Chapter 96

Color itself is originally without color; emptiness is also not emptiness. Stillness, noise, speech, silence—all are fundamentally the same; why labor to speak of dreams within a dream? Within usefulness, there is uselessness; within meritlessness, merit is applied. It is like when fruit is ripe, it naturally turns red; do not ask how to cultivate and plant it. Now the story tells that the Tang Monk and his disciples used their magical powers to stop the monks of the Golden Cloth Monastery. When the monks saw the black wind pass by but could not see the master and his disciples, they thought a living Buddha had descended to the mortal world. They kowtowed and returned—but no more of that. The master and his disciples journeyed westward, and it was just the season when spring ended and summer began: The clear and harmonious weather was fine, In ponds and marshes, water chestnuts and lotuses grew. Plums ripened after the rains, Wheat matured with the wind. Grass was fragrant where flowers had fallen, Orioles aged as willow branches grew light. River swallows led their fledglings in practice, Hill pheasants fed their young with calls. In the south of the Dipper, the days stretched long, All things revealed their brightness. Endless it was—breakfast at dawn, lodging at dusk, crossing ravines and following streams. On this peaceful road they traveled for half a month. Ahead, they saw a city wall drawing near. Tripitaka asked, "Disciples, what place is this?" Wukong said, "I do not know, I do not know." Bajie laughed and said, "This road you have traveled before—how can you say you do not know? This is rather suspicious; you are deliberately pretending not to recognize it to make fools of us." Wukong said, "You idiot, you have no sense at all. Though this road has been traveled several times, at that time we were only in the ninth heaven, riding clouds to come and riding clouds to go—when did we ever alight in this place? If a matter does not concern you, why investigate it? That is why I do not know. What suspicion is there, and why would I make a fool of you?" As they were speaking, before they realized it they had reached the edge of the city. Tripitaka dismounted, crossed the drawbridge, and walked straight into the long street within the gate. There he saw two old men sitting in the corridor talking. Tripitaka called out, "Disciples, stand in the middle of the street, keep your heads down, and do not be presumptuous. Wait for me to go to the corridor and ask about this place." Wukong indeed obeyed and stood still. The elder stepped forward, pressed his palms together, and said, "Elder benefactors, this humble monk greets you." The two old men were just then idly chatting and discoursing on such matters as rise and fall, gain and loss, who was sage and who was worthy, the heroic deeds of bygone days and where they were now—truly enough to evoke deep sighs. Hearing the greeting, they returned the courtesy and said, "Elder, what have you to say?" Tripitaka said, "This humble monk has come from a distant land to worship the Buddha. Having just arrived at your precious region, I do not know its name. Where might there be a virtuous household where I could beg a meal?" The old man said, "Our humble place is Tongtai Prefecture. Behind the prefecture there is a county called Diling County. Elder, if you wish to eat, you need not beg for alms. Past this memorial archway, on the north-south street, on the side facing east, there is a tiger-shaped gate tower—that is the home of Squire Kou. Before his gate there is a placard reading 'Ten Thousand Monks Unhindered.' For a distant monk like you, there is plenty to enjoy. Go, go, go—do not interrupt our conversation." Tripitaka thanked him, turned, and said to Wukong, "This place is Tongtai Prefecture, Diling County. Those two old men said: 'Past this archway on the north-south street, facing east at the tiger-shaped gate tower, there is Squire Kou's home, and before his gate is a placard reading "Ten Thousand Monks Unhindered."' They told me to go to his house to eat." Sha Seng said, "The West is the land of the Buddha—truly there are those who feed monks. Since this is a prefecture and county, there is no need to have our travel documents inspected. Let us go beg some food, and then we can be on our way." The elder and the three others walked slowly along the long street, and this stirred the people at the market crossing into alarm and suspicion—they surrounded them and vied to gape at their appearances. The elder ordered them to keep silent, only saying, "Do not be presumptuous, do not be presumptuous." The three indeed kept their heads down and did not dare look up. Turning a corner, they indeed saw a north-south grand street. As they walked along, they saw a tiger-shaped gate tower. On the screen wall inside the gate hung a large placard bearing the four words "Ten Thousand Monks Unhindered." Tripitaka said, "In this western land of the Buddha, both the worthy and the foolish are without deceit. When those two old men said it, I still did not believe it, but here it is exactly as they said." Bajie, being rustic, was about to enter. Wukong said, "Idiot, wait a moment—let someone come out, and we shall ask them properly before entering." Sha Seng