OriginChapter 17
It is said that Sun the Traveler leaped up with a single somersault, frightening all the monks, large and small, as well as the mendicants, attendants, Daoists, and others of Guanyin Monastery, who each bowed toward Heaven and worshiped, saying: “Grandfather! So it turns out that a divine sage who rides clouds and drives mist has descended to the world. No wonder fire could not harm him. I resent that old skinflint of mine, who knew no one and schemed and plotted—today he has instead brought calamity upon himself.” Tripitaka said: “All of you, rise. There is no need to resent him. Once we find the cassock, everything will be settled; but I fear that we may not find it. My disciple’s temper is somewhat bad, and I do not know what will become of your lives. I fear that not one person may escape.” Hearing this, the assembled monks were each terrified, praying to Heaven and making vows that, so long as the cassock could be found, all their lives would be spared.
Now, Sun the Great Sage arrived in midair, twisted his waist once, and had already reached Black Wind Mountain. He halted the cloud and looked carefully. It was indeed a fine mountain; moreover, it was just the season of spring. There he saw:
Ten thousand ravines vying in their flow, a thousand cliffs competing in their beauty.
Birds cried, yet no people could be seen; flowers fell, yet the trees still gave forth fragrance.
After the rain, the sky joined the green cliffs in moistness; when the wind came, the pines unfurled like a spread emerald screen.
Mountain grasses sprouted, wild flowers bloomed, precipitous cliffs and sheer peaks;
Green creepers grew, fine trees shone fair, lofty ridges and level hills.
If no secluded recluse were met, where could one seek a woodcutter?
Two cranes drank beside the stream, while wild apes raged upon the rocks.
They rose in piled螺-like peaks arranged in dark green hues, lofty and imposing, embracing emerald and playing with the mountain haze.
As the Traveler was admiring the mountain scenery, he suddenly heard people speaking before a slope covered with fragrant grass. He therefore lightened his steps and concealed his tracks, slipping beneath a rocky cliff to watch secretly with narrowed eyes. It turned out to be three demons, seated upon the ground: at the head was a black fellow, below him on the left sat a Daoist, and below him on the right sat a white-robed scholar. They were all speaking at length about setting up the tripod and securing the furnace, kneading sand and refining mercury, white snow and yellow sprouts, and side-door heterodox teachings. In the midst of their discussion, the black fellow laughed and said: “The day after tomorrow is the day of my mother’s difficulty in giving birth. The two gentlemen must honor me with your presence.” The white-robed scholar said: “Every year we come to offer Your Majesty birthday congratulations. How could there be any reason for us not to come this year?” The black fellow said: “Last night I obtained a treasure called a brocade-lan kasaya. It is truly a fine object for amusement. Tomorrow I shall use it as the centerpiece of my birthday celebration, hold a grand banquet, and invite the Daoist officials of every mountain to celebrate the Buddha’s robe. Shall we call it the Buddha-Robe Assembly?” The Daoist laughed and said: “Excellent, excellent, excellent. Tomorrow I shall first come to offer birthday congratulations; the day after tomorrow I shall come again to attend the banquet.”
Hearing mention of the Buddha’s robe, the Traveler was certain it was his treasure. Unable to restrain his anger, he leaped out from beneath the rocky cliff, raised the Golden Cudgel in both hands, and shouted: “You band of thieving monsters! You stole my cassock—what do you intend by holding a Buddha-Robe Assembly? Hand it back to me at once.” With a cry of “Do not flee!” he swung the cudgel and struck once directly at the head. The black fellow hurriedly transformed into wind and fled, while the Daoist rode upon a cloud and escaped. He only managed to kill the white-robed scholar with a single blow. He dragged him over and examined him, and it proved to be a white-spotted snake demon. He simply picked it up and smashed it into five or seven pieces. He went straight into the deep mountains to search for the black fellow. Turning past a pointed peak and wiping past a steep ridge, he again saw, before a precipitous cliff, a cave dwelling rising up. There he saw:
Mist and rosy clouds stretched dimly and far; pines and cypresses stood dense and solemn.
