The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2 (56 page)

When the monster king heard these words, he thought to himself, “My Father King has always fed on humans; that’s been his livelihood, in fact, for over a thousand years. How is it that he has taken up a vegetarian diet now? He has, after all, committed many evil acts. How could three or four days of vegetarian diet atone for them? His words make no sense! Something’s fishy!” He turned at once and walked out the second door, calling together the six mighty commanders to ask them, “Where did you find the Venerable Great King?” The little fiends said, “On our way.” “I remarked that you all returned so quickly,” said the monster king. “Didn’t you reach his house?” “No,” said the little fiends, “we did not.” “That’s bad!” said the monster king. “We have been deceived by him! This is no Venerable Great King.” All those little fiends knelt down immediately, saying, “Great King, can’t you even recognize your own father?” “The features and the gestures seem genuine,” said the monster king, “but he doesn’t talk like him. I fear that we may be deceived by him and become his victim. Take care, all of you: those who use swords unsheath your swords; those who use spears keep your spears sharp; those who use staffs and ropes have them ready. Let me question him some more and see how he talks. If indeed he is the Venerable Great King, we can wait even a month until he is pleased to eat the Tang Monk. But if his words are not right, I’ll give a yell and all of you will attack together.” The various demons obeyed.

This monster king went inside again and bowed once more to Pilgrim. “My child,” said Pilgrim, “there’s no need to stand on ceremony in the family. No need to bow to me. If you have something to say, say it.” Prostrating himself on the ground, the monster king said, “Your foolish boy invited you to come here for two reasons: first, I wanted to present to you the flesh of the Tang Monk, and second, I have a small question to ask you. Some days ago, I was taking a leisure trip; as I mounted the auspicious luminosity to rise to the Ninefold Heaven, I ran suddenly into Master Zhang Daoling, the Daoist Patriarch.”
²
“Is he the Celestial Master?” asked Pilgrim. “Yes,” said the monster king. Pilgrim said, “What did he have to say?” “When he saw how well formed my features were,” said the monster king, “and how
level
were my shoulders, he inquired after the hour, date, month, and year of my birth. Your child, however, was too young to remember the exact time. An expert in astrological divination, the Master wanted to tell my fortune through calculations based on the five planets. That is the reason why I have asked Father King to come here. Please tell me the times of my birth, so that I can ask him to tell my fortune the next time I see him.”

When Pilgrim heard these words, he sat smiling to himself, thinking, “Dear monster! Since old Monkey has returned to the Buddhist fruit, I have caught, as a guardian of Master Tang, several monster-spirits on our way, but none of them matches this one for jugglery! If he asks me about some trivial matters in the household, I can fabricate an answer with whatever comes into my mind. But now he wants to have the date, month, and year of his birth! How could I know?” Dear Monkey King! He was most resourceful indeed! Sitting augustly in the middle, he did not betray the slightest fear; instead, his face beaming with pleasure, he said, smiling, “My worthy boy, please rise. Because of my age, I have been troubled by all sorts of things of late, and I have quite forgotten the exact time of your birth. Let me ask your mother when I return home tomorrow.”

The monster king said to himself, “Father King has never stopped talking about the eight nativity characters
³
of my birth, saying that I have an age as lengthy as Heaven’s. How could he forget them today? Nonsense! He has to be false!” He gave a yell, and the various fiends rushed forward to hack at Pilgrim’s head and face with their spears and swords. Using the golden-hooped rod to parry the blows, this Great Sage changed back into his original form and said to the monster-spirit, “My worthy child! How unreasonable you are! How could a son attack his own father?” Filled with embarrassment, the monster king did not even dare look at him, as Pilgrim transformed himself into a beam of golden light and left the cave dwelling. “Great King,” said the little fiends, “Pilgrim Sun has escaped.” The monster king said, “All right, all right! Let him go! I’ll admit defeat this time! Let’s shut the door and say nothing to him. We will wash and scrub the Tang Monk so that he can be steamed and eaten.”

