dusts of former years.
This is truly what is called the vast wisdom that climbs to the farther shore, the dharma without limit. When the four pilgrims landed and turned to look, the bottomless boat had vanished without a trace, and only then did the Pilgrim tell them it had been the Buddha Who Welcomes.
Only now did Sanzang understand. He hastily turned around and thanked his three disciples in return. "There is no thanks on either side," said the Pilgrim. "We helped each other. We were delivered by you, master, and borrowing the gate of your path, cultivating our merits, have happily achieved the true fruit; and you, master, relying on our protection, holding fast to the faith, have happily cast off your mortal frame. Master, look at this scene before you—flowers, grass, pines, bamboo, phoenixes, cranes, stags, and deer—a blessed realm. Compared with the places where demons showed their transformed shapes, which is fair and which foul? Which good and which evil?"
Sanzang thanked him without end. Every one of them light of body and brisk of step, they walked up Spirit Mountain, and before long saw the ancient Thunderclap Monastery:
Its summit grazes the Milky Way; Its roots join the veins of Mount Sumeru. Cunning peaks in rows, strange rocks in jagged ranks. Beneath the overhanging cliffs, jade grasses and rare flowers; Beside the winding paths, purple magic herbs and fragrant orchids. Immortal apes plucking fruit enter the peach grove, Like fire gilding gold; White cranes roost on the pine boughs, Like mist cradling jade. Colored phoenixes in pairs, green simurghs in couples. Colored phoenixes in pairs, singing toward the sun, make the whole world auspicious; Green simurghs in couples, dancing in the wind, are rare sights on earth. And one could see the golden tiles, thick and dark, laid like mandarin ducks; The bright flowered bricks, paved like agate. East a row, west a row, all palaces of fairy courts and pearl towers; South a belt, north a belt, endless treasure halls and jeweled pavilions. On the Hall of the Heavenly Kings, rosy light shines; Before the Hall of the Protectors of the Faith, purple flame streams. The pagoda rises in majesty; the udumbara blossoms give forth their scent. Truly, the very ground is so blessed that it seems no part of Heaven; The clouds are so idle that the day seems long. The dust of the world never reaches here; all causes are at an end; Through ten thousand kalpas the great Hall of the Law stands unblemished.
Master and disciples sauntered free and easy up to the summit of Spirit Mountain, and saw upasakas ranged beneath the groves of green pines and good men ranked amid the thickets of verdant cypresses. The elder at once made to bow, and the upasakas, upasikas, monks, and nuns pressed their palms together in haste: "Holy sage, pray do not bow yet. When you have seen the Muni, come back and converse."
"Too early! Too early!" laughed the Pilgrim. "Let us go first and worship those who rank above." The elder, dancing with joy, followed the Pilgrim to the very gate of the Thunderclap Monastery. There the Four Vajra Guardians barred the way and asked: "Has the holy sage come?" Sanzang bowed: "It is your disciple Xuanzang, arrived." Having answered, he was about to enter the gate, but the Vajras said: "Holy sage, wait a moment. Let us report before you enter." One of the Vajras sent word round to the four Vajra Guardians of the second gate: "The monk of Tang has arrived." And from the second gate the word passed to the third: "The monk of Tang has arrived."
Within the third gate were the divine monks in charge of offerings, and when they heard that the monk of Tang had arrived, they hurried to the foot of the Great Hall of the Mighty One and reported to the Tathagata, the World-Honored Shakyamuni: "The holy monk of Tang has come to the precious mountain to fetch the scriptures."
The Buddha was greatly pleased, and at once summoned and assembled the eight Bodhisattvas, the four Vajras, the five hundred arhats, the three thousand guardians, the Eleven Luminaries, and the eighteen Protectors of the Faith, ranged in two rows; then he issued his golden decree to summon the monk of Tang in. Within, tier by tier and rank by rank, in accordance with the Buddha's decree, the call went up: "Let the holy sage come in."
The monk of Tang, keeping strictly to the rules, went in through the mountain gate together with Wukong, Wuneng, and Wujing, leading the horse and carrying the loads. Truly:
In those years, with high resolve, he received the imperial commission, Took his passport, bade the king farewell, and went down the jade steps. At dawn he climbed the mountains, greeting mist and dew; At dusk he pillowed on stone, sleeping amid cloud and haze. Shouldering his pilgrim's load, he crossed three thousand streams; Whirling his staff, he walked ten thousand cliffs. His thought was fixed on achieving the true fruit— And only today has he come to see the Tathagata.