Mist and rosy clouds stretched dimly, their colors filling the gate; pines and cypresses stood dense, their green encircling the doors.
A bridge crossed a withered raft of wood; on the summit of the peak, green creepers wound.
Birds carried red blossoms into the clouded ravines; deer trod through fragrant growths up to the stone terrace.
Before the gate, flowers were ever urged to bloom, while the wind sent their fragrance forth.
By the bank, green willows turned toward the golden orioles; beside the shore, delicate peaches fluttered the powder-colored butterflies.
Though it was an open wilderness unfit for boasting, it rivaled the scenery beneath Mount Penglai.
The Traveler arrived at the gate and again saw that the two stone doors were shut extremely tight. Upon the gate was a horizontal stone tablet, clearly bearing six large characters: “Black Wind Mountain, Black Wind Cave.” He immediately swung his cudgel and shouted: “Open the gate!” A little demon guarding the gate opened it and came out, asking: “Who are you, daring to strike at our immortal’s cave?” The Traveler cursed: “You death-seeking vile beast! What sort of place is this that you dare call it an immortal’s cave? Is the character ‘immortal’ yours to claim? Hurry inside and report to that black fellow of yours. Tell him to bring out my cassock at once, and I will spare the lives of your entire den.” The little demon hurried inside and reported: “Great King, the Buddha-Robe Assembly cannot be held. Outside the gate there is a monk with a hairy face and the mouth of a thunder god who has come to demand the cassock.” The black fellow had been chased here by the Traveler from before the slope of fragrant grass and had only just shut the gate. He had not yet settled into his seat when he heard this report. He thought to himself: “This fellow—I do not know where he came from—is so insolent that he dares shout at my gate.” He ordered his armor brought, donned it, took up a black-tasseled spear, and came out. The Traveler slipped outside the gate and, holding his iron cudgel, opened his eyes wide to look. The monster was indeed born with a fierce and dangerous appearance:
A bowl-shaped iron helmet gleamed with lacquer like fire;
An armor of black gold shone brilliantly.
A black gauze robe covered sleeves that billowed in the wind;
A black-and-green silk sash hung low, its tassels long.
In his hand he held a single black-tasseled spear;
His feet wore a pair of black leather boots.
His eyes flashed with golden radiance like sudden lightning;
He was precisely the Black Wind King of the mountain.
The Traveler laughed secretly and said: “This fellow truly resembles one from a brick kiln, no different from a coal stacker. He must make a living here brushing charcoal—how else could his entire body be so black?” The monster shouted fiercely: “What sort of monk are you, daring to be so bold here?” The Traveler gripped his iron cudgel, rushed up before him, and shouted loudly: “Stop your idle talk. Quickly return your grandfather’s cassock.” The monster said: “Are you a monk from that monastery? Your cassock was lost somewhere—how dare you come here to demand it?” The Traveler said: “My cassock was placed in the rear abbot’s quarters of Guanyin Monastery, directly to the north. Because that monastery caught fire, you took advantage of the commotion to plunder and steal it, intending to hold a Buddha-Robe Assembly to celebrate your birthday. How dare you deny it? Return it to me at once and I will spare your life. But if your teeth utter even half a word of ‘no,’ I will topple Black Wind Mountain, trample Black Wind Cave flat, and grind every demon in this cave into powder.”
Hearing this, the monster laughed coldly and said: “You impudent thing! So it was you who set that fire last night. You committed violence atop the abbot’s quarters and summoned the wind; I took one cassock from there. What are you going to do about it? Where did you come from? What are your surname and given name? How great are your abilities that you dare speak such boastful and outrageous words?” The Traveler said: “You do not even recognize your grandfather. Your grandfather is the disciple of Tripitaka, the Imperial Younger Brother and Dharma Master, before the throne of the Great Tang, surnamed Sun and named the Traveler Wukong. If you ask about your grandfather’s abilities, I shall tell you of them and make your soul fly from your body, with death before your eyes.” The monster said: “I have never heard of them. What abilities do you possess? Tell me, that I may hear.” The Traveler laughed and said: “My son, stand firm and listen carefully. I:
From childhood my divine abilities and skills were high;
With the wind I changed forms and displayed heroic might.