We now tell you about that Pilgrim who held on to his iron rod and walked toward the stream, roaring with laughter. When Sha Monk heard him, he quickly left the woods to meet him, saying, “Elder Brother, you have been gone for nearly half a day, and you have returned laughing. Could it be that you have succeeded in rescuing Master?” “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “though I have not rescued Master, I have won a round.” “What do you mean?” asked Sha Monk. Pilgrim said, “Zhu Eight Rules, you see, was tricked by that fiend, who changed himself into the form of Guanyin. He is caught and hung now in a leather bag. I was trying to devise a plan to rescue him when I heard that these so-called six mighty commanders were sent to invite
a Venerable Great King to dine on Master’s flesh. Old Monkey thought that that Great King had to be the Bull Monster King; so I changed into his form, bluffed my way in, and took the seat in the middle. The fiend called me Father King, and I answered him; he kowtowed to me, and I accepted it. It was a pleasure indeed! That was the round I won.”

“Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “the way you covet small advantages will make it difficult, I fear, for Master’s life to be preserved.” “Don’t worry,” said Pilgrim. “Let me go and ask the Bodhisattva to come here.” “But your torso is still sore,” said Sha Monk. “Not anymore!” said Pilgrim. “The ancients said, ‘A happy affair cheers one’s spirit.’ You look after the luggage and the horse; let me go.” “You’ve given that monster a grudge against you,” said Sha Monk, “and I fear that he might harm our master. Go and come back quickly.” Pilgrim said, “I’ll come back quickly all right! In the time of a meal, I’ll be back.”

Dear Great Sage! As he was speaking, he slipped away from Sha Monk; using his cloud somersault, he headed straight for the South Sea. It took him much less than half an hour in the air when he saw the scenery of the Potalaka Mountain. In a moment, he lowered his cloud and dropped down on the mountain cliff, where he was met by a group of twenty-four devas who asked, “Where are you going, Great Sage?” After Pilgrim bowed to them, he said, “I want to see the Bodhisattva.” “Wait a moment,” said the devas, “and let us announce you.” Then the deva Hāritī
⁴
went before the Cave of Tidal Sound to announce, “Let the Bodhisattva know that Sun Wukong is here to have an audience with you.” When the Bodhisattva heard the announcement, she ordered him to enter. Straightening out his attire, the Great Sage walked inside solemnly and prostrated himself before the Bodhisattva.

“Wukong, why aren’t you leading Master Gold Cicada to the West to seek scriptures?” asked the Bodhisattva. “Why are you here?”

Pilgrim said, “Permit me to make this known to the Bodhisattva. Your disciple was accompanying the Tang Monk on his journey, when we reached the Fiery Cloud Cave by the Dried Pine Stream at the Roaring Mountain. There is a monster-spirit called Red Boy, whose name is also the Great King Holy Child, and who has abducted my master. Your disciple and Zhu Wuneng found our way to his door and fought with him. He let loose his samādhi fire and we could not prevail against him nor could we rescue Master. I went swiftly to the Great Eastern Ocean and managed to return with the Dragon Kings of the Four Oceans. They gave us rainwater, but we still could not win. In fact, your disciple was burned so badly that he almost lost his life.” The Bodhisattva said, “If his is the samādhi fire and if he has such magic powers, why did you go seek the aid of the Dragon Kings? Why did
you
not come see me?” “I was about to come,” said Pilgrim, “but your disciple was badly hurt by the smoke, unable to mount the clouds. I therefore told Zhu Eight Rules to come and seek the assistance of the Bodhisattva.”

“But Wuneng never appeared,” said the Bodhisattva. “Indeed he did not reach your treasure mountain,” said Pilgrim, “for he was deceived by that monster-spirit, who changed into your image and has taken Wuneng into his cave. Right now, Wuneng is hanging in a leather bag, about to be steamed and eaten.”

Hearing this, the Bodhisattva grew terribly angry, crying, “How dare that brazen fiend change into my image!” As she cried, she flung into the ocean the immaculate porcelain vase set with precious pearls which she held in her hand. Pilgrim was so startled that his hairs stood on end, and he stood up at once to stand in waiting down below, saying to himself, “This Bodhisattva still has quite a fiery temper! Well, old Monkey should have known better than to speak like that and provoke her into ruining her virtue by smashing the immaculate vase. What a pity! What a pity! If I had known it earlier I would have asked her to give it instead to old Monkey. That would be some gift, wouldn’t it?”

Hardly had he finished speaking when the vase appeared again at the crest of some gigantic waves swelling up in the middle of the ocean. The vase, you see, was borne on the back of a strange creature, which Pilgrim stared at intently. How does this creature look?

    
The “Helper of Mud” is his primal name,

    
He adds luster to water to show his might.

    
Reclusive, he knows the laws of Heav’n and Earth;

    
Retired, he sees yet the mysteries of ghosts and gods.

