Monkey (14 page)

‘Very well, then,’ said the Bodhisattva, delighted. ‘Wait while I go to the land of T’ang and find my scripture-seeker. He shall deliver you. You shall be his disciple and embrace our Faith.’

‘With all my heart,’ said Monkey.

‘In that case,’ said Kuan-yin, ‘you will have to have a name in religion.’

‘I’ve got one,’ said Monkey. ‘I am called Aware-of-Vacuity.’

‘In that case,’ said Kuan-yin, ‘there is nothing more I need tell you at present. I must be going.’

They left Monkey and went on eastwards. In a few days they reached the land of T’ang, and soon came to the city of Ch’ang-an, where they changed themselves into shabby wandering priests, and coming to the shrine of a local deity in one of the main streets, they went straight in. The deity and his attendant demons recognized Kuan-yin at once, despite her disguise, and welcomed her with a great flurry of bowings and scrapings. Then he sent word to the god of the Municipal Shrine, and all the temples in Ch’ang-an, informing the gods that the Bodhisattva had arrived. Presently they all came tramping along, begging to be excused for not having come to meet her. ‘This must not get out,’ she
said. ‘I am here completely incognito. I have come by Buddha’s orders to look for someone to bring the scriptures from India. I should like to put up for a day or two in one of your temples, and as soon as I have found my pilgrim I shall leave.’

The gods then all retired to their temples, Kuan-yin and Hui-yen putting up for the time being in the shrine of the Municipal God, where they passed for a couple of ordinary priests.

If you do not know whom they found to fetch scriptures, you must listen to what is told in the next chapter.

T
HE
great city of Ch’ang-an had from generation to generation been the capital of all China. At this time it was T’ai Tsung of the dynasty of T’ang who was on the throne. The whole land was at peace, tribute-bearers poured in from every side, and the whole world paid homage to him. One day, when he was receiving all his ministers at Court, the Prime Minister Wei Cheng submitted the following proposal: ‘Now that the Empire is everywhere at peace, let us conform with the ancient custom and invite scholars from every quarter to come for examination, that your Majesty may have talent to assist you in your work of government.’ The proposal was accepted, and a summons, sent all over China, invited any that were learned in books, no matter whether they were soldiers or peasants, to come to the Capital and attend an examination.

When the summons reached Hai-chou a certain Ch’en O who lived in those parts went straight home and said to his mother, ‘It is announced that an examination is to be held in order to pick out men of talent, and I intend to respond. One never knows; I may succeed in getting some little job or other, which will make me more of a credit to my parents and enable me to support a family. That is all I desire. I have come to tell you of my departure.’

‘My son,’ she said, ‘you are a well-read man. “Learn when young, act when grown.” You are quite right to go. All I beg is that you will take care of yourself on the journey, and come back as soon as you have secured a post.’

Ch’en then ordered his servant to put together his things, and saying farewell to his mother he hurried to the capital. When he arrived he found that the examination had just begun, and he went straight in. He qualified in the preliminary tests and at the final Court examinations received the first place, the certificate being signed with the Emperor’s own hand. Then for three days, as the custom is, he was led
through the streets on horseback. At one point the procession passed the house of a minister called Yin K’ai-shan. This minister had an only daughter called Wen-ch’iao who was not yet married, and sat in a high, festooned tower, with an embroidered ball in her hand. The man whom this ball struck when she threw it down was to be her husband. When Ch’en was led past the tower, she saw that he was a man of fine appearance, and she knew that he had just taken the first place in the examinations. The idea of marrying him pleased her uncommonly, she threw down her ball, and it fell exactly on the middle of Ch’en’s black gauze hat. The next minute Ch’en heard a twittering of flutes and reed-organs, and down from the tower came a whole posse of maids and serving-girls, who took Ch’en’s horse by the bridle and led him into the courtyard of the minister’s house. The minister and his wife came hurrying down from the hall, calling upon all their guests and visitors to assist in the wedding ceremony. When the bridal pair had bowed to Heaven and Earth, and saluted the bride’s parents, a banquet was prepared and the whole night passed in merry-making and drinking. Then hand in hand the two of them entered the bridal chamber.

