The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2 (57 page)

    
Freely and gladly left the lotus seat

    
And walked up the rocky cliff with scented steps.

    
Since the holy monk was threatened with harm,

    
She would subdue the fiend and give him help.

Highly pleased, the Great Sage Sun followed Guanyin out of the Tidal Sound Cave, as the various devas stood at attention on the Potalaka Peak. “Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “let’s cross the ocean.” Pilgrim bowed and said, “Let the Bodhisattva go first.” “You go first,” said the Bodhisattva. Kowtowing, Pilgrim said, “Your disciple dares not display his power before the Bodhisattva. If I use the cloud somersault, my clothes may flip up and reveal my body, and I fear that the Bodhisattva will take offense at my irreverence.”

When the Bodhisattva heard these words, she told the Dragon Girl Skilled in Wealth to pick from the lotus pond one petal of lotus flower and drop it into the ocean below the mountain ridge. Then she said to Pilgrim, “Get up on that lotus flower petal and I’ll send you across the ocean.” Seeing the flower, Pilgrim said, “Bodhisattva, this petal of flower is so light and thin. How could it bear me up? I’ll tumble into the water for sure, and won’t my tiger-skin kilt be soaked? If it loses its tan, how can I wear it when the weather turns cold?” “Get up there and see what happens!” shouted the Bodhisattva. Not daring to disobey, Pilgrim risked his life and jumped onto the flower. At first, it did seem rather light and small, but when he alighted on it, he found that the flower was actually somewhat larger than a small boat. Delighted, Pilgrim said, “Bodhisattva, it should hold me.” “In that case,” said the Bodhisattva, “why can’t you cross the ocean?” Pilgrim said, “There is neither pole nor oar, neither sail nor mast. How could I cross the ocean?” “No need for that,” said the Bodhisattva, who blew a mouthful of air lightly onto the lotus flower and immediately it drifted away from
the
shore. Another breath of the Bodhisattva sent Pilgrim across the bitter sea of the Southern Ocean
⁷
until he reached the other shore. When his feet touched solid ground again, Pilgrim laughed and said, “This Bodhisattva truly knows how to display her powers! She’s able to summon old Monkey hither and thither with no effort at all!”

The Bodhisattva then gave instructions for all the devas each to stand guard in his station, and for the Dragon Girl Skilled in Wealth to shut the gate of the cave. Mounting the auspicious cloud, she departed from the Potalaka Peak. When she reached the backside of the mountain, she called out, “Hui’an, where are you?” Hui’an, you see, whose common name was Mok
ṣ
a, happened to be the second prince of the Pagoda Bearer Devarāja Li, and he, as the pupil taught personally by the Bodhisattva, never strayed from her side. His name was Disciple Hui’an, the Dharma Guardian. Pressing his hands together before him, Hui’an bowed to the Bodhisattva, who said to him, “Go quickly to the Region Above and borrow the Swords of Constellations from your Father King.” “How many swords do you want, Teacher?” asked Hui’an. “The entire set,” said the Bodhisattva.

Obeying her command, Hui’an mounted the clouds and went through the South Heaven Gate to reach the Palace of Cloudy Towers. He kowtowed to his Father King, who asked him, “Why has my son come here?” Mok
ṣ
a replied, “Sun Wukong came to ask my teacher to subdue a fiend; she in turn told your child to borrow the Swords of Constellations from Father King.” The devarāja at once asked Na
ṭ
a to take out the swords, all thirty-six of them, to hand over to Mok
ṣ
a, who said to Na
ṭ
a, “Brother, please go and bow to mother. I have urgent business; when I return the swords, I shall kowtow to her then.” They parted hurriedly; Mok
ṣ
a mounted the auspicious luminosity and returned to South Sea, where he presented the swords to the Bodhisattva.

After she received them, the Bodhisattva threw them into the air as she recited a spell: the swords were transformed into a thousand-leaf lotus platform. Leaping up, the Bodhisattva sat solemnly in the middle. On one side, Pilgrim snickered to himself, “This Bodhisattva is so prudent and penurious! In that pond of hers she has her own five-colored treasure lotus platform, but she can’t bear to use it. She has to borrow someone else’s things!” “Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “stop talking! Follow me!” They all mounted the clouds and left the ocean, the white cockatoo flying ahead while Great Sage Sun and Hui’an followed from behind.