I nurtured my nature and cultivated truth, enduring the days and months;
I leaped beyond the cycle of reincarnation and escaped the constraints of fate.
With a single point of sincere devotion, I once sought the Way;
Upon Mount Lingtai I gathered seedlings of medicinal herbs.
That mountain had an ancient immortal,
Whose years numbered a hundred thousand and eight thousand.
Old Sun bowed to him as his teacher;
He pointed out to me a single road to immortality.
He said that within the body there are elixirs;
To gather them outside is merely labor in vain.
I received the Great Grade Celestial Immortal Formula;
Without the foundation, it would truly be difficult to endure.
Turning the light inward, I sat in quietude and calmed my mind;
Within the body, the sun and moon, kan and li, joined in intercourse.
Thinking of nothing and curbing desire in all things,
The six roots became pure and the body firm and strong.
Returning from old age to childhood was easily attained;
The road beyond the ordinary to enter sagehood was not far.
After three years without leakage, an immortal body was formed;
Unlike common people, I no longer suffered torment.
The Ten Continents and Three Islands I still roamed for pleasure;
I made a circuit from the ends of the sea to the ends of the earth.
I deserved to live more than three hundred years,
Yet could not ascend and fly up to the Ninth Heaven.
I went down into the sea and subdued a dragon for a true treasure;
Only then did I obtain a single Golden-Circlet Staff.
Before the Flower-Fruit Mountain, I was commander-in-chief; within the Water-Curtain Cave, I gathered the multitude of demons.
The Jade Emperor proclaimed an imperial edict, and conferred on me the highest rank, Great Sage Equaling Heaven.
Several times I greatly disturbed the Hall of the Golden Arches; several times I stole the Queen Mother’s peaches.
A hundred thousand Celestial Soldiers came to subdue me, layer upon layer densely deploying spears and blades.
I defeated the Heavenly Kings in battle and sent them back to the upper realm; Nezha, bearing his pain, led the troops in flight.
The Manifest-Sage True Lord, skilled in transformations, and this Old Sun staked everything in a hard contest and fell into an even struggle.
The Dao Ancestor, Guanyin, and the Jade Emperor watched from above the Southern Heavenly Gate as the demon was subdued.
Yet Lao Jun lent them a hand; Erlang captured me and brought me to the Celestial Court.
They bound my body to the Demon-Subduing Pillar and immediately ordered the divine soldiers to behead me.
Blades hacked and hammers struck, yet could not damage me; they then commanded thunder to strike and fire to burn me.
This Old Sun truly possessed methods; I was entirely unafraid, not in the least.
They sent me into Lao Jun’s furnace to be refined, where the Six Ding Divine Fire slowly tormented me.
When the days were complete, they opened the furnace and I leaped out, holding an iron cudgel and running around Heaven.
Crosswise and lengthwise, I went everywhere unobstructed, causing a disturbance throughout the Thirty-Three Heavens.
My Buddha, the Tathagata, exerted his power, and the Five-Phases Mountain pressed down upon this Old Sun’s waist.
It pressed me down for a full five hundred years, until fortunately I encountered Sanzang, who had come from the Tang court.
Now I have returned to the righteous path and journeyed westward, going up to Thunderclap to behold the Jade-Hair.
Go throughout Heaven and Earth and the four seas and ask around: I am the number-one demon famed throughout all the ages.”
Hearing this, the monster laughed and said, “So you are that Bi Ma Wen who disturbed the Heavenly Palace?” The thing that most enraged the Pilgrim was when people called him Bi Ma Wen. Hearing these words, he became furious in his heart and cursed, “You thieving monster! You stole the kasaya and would not return it, and instead injured your elder. Do not run—look at my cudgel.” The black fellow turned aside and dodged, swung up his long spear, and came to meet him with a blow. The two parties engaged in a fine battle:
The Compliant Cudgel, the black-tasseled spear, the two displayed their might before the cave. One feinted and hacked at the face, the other stabbed and struck the arm and head. One cast a horizontal shadowing cudgel with his hand; the other swiftly twisted out three straight thrusts. The White Tiger Climbing the Mountain came probing with its claws; the Yellow Dragon Lying Across the Road turned about in haste. They spewed colored mist and exhaled radiant light; the two demon immortals were beyond measure. One was the Righteous-Cultivating Great Sage Equaling Heaven; the other was the Black Great King who had become a spirit. This struggle in the mountain took place only because neither would yield the kasaya.