The four pilgrims reached the front of the Great Hall of the Mighty One and prostrated themselves before the Tathagata. When the worship was done, they bowed to left and right. Each had completed his three circuits, and then, kneeling long before the Buddha, they presented the travel permit, which the Tathagata looked through one by one and handed back to Sanzang.
Sanzang bowed low and made his address: "Your disciple Xuanzang, by the imperial command of the great Tang emperor of the Eastern Land, has come from afar to your precious mountain to worship and seek the true scriptures, for the salvation of all living beings. I beg the Buddha, in his grace, to grant them to me soon, that I may return to my own country."
Only then did the Tathagata open his lips of compassion and give full rein to his heart of mercy, saying to Sanzang: "Your Eastern Land is the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa. Because there Heaven is high and the earth thick, with countless things and teeming men, there is much greed and much killing, much lust and much deceit, much cheating and much fraud. They do not revere the Buddhist faith, do not turn to good causes, do not respect the Three Luminaries, do not value the five grains; they are disloyal and unfilial, unrighteous and unkind; they deceive their own hearts and betray their own souls; they use great measures in taking and small in giving; they take lives and slaughter beasts. They have piled up boundless sins, their crimes overflowing with evil, and so they bring upon themselves the disasters of hell, sinking forever into the dark underworld, to suffer all those pains of the pestle and the mill, and to change into beasts. There are all those forms with hair on their backs and horns on their heads, paying with their bodies, feeding their flesh to men. That they sink forever into Avici and can never win release—it is all for this reason. Though Confucius established there the teachings of benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and wisdom, and kings have succeeded one another, maintaining the punishments of exile, servitude, execution, and mutilation, what are they against those who are foolish and unenlightened, lawless and unbridled! I have here the scriptures of the Three Stores, which can lift the burden of suffering and undo the calamities of sin. Of the Three Stores: one store of dharmas, discoursing on Heaven; one store of treatises, discoursing on Earth; one store of scriptures, delivering ghosts. In all, thirty-five sections, numbering fifteen thousand one hundred and forty-four scrolls. They are truly the path to the cultivation of the truth and the gate of right goodness. In all the four great continents under Heaven, there is nothing—astronomy, geography, people, birds and beasts, flowers and trees, vessels and implements, the affairs of men—that they do not record. Since you have come from afar, I meant to give you the whole to take away. But the people of that region are foolish and stubborn, slandering the true words, not knowing the profound meaning of our school." He called: "Ananda, Kasyapa, you two lead these four to the foot of the Jeweled Tower, and first serve them a vegetarian meal. When the meal is done, open the Treasure Hall, and from within the thirty-five sections of the scriptures of my Three Stores, select a few scrolls from each and give them to him, that he may transmit them to the Eastern Land and spread the vast grace forever."
The two venerable ones, receiving the Buddha's decree, led the four pilgrims to the foot of the tower, where there was no end to the rare treasures and wonders laid out in endless array. And there the gods who served the offerings set out the vegetarian banquet—all of it immortal fare, immortal dishes, immortal tea, immortal fruit, a hundred delicacies, unlike anything in the mortal world. Master and disciples bowed their heads in thanks for the Buddha's grace, and then ate as their hearts pleased. Truly:
Blazing flames and golden light dazzle the eye; Strange fragrances and rare dainties are the more exquisite. The thousand-tiered golden pavilions are of endless beauty; A stream of celestial music comes clear to the ear. The vegetarian delights and immortal flowers are rarely seen by man; The fragrant tea and strange foods bring everlasting life. Having suffered a thousand hardships on the road, Today he enjoys this splendor, rejoicing that the Way is achieved.