In a moment, they reached the peak of a mountain. “This is the Roaring Mountain,” said Pilgrim, “and from here to the door of the monster-spirit is a distance of approximately four hundred miles.” When the Bodhisattva heard this, she lowered her auspicious cloud and recited a spell that began with the letter,
O
ṁ
. At once, various deities and demons appeared from the
left
and right of the mountain, all local spirits and mountain deities of the region. They came to kowtow before the Bodhisattva’s treasure lotus seat. “Don’t be alarmed, all of you,” said the Bodhisattva. “I’m here to seize this demon king, but I want you all to sweep this area clean. Not a single living creature is to remain within three hundred miles around here. Take the small beasts in their lairs, the young creatures in their nests, and send them up to the peak so that their lives may be preserved.” The various deities obeyed and left; they returned momentarily to report that their work was done.

The Bodhisattva said, “If the region is cleared, all of you may return to your shrines.” She turned her immaculate vase upside down and all at once a torrent of water thundered forth. Truly it

    
Surged over the summit,

    
And dashed over stone walls.

    
Surging over the summit it seemed the swelling sea;

    
Dashing over stone walls it seemed the vast ocean.

    
Black mists arose, damping the entire sky;

    
Green waves reflecting the sun beamed chilly light.

    
The whole cliff gushed jadelike sprays;

    
The whole sea sprouted gold lotus.

    
The Bodhisattva let loose her awesome might,

    
Her sleeve revealed the Dharmakāya of Chan.
⁸

    
This place was changed to Potalaka’s scene,

    
Truly a perfect image of South Sea.

    
Udumbara bloomed from lovely rushes;

    
Fresh palmyra leaves spread from scented grass.

    
On purple bamboos the cockatoo paused;

    
Amid some green pines red partridges called.

    
Waves ten thousand fold and lotus all around,

    
Hear the wind roar, the water surging up to Heav’n.

When the Great Sage Sun saw this, he marveled to himself, “Truly a Bodhisattva of great mercy and compassion! If old Monkey had this kind of dharma power, he would simply pour the little vase on the mountain. Who cares about fowls and beasts, crawling or winged creatures?” “Wukong,” cried the Bodhisattva, “stretch forth your hand.” Hurriedly rolling up his sleeve, Pilgrim stretched out his left hand. The Bodhisattva pulled out a twig of her willow branch after having dipped it in the sweet dew of her vase and wrote on his palm the word “Delusion.” She said to him, “Hold your fist and go quickly to provoke battle with the monster-spirit. You are permitted not to win but to lose; let him defeat you and chase you back here. I have my power to subdue him.”

Obeying
the instruction, Pilgrim turned his cloudy luminosity and headed straight for the entrance of the cave. Holding his left hand in a fist and the iron rod with his right, he shouted, “Fiends, open the door!” Those little fiends again went inside to report, “Pilgrim Sun is here again.” “Shut the door tightly,” said the monster king, “and don’t mind him.” “Dear boy!” shouted Pilgrim. “You chased your old man out the door, and you still wouldn’t open up!” The little fiends reported again: “Pilgrim Sun is using that little something to insult you.” All the monster said was, “Don’t listen to him!” After he had shouted for a couple of times and found the door still tightly shut, Pilgrim became enraged. He lifted the iron rod and with one blow punched a big hole in the door. The little fiends were so terrified that they ran inside, crying, “Pilgrim Sun has smashed our door!” When the monster king heard these reports and discovered that the front door was smashed, he bounded out the door and, holding the lance, yelled at Pilgrim, “You ape! You really don’t know when to stop! I let you take some advantage of me and you are still not content. You dare come again to oppress me by smashing my door. What sort of punishment should you receive?” “My child,” said Pilgrim, “you dare chase your old man out your door. What sort of punishment should
you
receive?”