The monster and the Pilgrim fought for more than ten exchanges without victory or defeat. Gradually, the red sun reached midday. The black fellow raised his spear to block the iron cudgel and said, “Pilgrim Sun, let the two of us withdraw our troops for now. After I go in and have a meal, we can stake another contest with each other.” The Pilgrim said, “You vile beast, do you call yourself a man? A fine man who has to eat after only half a day? As for this Old Sun, I was pressed beneath the mountain root for more than five hundred years and never tasted even a little soup or water. How could I be hungry? Do not make excuses. Do not run. Return my kasaya, and then I will let you go eat.” The monster made a feint with his spear, withdrew into the cave, shut the stone gate, recalled the lesser monsters, and proceeded to arrange a banquet, write invitations, and invite the demon kings of every mountain to celebrate together; this need not be mentioned.
Now, the Pilgrim could not break open the gate and had no choice but to return to the Guanyin Monastery. The monks of that monastery had already buried the old abbot, and were all attending upon Tang Sanzang in the abbot’s quarters. The morning fast had ended, and they had again set out the midday vegetarian meal. Just as they were adding soup and changing the water, they saw the Pilgrim descend from the air. All the monks paid obeisance and received him into the abbot’s quarters, where he met Sanzang. Sanzang said, “Wukong, you have come? What of the kasaya?” The Pilgrim said, “There is already a cause and origin to it. It is fortunate that I did not wrong these monks; it turns out that the demon of Black Rooster Mountain stole it. This Old Sun went secretly to seek him out and saw him sitting before the Fragrant-Grass Slope speaking with a White-Robed Scholar and an old Daoist. He was a monster that gave himself away without being struck; suddenly he said that the day after tomorrow was the anniversary of his mother’s difficulty in giving birth, and that he had invited all the evil spirits to celebrate her birthday. The previous night he had obtained a brocade kasaya and intended to use it as a birthday gift, holding a great banquet called the Celebration and Appreciation of the Buddha’s Robe Assembly. This Old Sun rushed before them and struck him with a cudgel. The black fellow transformed into wind and fled, and the Daoist also disappeared. I only managed to beat the White-Robed Scholar to death; he was a white-flowered snake that had become a spirit. I hurried to the entrance of his cave and called for him to come out and fight me. He had already admitted that he had taken it back. We fought through half the day without victory or defeat. The monster returned to the cave, yet wanted to eat; he shut the stone gate and, fearing the battle, would not come out. This Old Sun has come back to look in on my master and first report this news. Now that we know where the kasaya is, I am not afraid that he will fail to return it.”
Hearing this, the monks folded their palms, those who folded their palms, and kowtowed, those who kowtowed, all reciting, “Namo Amitabha Buddha! Today we have found its whereabouts; only now do we have our lives!” The Pilgrim said, “Do not yet rejoice and be delighted. I have not obtained it, and my master has not yet left the monastery. Only after we have the kasaya and I properly send my master out of the gate will you have a place of peace; if there is the slightest unforeseen mishap, this Old Sun is not a master to be trifled with! Have you had good tea and food for my master to eat? Have you had good forage with which to feed the horse?” All the monks answered with one voice, “Yes, yes, yes! We have never been even slightly negligent in attending upon the venerable lord.” Sanzang said, “Since you left during this half-day, I have already had tea three times and two vegetarian meals. They have not dared to slight me in the least. You need only devote your whole heart and strength to seeking and bringing back the kasaya.” The Pilgrim said, “Do not worry. Now that we know where it is, I will certainly seize that fellow and return your original possession. Rest easy, rest easy.”