This was a real windfall for Bajie and a stroke of luck for the Sha Monk: the food of the Buddha's own place, the fare of eternal life and casting off the mortal frame, was theirs to enjoy to the full. When the two venerable ones had finished accompanying the four pilgrims at the meal, they went into the Treasure Hall, opened the doors, and climbed up to look. There, auspicious light and blessed vapor shrouded it in a thousand layers; colored mists and lucky clouds veiled it in ten thousand belts. On the scripture chests, outside the jeweled cases, were pasted red labels, with the names of the scriptures written in regular script. They were: the Nirvana Sutra, one section of seven hundred and forty-eight scrolls; the Bodhisattva Sutra, one section of one thousand and twenty-one scrolls; the Akasagarbha Sutra, one section of four hundred scrolls; the Surangama Sutra, one section of one hundred and ten scrolls; the Sutra of Grace and Good Intent, Great Collection, one section of fifty scrolls; the Sutra of Determination, one section of one hundred and forty scrolls; the Sutra of the Precious Treasury, one section of forty-five scrolls; the Flower Garland Sutra, one section of five hundred scrolls; the Sutra of Worshiping the True Thusness, one section of ninety scrolls; the Great Prajnaparamita Sutra, one section of nine hundred and sixteen scrolls; the Great Light Sutra, one section of three hundred scrolls; the Sutra of the Never-Before-Had, one section of one thousand one hundred and ten scrolls; the Vimalakirti Sutra, one section of one hundred and seventy scrolls; the Separate Sutra of the Three Treatises, one section of two hundred and seventy scrolls; the Diamond Sutra, one section of one hundred scrolls; the Sutra of the Discourse on the True Dharma, one section of one hundred and twenty scrolls; the Sutra of the Buddha's Acts, one section of eight hundred scrolls; the Sutra of the Five Dragons, one section of thirty-two scrolls; the Sutra of the Bodhisattva Precepts, one section of one hundred and sixteen scrolls; the Great Collection Sutra, one section of one hundred and thirty scrolls; the Magadha Sutra, one section of three hundred and fifty scrolls; the Lotus Sutra, one section of one hundred scrolls; the Yogacara Sutra, one section of one hundred scrolls; the Sutra of the Precious Constant, one section of two hundred and twenty scrolls; the Sutra of the Western Heaven Discourse, one section of one hundred and thirty scrolls; the Samghata Sutra, one section of one hundred and fifty-seven scrolls; the Miscellaneous Sutras of Buddha Lands, one section of one thousand nine hundred and fifty scrolls; the Sutra of the Awakening of Faith, one section of one thousand scrolls; the Great Treatise on the Perfection of Wisdom, one section of one thousand and eighty scrolls; the Sutra of Precious Might, one section of one thousand two hundred and eighty scrolls; the Sutra of the Fundamental Pavilion, one section of eight hundred and fifty scrolls; the Sutra of the True Vinaya Texts, one section of two hundred scrolls; the Great Peacock Sutra, one section of two hundred and twenty scrolls; the Sutra of the Discourse on Consciousness Only, one section of one hundred scrolls; the Sutra of the Kosha Treatise, one section of two hundred scrolls.
Ananda and Kasyapa led Tang Sanzang through the whole list of scripture names, and then said to him: "Holy sage, coming from the Eastern Land to this place, what gift have you brought for us? Bring it out quickly, that we may give you the scriptures to take away."
Hearing this, Sanzang said: "Your disciple Xuanzang has come from so far away that he has brought nothing with him."
The two venerable ones laughed: "Very good, very good! If scriptures are given away for nothing to be passed down through the ages, then the generations after us will starve to death!"
Seeing them bargaining and reluctant to part with the scriptures, the Pilgrim could no longer contain himself and burst out: "Master, let us go and tell the Tathagata—let him come and give the scriptures to Old Sun himself!"
"Stop your shouting!" said Ananda. "What place do you think this is, that you can run wild and play the rogue here! Come over here and take the scriptures." Bajie and the Sha Monk, restraining their tempers, pacified the Pilgrim, and turned back to take the scriptures.
Scroll after scroll was packed into the bundle and loaded onto the horse, and two more loads were tied up, which Bajie and the Sha Monk carried. Then they came before the jeweled throne, knocked their heads in thanks to the Tathagata, and went straight out the door. At every Buddha they met they bowed twice; at every Bodhisattva they saw they bowed twice. When they reached the great gate, they bowed to the monks and nuns, the upasikas and upasakas, taking their leave of one and all, and then went down the mountain and took to the road—but of that no more.
Now there was on the Treasure Hall an Ancient Buddha Dipamkara, the Lamp-Lighting Buddha, who, hidden on the upper story, had listened silently to the business of transmitting the scriptures. Understanding it all, he knew that Ananda and Kasyapa had passed on the wordless scriptures, and laughed to himself: "The monks of the Eastern Land are foolish and benighted, and do not know the value of the wordless scriptures—but will they not have wasted all this holy sage's toil in coming?" He asked: "Who is at my side?" The Venerable Bai Xiong stepped out.