Embarrassed as well as enraged, the monster king picked up his lance and stabbed at Pilgrim’s chest, who also lifted his iron rod to parry and return the blow. They fought for four or five rounds when Pilgrim, still making a fist, retreated with his rod trailing behind him. The monster king stood still before the mountain and said, “I’m going to wash and scrub the Tang Monk instead.” “My dear boy,” said Pilgrim, “Heaven is watching you! Won’t you come?” When the monster-spirit heard these words, he grew even more enraged. With a yell, he dashed before Pilgrim and attempted to stab him with the lance once more. Our Pilgrim wielded his iron rod and fought with him for several rounds before retreating again. “Monkey,” scolded the monster king, “you were able to fight before for at least twenty or thirty rounds. Why are you running away now when we are just sett ling down to do battle? Why?” “Worthy child,” said Pilgrim, chuckling, “your old man is afraid that you will start a fire!” The monster-spirit said, “I’m not going to start the fire. You come up here.” “If you are not,” said Pilgrim, “step over here. A gallant fellow should not beat up people in front of his own house.” The monster-spirit, of course, did not know that this was a trick; he lifted his lance and gave chase once more. Dragging his rod, Pilgrim opened up his left fist and the monster king was completely deluded; all he had in mind was to give chase to his adversary. The one running ahead was like a falling meteor; the one chasing from behind was like an arrow leaving the bow.

In less than a moment, they saw the Bodhisattva. Pilgrim said, “
Monster-spirit,
I’m scared of you. Let me go. You have chased me to the South Sea, the residence of the Bodhisattva Guanyin. Why aren’t you turning back?” The monster king refused to believe it; gritting his teeth, he persisted in his chase. Pilgrim, with one shake of his body, slipped into the divine luminosity that surrounded the body of the Bodhisattva and disappeared. When the monster-spirit suddenly discovered that Pilgrim was gone, he walked up to the Bodhisattva with bulging eyes and said to her, “Are you the reinforcement Pilgrim Sun brought here?” The Bodhisattva did not reply. Rolling the lance in his hands, the monster king bellowed, “Hey! Are you the reinforcement Pilgrim Sun brought here?” Still the Bodhisattva did not reply. The monster-spirit lifted his lance and jabbed at the heart of the Bodhisattva, who at once changed herself into a beam of golden light and rose into the air. Pilgrim followed her on her way up and said to her, “Bodhisattva, you are trying to take advantage of me! The monster-spirit asked you several times. How could you pretend to be deaf and dumb and not make any noise at all? One blow of his lance, in fact, chased you away, and you have even left behind your lotus platform.”

“Don’t talk,” said the Bodhisattva, “let’s see what he will do.” At this time, Pilgrim and Mok
ṣ
a both stood in the air shoulder to shoulder and stared down; they found the monster-spirit laughing scornfully and saying to himself, “Brazen ape, you’re mistaken about me! What sort of person do you think that I, Holy Child, happen to be? For several times you could not prevail against me, and then you had to go and fetch some namby-pamby Bodhisattva. One blow of my lance now has made her vanish completely. Moreover, she has even left the treasure lotus platform behind. Well, let me get up there and take a seat.” Dear monster-spirit. He imitated the Bodhisattva by sitting in the middle of the platform with hands and legs folded. When he saw this, Pilgrim said, “Fine! Fine! Fine! This lotus platform has been given to someone else!”

“Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “what are you mumbling again?”

“Mumbling what? Mumbling what?” replied Pilgrim. “I’m saying that the lotus platform has been given to someone else. Look! It’s underneath his thighs. You think he’s going to return it to you?”

“I
wanted
him to sit there,” said the Bodhisattva. “Well, he’s smaller than you,” said Pilgrim, “and it seems that the seat fits him even better than it fits you.” “Stop talking,” said the Bodhisattva, “and watch the dharma power.”

She pointed the willow twig downward and cried, “Withdraw!” All at once, flowers and leaves vanished from the lotus platform and the auspicious luminosity dispersed entirely. The monster king, you see, was sitting actually on the points of those swords. The Bodhisattva then gave this command to Mok
ṣ
a: “Use your demon-routing cudgel and strike back and forth at the sword handles.” Dropping from the clouds, Mok
ṣ
a wielded his cudgel
as if he were demolishing a wall: he struck at the handles hundreds of times. As for that monster-spirit,