As they were speaking, the master of the upper quarters again prepared a plain offering and invited Lord Sun to eat a vegetarian meal. The Pilgrim ate a little, then once more rode an auspicious cloud and went off to search. As he was proceeding, he saw a little demon coming along the main road, carrying beneath his left arm a huanghuali wood box. The Pilgrim surmised that there must be some letter or note inside the box. He raised his cudgel and struck him once on the crown of the head. Pitifully, the creature could not withstand the blow, and was beaten into something like a meat cake. He dragged it to the roadside, opened the box, and examined it. Sure enough, there was an invitation. Written on the invitation were these words:
Your humble younger brother Xiong Pi bows his head in worship,
and submits this to the Elucidating Great Elder Jinchi, in your cinnabar chamber:
We have repeatedly received your excellent favors, for which our gratitude is deep as the abyss. Last night I witnessed the calamity of Huilu, and failed to rescue and protect you; I trust that, according to the workings of your immortal wisdom, you must have suffered no other harm. I happened by chance to obtain a Buddha’s robe, and wish to hold an elegant gathering. I have reverently prepared a flower wine banquet and respectfully invite you to honor us with your pure appreciation. When the appointed time arrives, I humbly beg that your immortal carriage come and visit, so that we may converse together. I shall be deeply honored. Prepared two days in advance.
The Pilgrim read it and laughed heartily, saying, “That old skinflint! His death was not the least bit undeserved. It turns out that he was in league with demons. No wonder he lived to be two hundred and seventy years old. I imagine that demon transmitted to him some little method of nourishing the breath, and thus he had such a long life. This Old Sun still remembers his appearance. I shall transform into that monk and go into his cave to look around and see where my kasaya has been placed. If I can get my hands on it, I will take it back at once, and it will save me some effort.”
What a Great Sage he was! He recited the spell, and, facing the wind, transformed himself into exactly the appearance of the old monk. He concealed the iron cudgel, stretched out his stride, and went straight to the cave entrance, calling, “Open the gate!” The little demon opened the gate, saw this appearance, and hurriedly turned around to report, “Great King, Elder Jinchi has come.” The monster was greatly startled and said, “I only just now sent a lesser one to deliver a letter inviting him. At this moment he should not yet have arrived there. How could he have come so swiftly? I suppose the lesser one did not encounter him. It must certainly be Pilgrim Sun who has summoned him to demand the kasaya. Steward, hide the Buddha’s robe, and do not let him see it.”
The Pilgrim entered through the front gate, but saw that in the courtyard, green pine and bamboo intermingled, peach and plum vied in beauty, flowers blossomed in clusters, and orchids exuded fragrance in bunches. It was indeed a place of blessed grottoes. He then saw a couplet on the second gate, which read:
“Quietly hidden in deep mountains, free of worldly cares;
Dwelling secluded in an immortal grotto, rejoicing in Heaven’s natural truth.”
The Pilgrim thought to himself, “This fellow too is a monster who has shed filth, left the dust, and understands destiny.” Entering the gate, he proceeded onward until he came to the third set of gates. Everywhere were painted rafters and carved beams, bright windows and colorful doors. He saw that the black fellow wore a black-and-green zhisī jacket with side slits, covered by a crow-blue patterned silk cape, a black-horn soft cap on his head, and a pair of black suede boots. Seeing the Pilgrim enter, he straightened his garments and cap, descended the steps to welcome him, and said, “Old friend Jinchi, I have been remiss in visiting you these past days. Please sit, please sit.” The Pilgrim exchanged courtesies with him. After the greetings, he sat down; once seated, tea was served. When the tea was finished, the monster inclined his body and said, “I recently sent a short note inviting you to meet me the day after tomorrow. Why has my old friend come to visit today?” The Pilgrim said, “I was just coming to pay my respects when, unexpectedly, I encountered your elegant letter on the road and learned that there was to be a fine gathering for the Buddhist robe. Therefore I hurried here, wishing to have a look.” The monster laughed and said, “My old friend, you are mistaken. This kasaya belongs to Tang Sanzang. Since he is staying at your place, could you not have seen it there, instead of coming to me to look at it?” The Pilgrim said, “I borrowed it, but as it was nighttime, I had not yet unfolded it to look at it. Unexpectedly, Your Greatness took it away. Then the fire burned the barren mountain, and the household possessions were lost. That disciple of Tang Sanzang is also rather valiant, and in the confusion we searched everywhere but could not find it. It turns out that Your Greatness’s great fortune brought it here, and so I have come especially to see it.”