The Ancient Buddha charged him: "Raise your divine might, catch up with the monk of Tang as fast as a shooting star, and seize the wordless scriptures from him. Tell him to come back and ask for the true scriptures with words."
The Venerable Bai Xiong at once mounted a wild wind and rolled out beyond the mountain gate of the Thunderclap Monastery, displaying his mighty power. That wind was truly a thing to see:
A warrior before the Buddha, no mere wind god of Xun! From immortal caves it howled in fury, Far outdoing the blustering Maiden of the Wind. At this gust, fish and dragons all lost their caves; Rivers and seas ran counter to their waves. The black ape with his fruit could hardly come to offer it; The yellow crane turned back amid the clouds to find its old nest. The red phoenix's clear note sang no longer sweet; The golden pheasant's call turned to a raucous clatter. Green pine boughs snapped; udumbara blossoms scattered. Bamboo after bamboo of emerald green fell down; Lotus after lotus of gold rocked and swayed. The bell's sound carried three thousand li afar; The scripture's tones drifted lightly over ten thousand ravines. Beneath the cliffs the rare flowers lost their beauty; By the roadside the jade grasses bowed their fresh young shoots. The colored simurgh could not spread its wings to dance; The white deer hid away among the mountain crags. Boundless strange fragrance filled the universe; Pure clear wind pierced to the highest clouds.
The elder of Tang was walking along when suddenly he smelled the rolling fragrant wind and took it only for an auspicious sign from the Buddha, and so was not on his guard. Then he heard a sound—and a hand reached down from midair and snatched the scriptures from the horse's back. Sanzang was so frightened that he beat his breast and shouted, Bajie rolled along the ground in pursuit, the Sha Monk guarded the load of scriptures, and Sun Wukong shot after the thief like flying. When the Venerable Bai Xiong saw the Pilgrim close on his heels, fearing that the cudgel might have no eyes and, in a moment of confusion, not distinguishing friend from foe, might wound his body, he tore the scripture bundle to pieces and flung it down into the dust.
When the Pilgrim saw the bundle burst open, and the scrolls blown scattering by the fragrant wind, he pressed down his cloud and, caring more for the scriptures than for the pursuit, did not chase after the thief. The Venerable Bai Xiong gathered in his wind and mist and went back to report to the Ancient Buddha—but of that no more.
Bajie, in his pursuit, saw the scriptures falling, and came back with the Pilgrim to gather them up, shoulder them, and bring them to see the master. Tang Sanzang, his eyes full of tears, said: "Disciples! Even in this realm of utmost bliss, there are vicious demons who work harm!" The Sha Monk took the scattered scrolls the Pilgrim was holding, opened one to look, and saw that it was snow-white, without the least trace of any character. He hurriedly handed it to Sanzang: "Master, this scroll has no words." The Pilgrim opened another scroll to look—it too had no words. Bajie opened a scroll—no words either. Sanzang cried: "Open them all and look!" And every scroll was blank white paper.
The elder sighed long and deep: "The people of our Eastern Land are indeed without good fortune! What use are such wordless empty books taken back? How would I dare face the king of Tang? The crime of deceiving the sovereign would deserve no pardon!"
The Pilgrim knew the truth of it already, and said to Tang Sanzang: "Master, there's no need to say more. It's that fellow Ananda—and Kasyapa—asking us for a gift. When we had none to give, they gave us these blank paper books. Let's hurry back and make our complaint before the Tathagata, and ask him to punish their crime of holding back the scriptures for bribes!"
"Exactly! Exactly!" yelled Bajie. "Let's go and sue them!" The four pilgrims hurried back up the mountain in no fine strides, and in their haste soon climbed again to the Thunderclap.
Before long they were outside the mountain gate, and the crowds folded their hands in welcome, laughing: "Have the holy sages come to exchange the scriptures?"
Sanzang nodded and gave his thanks. The Vajra Guardians did not bar their way, but let them go in, straight to the front of the Great Hall of the Mighty One. The Pilgrim shouted: "Tathagata! My master and disciples have suffered ten thousand stings and a thousand demons, ten thousand hardships and a thousand toils, and have come from the Eastern Land to worship at this place. When you were so good as to command the scriptures to be given us, Ananda and Kasyapa, not getting their bribe, joined in fraud and deliberately gave us blank paper books without a word. What use have we for them? We beg the Tathagata to punish them!"