    
Safely he hides once his head and tail withdraw,

    
But legs outstretched will make him fly and soar.

    
As King Wen drew trigrams and Zeng Yuan divined,

    
He frequented, too, the courtyards of Fu Xi.
⁵

    
His nature displays a thousand charms

    
When he sports and plays in the rising tide.

    
His armor’s knit by strands of golden cord;

    
Spot by spot, that’s how his shell has been adorned.

    
His robe shows Eight Trigrams and Nine Palaces,

    
And richly ornate is his gown of green.

    
Brave when he’s living—so he’s loved by Dragon Kings;

    
The Buddha’s tablet he bears e’en after death.

    
If you want to know this strange creature’s name,

    
He’s the fierce black tortoise making winds and waves.

Carrying
the vase on his back, the tortoise climbed ashore and nodded his head at the Bodhisattva twenty-four times to indicate that he had given her twenty-four bows.

When Pilgrim saw him, he smiled and thought to himself, “So the guardian of the vase is here. If the vase ever gets lost, I suppose we can ask him for it.” The Bodhisattva said, “Wukong, what are you saying down there?” “Nothing,” said Pilgrim. “Then bring the vase up here,” commanded the Bodhisattva. Pilgrim went forward at once to pick up the vase. Alas! He could not do so at all! It was as if a dragonfly attempted to rock a stone pillar—how could he even budge it? Pilgrim approached the Bodhisattva and knelt down, saying, “Your disciple cannot pick it up.”

“Monkey head,” said the Bodhisattva, “all you know is how to brag! If you can’t even pick up a small vase, how can you subdue fiends and capture monsters?” “To tell you the truth, Bodhisattva,” said Pilgrim, “I might be able to do it ordinarily, but today I just can’t pick it up. I must have been hurt by the monster-spirit, and my strength has weakened.” The Bodhisattva said, “Normally it’s an empty vase, but once it has been thrown into the ocean, it has traveled through the three rivers, the five lakes, the eight seas, and the four big rivers. It has, in fact, gathered together from all the aquatic bodies in the world an oceanful of water, which is now stored inside it. You may be strong, but you don’t possess the strength of upholding the ocean. That’s why you cannot pick up the vase.” Pressing his hands together before him, Pilgrim said, “Yes, your disciple is ignorant of this.”

Walking forward, the Bodhisattva used her right hand and picked up the immaculate vase with no effort at all and placed it on the middle of her left palm. The tortoise nodded his head again before he crawled back into the water. “So this is a coolie who serves the household and looks after the vase!” said Pilgrim. After the Bodhisattva took her seat again, she said, “Wukong, the sweet dew in my vase is not like that unauthorized rain of the Dragon Kings; it can extinguish the samādhi fire of the monster-spirit. I want you to take it with you, but you are unable to pick up the vase. I want the Dragon Girl Skilled in Wealth to go with you, but I fear that you are not a person of kindly disposition. All you know is how to hoodwink people. When you see how beautiful my Dragon Girl is, and what a treasure is my immaculate vase, you will try to steal it. If you succeed, where would I find time to go look for you? You’d better leave something behind as a pledge.”

“How pitiful!” said Pilgrim. “Bodhisattva, you are so suspicious! Since your disciple embraced complete poverty, he has never indulged in such activities. You tell me to leave a pledge, what shall I use? This silk shirt on my body is a gift from you. And this tiger-skin skirt, how much can it be worth? The iron rod—well, I need it for protection night and day. Only this little fillet on my head is made of gold, but you used some tricks to make it
grow
on my head so that it could not be taken down. If you want a pledge, I’m willing now to give that to you as a pledge. You can recite a Loose-Fillet Spell and remove it from me. Otherwise, what shall I use as a pledge?” “You are rather smug, aren’t you?” said the Bodhisattva. “I don’t want your clothes, your iron rod, or your gold fillet. Pull off one strand of that lifesaving hair behind your head and give it to me.” Pilgrim said, “These hairs were also your gift; I fear that if I pull one off, they will be broken up in such a way that they will no longer be able to save my life.” “You ape!” scolded the Bodhisattva. “You are so stingy that you won’t even uproot one hair!
⁶
That makes it difficult for me also to dispense my Goodly Wealth!” Laughing, Pilgrim said, “Bodhisattva, you are truly suspicious! But as the saying goes, ‘If you don’t have regard for the monk, at least have regard for the Buddha.’ I beg you to save my master from his ordeal.” Then the Bodhisattva