The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2 (11 page)

    
At Long Life Mountain’s cave-heaven of old,

    
Ginseng fruits ripen every nine thousand years.

    
The spirit root exposed, hurting twigs and shoots;

    
The sweet dew revives, fruits and leaves made whole.

    
Three Elders gladly meet all these old chums;

    
The four monks find by luck friends foreordained.

    
Now they have learned to eat the ginseng fruits;

    
They’ll all be immortals who never age.

Presently the Bodhisattva and the Three Elders each ate a fruit. Finally convinced that this was a treasure of the immortals, the Tang Monk also ate one. Each of the three disciples also ate one, and Master Zhenyuan himself took one to keep his guests company. The last one of the fruits was divided among the other residents of the Abbey. Pilgrim thanked the Bodhisattva and the Three Stars, who went back to the Potalaka Mountain and Penglai Island, respectively. Master Zhenyuan also prepared some vegetarian wine for a banquet, during which he and Pilgrim became bond-brothers. As the proverb says,

    
Without fighting they would not know each other;

    
But now the two parties have become one household.

Happily, master and disciples spent a restful night there. Thus it was with that Elder, who was

    
Lucky to have tasted the grass of reverted cinnabar;

    
His long life would endure the ordeals of ogres.

We do not know how they will part the following day; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

TWENTY-
SEVEN

The cadaver demon three times mocks Tripitaka Tang;

The holy monk in spite banishes Handsome Monkey King.

We were telling you about Tripitaka and his disciples, who made preparations to leave the next morning. Our Master Zhenyuan, however, had become such a fast friend of Pilgrim since the two were made bond-brothers that he refused to let them leave. He gave orders instead that they should be feted for five or six days. Ever since he took the grass of the reverted cinnabar, the elder’s spirit had been strengthened and his body made healthier; he felt as if his entire physical frame had been renewed. As he was intent on acquiring the scriptures, he refused to stay, and so they departed.

After taking their leave, master and disciples took to the road and soon came upon a tall mountain. “Disciples,” said Tripitaka, “the mountain ahead appears to be rugged and steep, and I fear that the horse may not be able to proceed so easily. Every one of you should be careful.” “Have no fear, Master,” said Pilgrim. “We know how to take care of everything.” Dear Monkey King! He led the way; carrying his rod horizontally across both his shoulders, he opened up a mountain path and led them up to a tall cliff. They saw

    
Peaks and summits in rows;

    
Streams and canyons meandrous;

    
Tigers and wolves running in packs;

    
Deer and fallow deer walking in flocks;

    
Countless musks and boars massed together;

    
A mountain swarming with foxes and hares.

    
The huge python of a thousand feet;

    
The long snake of ten thousand feet.

    
The huge python blew out awful mists;

    
The long snake belched dreadful air.

    
By the road thorns and thistles sprawled unending;

    
On the peak pines and cedars grew resplendent.

    
Wild hemps and creepers filled their eyes;

    
Fragrant plants reached up to the sky.

    
Light descended from the northern pole;

    
Clouds parted at the south pole star.

    
Ten thousand fathoms of mountain holding old, primal breath;

    
A thousand peaks stood august in the cold sunlight.

The
elder on the horse became fearful, but our Great Sage Sun was ready to show off his abilities. Wielding the iron rod, he let out such a fearful cry that wolves and serpents retreated, that tigers and leopards took flight. Master and disciples thus journeyed into the mountain. As they reached the summit, Tripitaka said, “Wukong, we’ve been traveling for almost a day, and I’m getting hungry. Go somewhere and beg some vegetarian food for me.” “Master, you aren’t very smart!” said Pilgrim, attempting to placate him with a smile. “We are in the middle of a mountain, with no village in sight ahead of us nor any inn behind us. Even if we had money, there’s no place for us to buy anything. Where do you want me to go to find vegetarian food?” Irritated, Tripitaka began to berate his disciple. “You ape!” he cried. “Don’t you remember what sort of condition you were in at the Mountain of Two Frontiers? Pinned down by Tathāgata in that stone box, you could move your mouth but not your feet, and you owed it to me for saving your life. Now that you have become my disciple by having your head touched and receiving the commandments, why are you not willing to exert yourself a bit more? Why are you always so lazy?” “Your disciple,” said Pilgrim, “has been rather diligent. Since when have I been lazy?” “If you are that diligent,” said Tripitaka, “why don’t you go and beg me some vegetarian food? How can I journey if I am hungry? Moreover, this mountain is filled with pestilential vapors, and if I become ill, how can I hope to reach Thunderclap?” “Master,” said Pilgrim, “please don’t get upset. No more words. I know that yours is a proud and haughty nature. A little offense and you will recite that little something spell! Dismount and rest awhile. Let me find out whether there’s any family for me to beg some vegetarian food.”

With a bound, Pilgrim leaped up to the edge of the clouds. Using his hand to shade his eyes, he peered all around. Alas! The journey to the West was a lonely journey, one with neither villages nor hamlets. There were abundant trees and shrubbery, but there was no sign of human habitation. Having looked around for some time, Pilgrim saw toward the south a tall mountain, where on the eastern slope there seemed to be some tiny specks of red. Lowering his cloud, Pilgrim said, “Master, there’s something to eat.” The elder asked what it was, and Pilgrim said, “There’s no household here for me to beg for rice. But there’s a stretch of red on a mountain south of here, and I suppose that must be ripe mountain peaches. Let me go and pick a few for you to eat.” Delighted, Tripitaka said, “For a person who has left the family to have peaches is already the highest blessing!” Pilgrim took the alms bowl and mounted the auspicious luminosity. Look at that brilliant somersault, with cold vapor trailing! In an instant, he was heading straight for the peaches on the south mountain, and we shall speak no more of him for the moment.