The Buddha smiled: "Hold your shouting for a while. That they asked you for a gift, I know already. But scriptures may not be given lightly, nor taken for nothing. In former times, when the holy monks and arhats came down from the mountain, they recited these scriptures once in the house of the Elder Zhao in the Kingdom of Shravasti, ensuring the safety of the living of that house and the deliverance of the dead, and all they got for it was three pecks and three pints of rice-grain gold. I said they had sold them too cheap, so that the sons and grandsons of later ages would have no money to use. Now you have come with empty hands to take them, and so the blank books were given. The blank books are the wordless true scriptures, and they are good in their way. But because the living beings of your Eastern Land are foolish and benighted and cannot awaken to them, this is the only way they could be transmitted." He at once called: "Ananda, Kasyapa, quickly take a few scrolls from each section of the true scriptures with words and give them to him, and come here and report the count."
The two venerable ones led the four pilgrims again to the foot of the Jeweled Tower and the Treasure Hall, and there again asked the monk of Tang for a gift. Sanzang had nothing to offer. He ordered the Sha Monk to bring out the purple-gold begging bowl, and held it up with both hands: "Your disciple is truly poor and the road was long, and I have brought no gift. This bowl was bestowed on me with the Tang emperor's own hand, that I might hold it and beg for my food along the way. I now offer it up in special token of my humble heart. I beg the venerable ones not to despise it or think it unworthy, but to accept it; and when I return to court and report to the king of Tang, there shall surely be rich thanks besides. Only grant us the true scriptures with words, so that the intention of the imperial commission and the toils of this long journey may not be in vain."
Ananda took the bowl, smiling faintly. And he was taunted by the mighty guardians in charge of the Jeweled Tower, the cooks of the fragrant kitchen, and the venerable ones who watched over the halls—one wiped his face, another slapped his back, some flicked his ear, some pursed their lips at him—all laughing: "Shameless! Shameless! Extorting a gift for giving scriptures!" In a moment his face was puckered with shame, but he still kept hold of the bowl and would not let it go.
Only then did Kasyapa go into the hall to select the scriptures, checking off each one as he handed it to Sanzang, who called: "Disciples, look at every one of them carefully, and don't let it be as it was before." His three companions took each scroll, examined each scroll, and they all had words. In this way were transmitted five thousand and forty-eight scrolls—the number of one complete canon. They were packed up neatly and loaded onto the horse, while the remainder filled another load, which Bajie carried; and the Sha Monk carried their own luggage.
The Pilgrim led the horse; Tang Sanzang took his staff, pressed down his vairochana cap, and shook out his brocade cassock, and then, joyful and delighted, came before our Buddha the Tathagata. Truly:
The true scriptures of the great canon are sweet to the taste, Made by the Tathagata with great care and rigor. Think how Xuanzang toiled up the mountain, While Ananda, the jest of it, was greedy for money. The first time, unexamined, the fault was the Ancient Buddha's; The second time, with the true text, all was at peace at last. Now, triumphant, he bears them to the Eastern Land, Where all the multitude shall share the dew of grace.
Ananda and Kasyapa led Tang Sanzang before the Tathagata. The Tathagata, high on his lotus throne, commanded the two great arhats Subduer of Dragons and Subduer of Tigers to strike the cloud-shaped gong, and to invite far and wide the three thousand Buddhas, the three thousand guardians, the eight Vajras, the four Bodhisattvas, the five hundred arhats, the eight hundred monks, and all the upasakas, nuns, and upasikas, of every heaven and every cave, of all the blessed lands of Spirit Mountain, the great and small venerable ones and holy monks—those who should sit were asked to mount their jeweled thrones, and those who should stand ranged themselves in attendance on either side. In a moment celestial music was heard from afar, immortal tones rang clear and bright, auspicious light gathered layer upon layer throughout the sky, and blessed vapor massed in fold upon fold, as all the Buddhas assembled and paid their respects to the Tathagata.
The Tathagata asked: "Ananda, Kasyapa, how many scrolls of scripture have you given him? Report the count one by one."