said, "Elder Brother's words are reasonable; we fear that if we rush in without distinguishing inside from outside, we may annoy the benefactor." They set down the horse and luggage at the gate. In a short while, an old servant came out carrying a steelyard and a basket. Catching sight of them, he started in fright, dropped what he held, and ran inside to report: "Master, four strange monks have come outside!" The squire, leaning on his staff, was strolling idly in the courtyard, ceaselessly reciting the Buddha's name. Hearing the report, he dropped his staff and came out to receive them. Seeing the four, he showed no fear of their ugliness, only calling out, "Please come in! Please come in!" Tripitaka, with great modesty, entered together with them. Turning down a lane, the squire led them to a hall and said, "These upper rooms are the Buddha hall, scripture hall, and refectory for entertaining you, my lords. The lower rooms are where your disciple's family dwells." Tripitaka praised him without end. He then took out his cassock, put it on, and worshipped the Buddha. He stepped up into the hall and looked around, and saw: Fragrant clouds clustered thickly, Candle flames shone brightly. Throughout the hall, brocade and flowers were massed; On every side, gold and color gleamed. From vermilion frames hung a purple-gold bell; On painted stands stood paired flower-drum drums. Several banners were embroidered with eight treasures; A thousand Buddha statues were all gilded with gold. Ancient bronze censers, ancient bronze vases; Carved lacquer tables, carved lacquer boxes. Within the ancient bronze censers, aloes and sandalwood burned without cease; Within the ancient bronze vases, lotus flowers ever displayed their colors. On the carved lacquer tables, the five clouds were vivid; In the carved lacquer boxes, heaps of incense petals were stored. Glass cups held clear and pure water; Lapis-lazuli lamps shone with bright sesame oil. A single golden chime rang out, its sound lingering and slow. Truly, this was a precious tower beyond the dust of the mundane world—a household Buddha hall that surpassed even the great monasteries. The elder washed his hands, took up incense, and after kowtowing and completing his worship, turned back to salute the squire. The squire said, "Wait, please come to the scripture hall to meet." There they saw: Square tables and upright cabinets, Jade boxes and golden caskets. Square tables and upright cabinets, piled with countless scriptures; Jade boxes and golden caskets, storing many scrolls and letters. On painted lacquer tables were paper, ink, brushes, and inkstones—all exquisite writing implements; Before pepper-powder screens were calligraphy, paintings, the qin, and chess—all most subtle and mysterious true delights. There stood a fairy chime of light jade and floating gold, And hung a dragon-whisk whisk that could part wind and moon. The pure air refreshed one's spirit; The mindful heart felt its Dao-nature at ease. When the elder had come this far and was about to salute, the squire again held him back and said, "Please loosen your Buddhist robe." Tripitaka took off his cassock. Only then did he meet the squire properly. Then he invited the three disciples to meet him as well. He also ordered that the horse be fed and the luggage placed in the corridor, and then he inquired about their well-being. Tripitaka said, "This humble monk is on an imperial commission from the Great Tang in the East, sent to your precious region to pay homage at Spirit Mountain, see the Buddha, and seek the true scriptures. Hearing that your honored house reveres monks, I have come to pay my respects and ask for one meal before continuing." The squire's face lit up with joy, and he said with a smile, "Your disciple's humble name is Kou Hong, courtesy name Dakuan. I am sixty-four years old. From the age of forty, I vowed to feed ten thousand monks to complete my perfect merit. Now I have been feeding monks for twenty-four years, and I keep a register of their names. Lately having nothing to do, I calculated the number of monks I have fed, and I have already fed nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-six monks—only four are lacking to complete the number. Today, by heaven's coincidence, four venerable teachers have descended, completing the ten thousand monks. I beg you to leave your honored names, and at the very least stay for over a month. After the completion of the merit, your disciple will provide sedan chairs and horses to escort the teachers up the mountain. From here to Spirit Mountain is only eight hundred li—truly not far." When Tripitaka heard this, he was greatly pleased, and all of them for the time being agreed to stay—but no more of that. His several household servants, both young and old, went back to the residence to carry firewood and draw water, fetch rice, flour, and vegetables, and prepare vegetarian offerings, when they suddenly roused the old lady of the household, who asked, "Where are these monks from, that you are so busy?" The servants replied, "Just now four eminent monks arrived. Father asked after their circumstances, and they said they were sent by the Great Tang Emperor from the East, on their way to Spirit Mountain to pay homage to the Buddha. How