Early next morning at Audience in the Palace of Golden Bells the Emperor asked what post should be given to the first graduate. The Prime Minister replied that there was a vacancy at Chiang-chou. Ch’en was accordingly made governor of Chiang-chou and ordered to take up his duties at once. Ch’en thanked the Emperor and went back to the minister’s house to arrange things with his wife, and pay his respects to his parents-in-law. He then set out with his wife for Chiang-chou. It was late spring when he left the Capital. A gentle wind fanned the green of the willows, a fine rain stabbed the red of the flowers. Ch’ên’s way took him close to Hai-chou, and here he was able to introduce his wife to his mother.

“The power of your blessing,’ he explained to her, ‘enabled me to come out top in the examination. Being led through the streets on horseback, I happened to pass Minister Yin’s house, from which an embroidered ball fell upon me, and
I found myself invited to become his son-in-law. The Emperor has made me Governor of Chiang-chou, and I count upon you to come with us.’

His mother was delighted and set out with them at once. After travelling a few days they reached the Inn of Ten Thousand Blossoms, which was kept by a certain Liu Hsiao-erh. Here the mother suddenly became unwell, and she said to her son, ‘I am not feeling well. Let us rest here for a day or two before going on.’ Ch’en consented. Next day a man arrived at the inn with a golden coloured carp for sale. Ch’en bought it for a string of cash, thinking it would make a wholesome dish for his mother. Suddenly he noticed that the fish’s eyes flickered in a peculiar manner.

‘I have heard,’ he said, ‘that when the eyes of fish or snake flicker, one may be sure they are not ordinary creatures.’ He asked the man where the fish came from.

‘From the Hung River,’ said the man, ‘about fifteen leagues from the town.’

Ch’en accordingly had the fish put back alive into this river. When his mother heard of it she thoroughly approved.

‘To release living things,’ she said, ‘is an act of piety. I am very glad you did it.’

‘We have been here three days,’ said Ch’6n, ‘and if I do not start out again at once I shall not arrive by the appointed time. I think of starting tomorrow. Shall you be well enough by then?’

‘I am afraid not,’ said his mother. ‘It is beginning to get very hot for travelling, and I fear I should get worse. Please arrange for me to have a room here. You can leave some of the luggage, and I will follow you when the weather is cooler.’

So Ch’en hired a room for his mother, and he and his wife set off for Chiang-chou. At the crossing over the Hung River they were met by two ferrymen called Iiu and Ii whom, so it happened, Ch’ên had injured in a previous incarnation. When they were on board the boat, Liu began to stare at Ch’en’s wife, who was indeed of matchless beauty. After whispering to Li, he took the boat to a totally unfrequented spot and at dead of night first killed the servants
and next Ch’fen himself, throwing all the bodies into the river. Seeing the fate of her husband, Mrs Ch’€n tried to jump into the river. But Liu threw his arms about her and stopped her, saying, ‘Come with me, and everything will be all right. If you refuse, the same sword will serve well enough for both.’ Ch’en’s wife could think of nothing better to do than give in for the time being, and she told Liu to do with her as he would. He took the boat across to the other shore, where he left it in charge of Li, while he himself purloined Ch’en’s official robes, hat, and credentials. Then with Mrs Ch’en he set out for Chiang-chou.

The other bodies floated down stream, but Ch’en’s sank straight to the bottom and stayed there. A yaksha that was patrolling the waters saw it, and rushing off to the Dragon King’s palace announced that an unknown body, apparently that of a scholar, had been thrown into the river and was lying at the bottom. The Dragon King ordered the body to be brought to him, and at once recognized it as that of his benefactor. ‘One good deed deserves another,’ he said. ‘I must get his life back, in return for his kindness the other day.’ So he sent a yaksha to the Municipal Shrine at Hung-chou to ask for Ch’dn’s soul. The god of the shrine soon found it among those of the newly dead, and gave it to a little demon to hand over to the yaksha, who brought it back to the Dragon King in his palace. ‘Now,’ said the Dragon King, ‘perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me your name and where you come from.’ When Ch’en had told his story, the Dragon King said to him, ‘It will surprise you to learn that the golden carp which you put back in the water was I myself. Thus you are my benefactor, and it was only natural that when you got into difficulties I came to your assistance. For the present I am going to ask you to serve in my Water Bureau as an officer.’ Ch’en bowed his thanks and consent, and presently was entertained to dinner by the dragon Court.