The two venerable ones then opened their report: "To the Tang empire we have given in all: the Nirvana Sutra, four hundred scrolls; the Bodhisattva Sutra, three hundred and sixty scrolls; the Akasagarbha Sutra, twenty scrolls; the Surangama Sutra, thirty scrolls; the Sutra of Grace and Good Intent, Great Collection, forty scrolls; the Sutra of Determination, forty scrolls; the Sutra of the Precious Treasury, twenty scrolls; the Flower Garland Sutra, eighty-one scrolls; the Sutra of Worshiping the True Thusness, thirty scrolls; the Great Prajnaparamita Sutra, six hundred scrolls; the Sutra of the Golden Light, fifty scrolls; the Sutra of the Never-Before-Had, five hundred and fifty scrolls; the Vimalakirti Sutra, thirty scrolls; the Separate Sutra of the Three Treatises, forty-two scrolls; the Diamond Sutra, one scroll; the Sutra of the Discourse on the True Dharma, twenty scrolls; the Sutra of the Buddha's Acts, one hundred and sixteen scrolls; the Sutra of the Five Dragons, twenty scrolls; the Sutra of the Bodhisattva Precepts, sixty scrolls; the Great Collection Sutra, thirty scrolls; the Magadha Sutra, one hundred and forty scrolls; the Lotus Sutra, ten scrolls; the Yogacara Sutra, thirty scrolls; the Sutra of the Precious Constant, one hundred and seventy scrolls; the Sutra of the Western Heaven Discourse, thirty scrolls; the Samghata Sutra, one hundred and ten scrolls; the Miscellaneous Sutras of Buddha Lands, one thousand six hundred and thirty-eight scrolls; the Sutra of the Awakening of Faith, fifty scrolls; the Great Treatise on the Perfection of Wisdom, ninety scrolls; the Sutra of Precious Might, one hundred and forty scrolls; the Sutra of the Fundamental Pavilion, fifty-six scrolls; the Sutra of the True Vinaya Texts, ten scrolls; the Great Peacock Sutra, fourteen scrolls; the Sutra of the Discourse on Consciousness Only, ten scrolls; the Sutra of the Kosha Treatise, ten scrolls. The scriptures kept in our treasury, thirty-five sections in all, have been drawn from section by section to the number of five thousand and forty-eight scrolls, given to the holy sage of the Eastern Land to transmit and keep in Tang. They are now all packed and stowed upon the men, the horse, and the loads, and we wait only for the thanks of his grace."
The four pilgrims tethered the horse and set down the loads, and pressed their palms together and bowed, facing the throne. The Tathagata said to the monk of Tang: "The merit of these scriptures is beyond all measure. Though they are the mirror of our school, they are in truth the fountainhead of the three teachings. When they reach your Southern Continent of Jambudvipa and are shown to all living beings, they must not be treated lightly. Unless one has bathed and fasted, one must not open the scrolls. Treasure them and honor them! For within them is the subtle secret of becoming immortal and attaining the Way, and the wondrous recipe for bringing forth the transformations of all things."
Sanzang knocked his head in thanks for the grace, accepted them in faith and held them in practice, and once more made the full three circuits of worship before the Buddha, and, in reverent submission, took the scriptures and went. When they reached the third mountain gate, they thanked all the holy beings one by one—but of that no more.
Only after the Tathagata had sent the monk of Tang on his way did he dissolve the assembly of the transmission of scriptures. Then the Bodhisattva Guanyin stepped forward, pressed her palms together, and addressed the Buddha: "Your disciple, having received the golden decree in former years, went to the Eastern Land to find the scripture-seeker. Now the work is accomplished: in all it has taken fourteen years, that is five thousand and forty days—still eight days short of the number of the canon. I beg the World-Honored One to send the holy sage back to the East and return him to the West, all within eight days, so that the number of the canon may be completed; and then I shall be able to lay my golden decree at your feet and have it discharged."
The Tathagata was greatly pleased: "What you say is very fitting. I grant the discharge of the golden decree." He at once summoned the Eight Vajra Guardians and commanded them: "You must quickly exercise your divine might and carry the holy sage back to the East. When the true scriptures have been transmitted and left there, bring the holy sage straight back to the West. All must be done within eight days, to complete the number of one canon. Be not slow or disobedient."
The Vajras at once caught up with the monk of Tang and called: "Scripture-seeker, follow me!" Tang Sanzang and the others, light of body and brisk of spirit, floated and drifted up into the clouds with the Vajras. This is truly:
Seeing his nature and clarifying his mind, he paid his respects to the Buddha; Merit accomplished and practice complete, he flew aloft at once.
If you do not know how the transmission fared when they returned to the Eastern Land, listen to the explanation in the next chapter.