many leagues they have traveled to reach our place, we do not know. Father said they were sent from Heaven, and ordered us to prepare a vegetarian feast quickly to offer them." When the old lady heard this she was also delighted, and called to her maids: "Fetch me clothes to put on, I too will go and see." The servants said, "Grandma, only one of them is fit to be seen; the other three cannot be looked at, for their appearance is extremely ugly." The old lady said, "You do not understand. When the appearance is ugly, strange, and extraordinary, they must surely be heavenly beings descended to earth. Go quickly and tell your father first." The servant ran to the sutra hall and said to the old gentleman, "Grandma has come and wishes to pay her respects to the master from the East." When Tripitaka heard this, he rose at once and stepped down from his seat. Before he could finish speaking, the old lady had already arrived before the hall. She raised her eyes and saw that Tang Monk had a noble bearing and a handsome, heroic countenance. Turning her face, she saw the three disciples' appearances were extraordinary; though she knew they were heavenly beings descended to earth, she still felt some fear, and knelt down to prostrate herself. Tripitaka hastily returned the bow and said, "You labor under a mistaken courtesy, Bodhisattva." The old lady asked the old gentleman, "Why are the four masters not seated together?" Pigsy pouted and said, "We three are disciples." Alas! That one utterance was like the roar of a tiger in the deep mountains, and the old lady became all the more frightened. Just as they were speaking, another servant came to report: "The two young masters have also arrived." Tripitaka hastily turned to look, and saw they were two young scholars. The scholars walked up to the sutra hall and bowed low to the elder. Startled, Tripitaka hurriedly returned the bow. The old gentleman stepped forward and held them back, saying, "These are my two young sons, named Kou Liang and Kou Dong. They have just returned from studying in the library and have come for lunch. Hearing that the master has descended, they have come to pay their respects." Tripitaka said joyfully, "Worthy, worthy! Indeed: If you wish to elevate your family standing, you must do good; if you desire fine sons and grandsons, you must pursue learning." The two scholars asked their father, "Where does this master come from?" The old gentleman laughed and said, "He has come from far away—from the Great Tang in the East of the Southern Jambu Continent, sent by the emperor on a mission to Spirit Mountain to worship the Buddha and fetch scriptures." The scholars said, "We have read in the Comprehensive Records of Events that under heaven there are only four great continents. This place of ours is called the Western Ox-horn Continent, and there is also the Eastern Victory Continent. I wonder how many ages it has taken to travel from the Southern Jambu Continent to here?" Tripitaka smiled and said, "This poor monk has spent more days delayed on the road than days traveling. We have constantly encountered venomous demons and fierce monsters, suffering every hardship and tribulation, and have relied greatly on the protection of my three disciples. In all, we have passed through fourteen cycles of cold and heat before finally reaching this precious region." When the scholars heard this, they praised him without end, saying, "Truly a divine monk! Truly a divine monk!" Before they had finished speaking, another young servant came to invite them: "The vegetarian feast has been laid out; please, masters, enter and eat." The old gentleman had the old lady and his sons retire to the inner quarters, while he accompanied the four guests into the dining hall to eat. The furnishings there were neatly arranged, and one could see: Gold-lacquered tables and black-lacquered armchairs. In front were five-colored fine fruits, all newly fashioned in the current style by skilled artisans; in the second row, five plates of small dishes; in the third row, five plates of fruit; in the fourth row, five large plates of snacks. Every sort was sweet and every piece fragrant. Vegetable soups and rice, steamed buns and mantou—spicy and steaming hot, all delicious and truly satisfying. Seven or eight servants rushed back and forth waiting on them, and four or five cooks worked without stopping. You should have seen them: some serving soup, some adding rice, back and forth like shooting stars chasing the moon. This Zhu Bajie finished one bowl after another, like a whirlwind sweeping away scattered clouds. The master and disciples all enjoyed a hearty meal. The elder rose and thanked the old gentleman for the meal, and then wished to set off. The old gentleman stopped him, saying, "Master, rest assured and stay a few days. As the saying goes, 'Beginning is easy; finishing well is hard.' Only after I have performed the completion ceremony may I dare to see you off." Seeing his sincerity and earnestness, Tripitaka had no choice but to remain. After five or six mornings and evenings had passed, the old gentleman then invited twenty-four Buddhist monks from the locality to perform the completion rites. The monks spent three or four days in writing and preparation, then