Mrs Ch’en was so disgusted by the presence of Liu that she could neither eat nor sleep. But she remembered that she was going to have a child, and there was nothing for it but to keep going as best she could, and follow her captor. At last they reached Chiang-chou, where they were met by all the clerks
and lictors, and Liu, posing as the new governor, was entertained by his subordinates at the great official banquet. ‘My arrival here is due solely to your nattering support.’ ‘Not at all,’ they said. ‘Your entertainment is on the contrary the due reward of your exceptional talents, your parental kindness towards those who are in your charge, and your fairness in settling litigation. Pray do not be too modest!’

One day, when the counterfeit governor had gone on official business to a place some way from the city, his ‘wife’ sat in her high bower thinking sadly of her mother and husband. Suddenly a great lassitude seized her, together with sharp pains in her belly. She fell into a swoon upon the floor, and gave birth then and there to a son. At this moment a mysterious voice whispered in her ear: ‘Listen to what I am telling you. I am the lord of the Southern Pole-star. It was by command of the Bodhisattva Kuan-yin that I brought you this child. One day he will be famous throughout the world. Be sure that he is no common mortal. When Liu comes back, he will certainly try to harm this child; you must guard it with all your might. The Dragon King has your husband in his care, and in due time you are to be reunited, you, he and the child, and in due time your enemies will be punished.’ When she came to herself the visitant had departed; but she remembered every word. She clasped the child in her arms, but could think of no further way to protect it.

As soon as Liu came back and saw the child, he ordered it to be slain. She objected that it was now too late in the day, but promised to throw it into the river early in the morning. Fortunately Liu was again called away on urgent business early next day. ‘If he finds it here when he comes back,’ she said to herself, ‘he will certainly destroy it. I had better go at once and abandon it in the river, on the chance that some miracle may save it. Perhaps Heaven will take pity on it and cause someone to pass that way and save it. Who knows but that I may indeed one day see the child again ?’ But how should she recognize the child? To make sure of doing so she bit her finger and wrote a letter with her blood, naming its parentage and setting forth all its history. Then she bit off the top joint of the little toe of its left foot, that there might be no
mistake about its identity. She took her inner garment, wrapped it round the child, and when no one was looking slipped out with it into the street. Luckily the river was not far off. When she reached the river she gave one long piercing cry, and was just about to throw it in, when she saw a plank come floating along by the bank. Lifting her head and praying to Heaven, she tied the child to the plank with her sash, the blood-letter at its breast, and pushed the plank out into the river, to float where it would. Then, weeping bitterly, she returned to the town.

Meanwhile the plank floated downstream and eventually came to a standstill just opposite the Temple of the Golden Mountain. The abbot of this temple was called Fa-ming and was a man of great sanctity. He was sitting in meditation, when he suddenly heard the sound of a baby crying, and moved to pity he went down to the river bank. What should he see but a plank with an infant tied to it, lodged against the bank of the stream. He fished the plank out, and at once saw the letter, which acquainted him with the child’s origin. He named it River Float, and gave it to some peasants to bring up, himself keeping the letter safely locked away. Years slipped by, and when River Float was seventeen the abbot had him shaved and admitted into the priesthood with the name Hsiian Tsang, and Hsiian Tsang applied himself with great industry to the study of the Way.

One spring day when the priests were discussing abstract points of doctrine in the shade of some pine-trees, a doltish priest who had been downed in argument by Hsiian Tsang lost his temper and cried, ‘Who are you to lay down the law to us, you miserable animal? No one knows who you are, who were your parents or where you come froml’ Stung by this insult, Hsiian Tsang rushed to the abbot with tears in his eyes, and said, ‘You have taught me that all human beings receive their portion of
yin wnAyang
and their share of the Five Elements from a male and female parent. Can there be such a thing in the world as a man without father and mother ?’