Now, the proverb says:

    
A
tall mountain will always have monsters;

    
A rugged peak will always produce fiends.

In this mountain there was indeed a monster-spirit, who was disturbed by the Great Sage Sun’s departure. Treading dark wind, she came through the clouds and found the elder sitting on the ground. “What luck! What luck!” she said, unable to contain her delight. “For several years my relatives have been talking about a Tang Monk from the Land of the East going to fetch the Great Vehicle. He is actually the incarnation of the Gold Cicada, and he has the original body that has gone through the process of self-cultivation during ten previous existences. If a man eats a piece of his flesh, his age will be immeasurably lengthened. So, this monk has at last arrived today!” The monster was about to go down to seize Tripitaka when she saw two great warriors standing guard on either side of the elder, and that stopped her from drawing near. Now, who could these warriors be, you ask? They were, of course, Eight Rules and Sha Monk. Eight Rules and Sha Monk, you see, might not have great abilities, but after all, Eight Rules was the Marshal of Heavenly Reeds and Sha Monk was the Great Curtain-Raising Captain. Their authority had not been completely eroded, and that was why the monster dared not approach them. Instead, the monster said to herself, “Let me make fun of them a bit, and see what happens.”

Dear monster! She lowered her dark wind into the field of the mountain, and, with one shake of her body, she changed into a girl with a face like the moon and features like flowers. One cannot begin to describe the bright eyes and the elegant brows, the white teeth and the red lips. Holding in her left hand a blue sandstone pot and in her right a green porcelain vase, she walked from west to east, heading straight for the Tang Monk.

    
The sage monk resting his horse on the cliff

    
Saw all at once a young girl drawing near:

    
Slender hands hugged by gently swaying green sleeves;

    
Tiny feet exposed beneath a skirt of Hunan silk.

    
Perspiring her face seemed flower bedewed;

    
Dust grazed her moth-brows like willows held by mist.

    
And as he stared intently with his eyes,

    
She seemed to be walking right up to his side.

When Tripitaka saw her, he called out, “Eight Rules, Sha Monk, just now Wukong said that this is an uninhabited region. But isn’t that a human being who is walking over there?” “Master,” said Eight Rules, “you sit here with Sha Monk. Let old Hog go take a look.” Putting down his muckrake and pulling down his shirt, our Idiot tried to affect the airs of a gentleman and went to meet her face to face. Well, it was as the proverb says:

    
You
can’t determine the truth from afar.

    
You can see clearly when you go near.

The girl’s appearance was something to behold!

    
Ice-white skin hides jadelike bones;

    
Her collar reveals a milk-white bosom.

    
Willow brows gather dark green hues;

    
Almond eyes shine like silver stars.

    
Her features like the moon are coy;

    
Her natural disposition is pure.

    
Her body’s like the willow-nested swallow;

    
Her voice’s like the woods’ singing oriole.

    
A half-opened haitong
¹
caressed by the morning sun.

    
A newly bloomed peony displaying her charm.

When Idiot saw how pretty she was, his worldly mind was aroused and he could not refrain from babbling. “Lady Bodhisattva!” he cried. “Where are you going? What’s that you are holding in your hands?” This was clearly a fiend, but he could not recognize her! The girl immediately answered him, saying, “Elder, what I have in the blue pot is fragrant rice made from wine cakes, and there’s fried wheat gluten in the green vase. I came here for no other reason than to redeem my vow of feeding monks.” When Eight Rules heard these words, he was very pleased. Spinning around, he ran like a hog maddened by plague to report to Tripitaka, crying, “Master! ‘The good man will have Heaven’s reward!’ Because you are hungry, you ask Elder Brother to go beg for some vegetarian food. But we really don’t know where that ape has gone to pick his peaches and have his fun! If you eat too many peaches, you are liable to feel a bit stuffed and gaseous anyway! Take a look instead. Isn’t that someone coming to feed the monks?” “Coolie, you’re just clowning!” said an unbelieving Tang Monk. “We’ve been traveling all this time and we haven’t even run into a healthy person! Where is this person who’s coming to feed the monks?” “Master,” said Eight Rules, “isn’t this the one?”

When Tripitaka saw the girl, he jumped up and folded his hands. “Lady Bodhisattva,” he said, “where is your home? What sort of family is yours? What kind of vow have you made that you have to come here to feed the monks?” This was clearly a fiend, but our elder could not recognize her either! When that monster heard the Tang Monk asking after her background, she at once resorted to falsehood. With clever, specious words, she tried to deceive her interrogator, saying, “Master, this mountain, which turns back serpents and frightens wild beasts, bears the name of White Tiger. My home is located due west of here. My parents, still living, are frequent
readers of sūtras and keen on doing good works. They have fed liberally the monks who come to us from near and far. Because my parents had no son, they prayed to the gods, and I was born. They would have liked to marry me off to a noble family, but, wary of helplessness in their old age, they took in a son-in-law instead, so that they would be cared for in life and death.” Hearing this, Tripitaka said, “Lady Bodhisattva, your speech is rather improper! The sage classic says, ‘While father and mother are alive, one does not travel abroad; or if one does, goes only to a proper destination.’
²
If your parents are still living, and if they have taken in a husband for you, then your man should have been the one sent to redeem your vow. Why do you walk about the mountain all by yourself? You don’t even have an attendant to accompany you. That’s not very becoming of a woman!”