selected an auspicious day to commence the Buddhist service. Their customs there were entirely the same as those of the Great Tang, and so they: Raised banners high and displayed golden images; all together held candles and offered incense and burnt offerings. They beat drums and struck cymbals, played panpipes and fingered flutes. Cloud-gongs and transverse flutes sounded clear, all in the proper musical modes. After a round of drumming and a round of piping, they chanted in unison to open the sutra treasury. First they settled the earth spirits, then invited the divine generals. They issued the written petitions and paid homage to the Buddha images. They recited the Peacock Sutra, each line dispelling misfortunes and obstacles; they lit the Medicine Buddha lamps, whose flames shone brightly. They performed the Water Repentance to dissolve grievances; they chanted the Avatamsaka Sutra to eliminate slander. The three vehicles of wondrous Dharma were cultivated with great diligence, and all the monks, whether senior or junior, acted alike. In this manner they performed the rites for three days and nights, and the ceremony was completed. Tang Monk, thinking of Thunderclap Monastery, was intent on leaving, and again took his leave. The old gentleman said, "Master, you are in such haste to depart. Could it be that the recent busyness of the rites has led to some neglect on our part, and you have taken offense?" Tripitaka said, "I have deeply troubled your honorable household and do not know how to repay you—how could I speak of offense? But at the time when the sage emperor saw me off from the pass, he asked when I could return, and I rashly replied that I could return in three years. Unexpectedly, delays on the road have brought it to fourteen years already. Whether I shall obtain the scriptures or not is uncertain, and if I return only after another twelve or thirteen years, would that not be a violation of the imperial decree? What crime could be great enough? I beg the old gentleman to let this poor monk go on ahead. After I have fetched the scriptures and returned, I shall come back to your mansion and stay for a longer while—would that not be acceptable?" Pigsy could not contain himself and called out loudly, "Master, you are quite unreasonable and unfeeling. The old gentleman is a man of great wealth, and he made this vow to feed monks; now that it has been fulfilled, and moreover he has kept us with such sincerity, we ought to stay for a year or so—it wouldn't hurt. Why must you keep insisting on leaving? Why refuse such an excellent meal already prepared and go begging for alms elsewhere? What kind of 'old master' or 'old mother' do you have ahead of you?" The elder gave a sharp harrumph and scolded, "You stupid brute! All you know is eating, without any regard for the causes of returning—you are just like a beast that eats in its stall and rubs its belly against the manger. Since you all are so attached to this greed and anger, tomorrow I shall go by myself." When the Great Sage saw his master's face change, he grabbed Pigsy and gave him a volley of blows on the head, cursing, "You idiot, you don't know what's good for you, and now you've made the master angry with all of us." Sha Monk laughed and said, "Good beating, good beating. Even keeping silent like this one still invites dislike, and now he has to butt in." The idiot stood by in a huff, not daring to speak again. Seeing the discord among the master and disciples, the old gentleman could only force a smile and say, "Master, do not be vexed. For today, please be a little tolerant. Tomorrow I shall prepare some banners and drums, invite a few neighbors and relatives, and see you off on your journey." While they were still speaking, the old woman came out again and said, “Venerable Master, since you have kindly come to our humble home, there is no need to insist on leaving. How many days have you been here now?” Tripitaka said, “Already half a month.” The old woman said, “These half month count as my husband’s meritorious virtue. I too have a little money from needlework and would also like to offer a vegetarian meal to the master for half a month.” Before she finished, the Kou brothers came out again and said, “Honorable masters, our father has been feeding monks for over twenty years, but never has he met such good people. Now fortunately this circle of merit is complete, and the four of you have come down to us – truly you make our thatched gate shine. We students are young and do not understand karmic causes, but we have often heard it said: ‘If the husband cultivates, he gains; if the wife cultivates, she gains; if one does not cultivate, one gains nothing.’ Our father and mother each wish to offer a humble gift, precisely to each gain some karmic reward – why must you so insist on refusing? Even we foolish brothers have some small allowance for teachers, and we also hope to provide for you venerable masters for half a month before seeing you off.” Tripitaka said, “The great kindness of your esteemed mother, the Bodhisattva, I already dare not accept; how could I presume to accept the deep affection of you worthy brothers? I definitely dare not accept. Today I am determined to set out; please do not take it amiss. Otherwise, if I long overstay the imperial deadline, my crime would be beyond forgiveness.” When the old woman and her two sons saw that he was utterly inflexible, they grew annoyed and said, “We meant well in inviting you to stay, yet he is so stubborn and insists on going. If he wants to go, then let him go – why keep on chattering?” Mother and sons then turned and went inside. Bajie could not hold back and said to Tang Sanzang, “Master, don’t carry things too far. As the saying goes, ‘If you stay, you may incur blame.’ Let’s just stay a month and fulfill the wishes of mother and sons – why all this rush?” Tang Sanzang gave a sharp “Tch!” and the blockhead himself slapped his own mouth twice, saying, “Tsk, tsk, tsk! I told myself not to talk too much, and yet I speak again!” Wukong and Sha Seng snickered on the side. Tang Sanzang then scolded Wukong, “What are you laughing at?” He immediately formed the mudra and was about to recite the Band-tightening Spell. Startled, Wukong knelt down and said, “Master, I was not laughing, I was not laughing. Please, by all means, do not recite it, do not recite it.” When the Yuanwai saw that the master and disciples were gradually growing vexed, he dared not press them to stay any longer; he only said, “Venerable Master, do not quarrel. We shall see you off tomorrow morning.” Thereupon he left the scripture hall, instructed his clerks to write over a hundred invitation notes, and invited neighbors and relatives to come the next morning to see off the Tang monk on his westward journey. At the same time, he ordered the cooks to prepare a farewell feast; he also ordered the stewards to make twenty pairs of colorful banners, hire a band of drummers and musicians, invite a group of monks from the Southern Temple, and invite a group of Daoists from the Eastern Peak Abbey – all to be assembled by the hour of Si (9–11 a.m.) the next day. The various attendants took their orders and departed. Before long, evening fell again. After the evening meal, each retired to his own sleeping place. One could see: A few homing crows passed over other villages; From the tower, drum and bell sounds were heard from afar. On the six streets and three markets, human bustle had quieted; Through ten thousand gates and a thousand doors, lamplight grew dim. The moon was bright, the wind clear, flowers played with their shadows; The Silver River was faint, reflected among the stars. Where the cuckoo cried, the night grew deeper; All heavenly sounds were still, the great earth in balance. That night, around the third or fourth watch, the servants of each household all rose early to purchase and prepare various items. Look at them: those preparing the feast, flustered in the kitchen; those setting up the banners, bustling in the hall; those inviting monks and Daoists, running on both feet; those calling musicians, dashing about with all their might; those delivering invitation notes, dashing east and west; those preparing sedan chairs and horses, calling up and answering down. Through the latter half of the night they kept up the racket until dawn, and around the hour of Si all was ready – such is the power of wealth. Now as for the Tang master and his disciples, they rose early, and another group of attendants came to serve them. The elder ordered them to pack the luggage and prepare the horse. When the blockhead heard they were about to leave, he pouted and pursed his lips, grumbling and muttering, but had no choice but to pack the robes and alms bowl and find the shoulder-pole. Sha Seng brushed and washed the horse, put on the saddle and bridle, and stood by. Wukong placed the nine-ringed staff in his master’s hand and hung the pouch containing the travel passport across his chest – all were ready to leave at once. The Yuanwai then invited them all to the large hall at the rear, where another feast had been laid out, even more splendid than the one in the refectory. One could see: Curtains and screens hung high, enclosing all around. In the center hung a painting of Longevity Mountain and Sea of Blessings; On the two walls were four scrolls depicting the scenes of spring, summer, autumn, and winter. From the dragon-patterned tripod, fragrant smoke drifted in haze; From the magpie-tail censer, auspicious vapors arose. The display plates were piled with colorful delicacies, each bright in hue; The tables were set with gold, rows of lion-shaped sugar confections. Before the steps, drums and dances kept time with the music; On the hall, fruits and dishes spread like brocade. The vegetarian soups and rice were remarkably pure and fine; The fragrant wines and teas were most exquisite. Though it was a commoner’s home, it was not inferior to a nobleman’s mansion. One only heard a chorus of joyful sounds – truly enough to shake heaven and earth. Just as the elder was exchanging courtesies with the Yuanwai, a servant came to report: “All the guests have arrived.” They were the invited neighbors from left and right, brothers-in-law, aunts, elder sisters, brothers-in-law, and also those fellow vegetarians and pious friends who practiced Buddhism – all came together to bow to the elder. After the bows, each took his seat according to rank. Below the hall, lutes and flutes were played; above, songs and wine flowed. At this grand feast, Bajie took note and said to Sha Seng, “Brother, eat and drink your fill – once we leave the Kou household, we won’t see such sumptuous fare again.” Sha Seng laughed and said, “Second Brother, what are you saying? As the saying goes, ‘Though a hundred delicacies, one full meal is enough.’ One may have a private purse, but never a private belly.” Bajie said, “You’re too weak, too weak. I’ll eat my fill at this meal, and I won’t be hungry for three days.” Wukong overheard and said, “Blockhead, don’t burst your belly – we have to walk now.” Before they finished speaking, the sun was reaching noon. The elder raised his chopsticks and recited the Meal-Offering Sutra. Bajie, flustered, grabbed the extra rice and downed a bowl at a time, putting away five or six bowls; then he stuffed his two sleeves with steamed buns, cakes, pastries, and baked fruits, taking everything good or bad, before following his master to set out. The elder thanked the Yuanwai and then thanked all the guests, and they all went out the gate. Look at the colorful banners and canopies, drummers and musicians arrayed outside, and the two groups of monks and Daoists just arriving. The Yuanwai smiled and said, “You have come late, gentlemen; the master is leaving in haste, so I cannot offer you a meal now. I shall thank you when he returns.” The crowd made way; those in sedan chairs were carried, those on horseback rode, and those on foot walked – all gave way for the four masters to go ahead. The sound of drums and music filled the sky, banners and flags shaded the sun, crowds gathered, carts and horses thronged – all came to see Yuanwai Kou see off Tang Sanzang. This display of wealth truly surpassed jeweled adornments and was no less than brocade curtains hiding spring. That group of monks played a Buddhist melody; that group of Daoists played a Taoist tune. They all escorted them out of the city, and when they reached the ten-li pavilion, they set out food and drink, raised cups and poured wine, and parted after drinking. The Yuanwai still could not bear to part; with tears in his eyes he said, “Venerable Master, when you return with the scriptures, you must come to my humble home and stay a few more days, to fulfill the wish of this Kou Hong.” The elder was overcome with gratitude and thanked him endlessly, saying, “If I reach Vulture Peak and see the Buddha, I shall first recount the great virtue of the Yuanwai. When I return, I will certainly come to your door to bow and thank you.” As they talked, they had unconsciously gone another two or three li. The elder earnestly took his leave. The Yuanwai then turned back, weeping loudly. Truly: He who had the vow to feed monks would reach wondrous enlightenment; But without fate, he could not see the Tathagata Buddha. Let us now set aside the matter of Elder Kou escorting them to the ten-li pavilion and then returning home with the others. As for the master and his four disciples, after traveling some forty or fifty li, dusk was approaching. The elder said, "It is getting late—where can we find lodging for the night?" Bajie, carrying the pole and pouting his lips, grumbled, "You had ready-made tea and meals, and cool tiled rooms to stay in, yet you insisted on taking to the road, as if rushing to a funeral or chasing ghosts. Now it is evening, and if rain should fall, what then?" Tripitaka scolded him, "You brute beast, here you are complaining again! As the saying goes, 'Though Chang'an is fine, it is not a place for long-term attachment.' If we have the fortune to bow before the Buddha and obtain the true scriptures, then when we return to the Great Tang and report to His Majesty, you may eat your fill from the imperial kitchen for years on end—until you burst, you beast, and make a gluttonous ghost of yourself!" The idiot chuckled quietly to himself and dared not reply again. Xingzhe raised his eyes and gazed into the distance, spotting several houses by the side of the main road. He urgently called to his master, "There—there we can rest, there we can rest." The elder went forward and saw that it was a collapsed memorial archway, on which hung an old plaque with four large characters, their colors faded and covered with dust: "Huaguang Practice Courtyard." The elder dismounted and said, "Bodhisattva Huaguang was a disciple of Buddha Flame Five-Light; because he subdued the Poison Fire Ghost King, he was demoted in rank and transformed into the Five Manifestations Spiritual Officer. There must be a temple keeper here." They all entered together, but found the corridor rooms all collapsed and no one in sight. They were about to withdraw when, unexpectedly, black clouds covered the sky overhead and a torrential rain poured down. With no alternative, they took shelter beneath the broken structures, finding spots that kept out the wind and rain, and huddled there. They remained silent and still, not daring to speak loudly, for fear that some demon or evil spirit might notice them. Some sat, some stood, and they endured a bitter night without sleep. Alas! Truly: When extreme prosperity gives way to adversity, In the midst of joy one encounters sorrow again. But whether, when dawn comes, they will be able to press forward—that we shall learn in the next installment.