As they were speaking, a little demon who patrolled the mountain came to report: “Great King, calamity has struck! The minor officer who carried the invitation was beaten to death by Sun Wukong beside the main road. He has taken up the scriptures, transformed himself into Elder Jinchi, and come to trick us out of the Buddhist robe!” Hearing this, the monster thought secretly, “I wondered why that elder had come today, and why he had come so quickly. It truly is he.” He hurriedly sprang up, seized his spear, and thrust it at the Pilgrim. The Pilgrim swiftly drew his iron cudgel from his ear, revealed his true form, and caught the spearhead. There in the central hall, they leaped out and fought from the courtyard to the front gate. All the demons in the grotto were frightened out of their wits, and the old and young of the household were utterly soul-less. This battle on the mountain was a fine contest indeed, even more extraordinary than the previous one. How ferocious it was:
That Monkey King, bold, had feigned to be a monk;
This black fellow, clever, had hidden the Buddhist robe.
In word and speech their subtle chances played;
They answered every move without delay.
He wished to see the kasaya, yet had no means to see it;
The treasure’s hidden mystery was wondrous indeed.
The little demon patrolling the mountain announced disaster;
The old monster, enraged, displayed his divine might.
Turning, he fought out of Black Wind Cave;
Spear and cudgel struggled to distinguish right from wrong.
Cudgel met long spear with ringing sound;
Spear faced iron cudgel, flashing rays of light.
Few in the human realm could match Wukong’s transformations;
Rare in the world were the monster’s supernatural arts.
One wished to celebrate his longevity with the Buddhist robe;
Would the other, unable to obtain the kasaya, willingly return?
This bitter battle was difficult to bring to an end;
Even a living Buddha descending to the mortal world could not resolve the encirclement.
The two of them fought from the cave entrance up to the mountaintop, and from the mountaintop they battled beyond the clouds. They exhaled mist and sprayed wind; flying sand and rolling stones filled the air. They fought until the red sun sank in the west, without victory or defeat. The monster said, “Sun, stop your hand for now. It is late today, and it is not good for us to continue fighting. Go, go! Come tomorrow morning, and we shall settle life and death between us.” The Pilgrim shouted, “Son, do not run! If you wish to fight, then fight like one who fights; do not use the lateness of the day as an excuse.” Seeing that the fellow had no head and no face to speak of, he simply continued swinging his cudgel at him. The black fellow then transformed into a gust of clear wind, returned to his cave, and tightly shut the stone gate, refusing to come out.
The Pilgrim had no plan with which to deal with him, and could only return to Guanyin Monastery. He lowered his cloud and called, “Master.” The Sanzang’s eyes had been anxiously gazing out for him; when he suddenly saw him before him, he was greatly pleased. But then he saw that there was no kasaya in his hands and became frightened. He asked, “How is it that you still have not brought back the kasaya?” The Pilgrim took a short note from his sleeve, handed it to the Sanzang, and said, “Master, that monster and the dead old hide-peeler were originally friends. He had a little demon send this note, inviting him to attend a Buddhist-robe gathering. Your old disciple killed that little demon, transformed into the old monk, entered his cave, and tricked him into serving me a cup of tea. I wished to ask him to bring out the kasaya for me to see, but he refused. While we were seated, some mountain-patrolling fellow suddenly went off and revealed the news, and he began fighting with me. We fought until this late hour, without one gaining the upper hand. Seeing that it had grown late, he slipped back into the cave and tightly shut the stone gate. Your old disciple had no alternative but to return here for the time being.” The Sanzang said, “How do your abilities compare with his?” The Pilgrim said, “I am not much stronger than he is. We were evenly matched in battle.”
The Sanzang had only just read the note when he handed it to the monastery abbot and said, “Could it be that your master too is a demon?” The abbot hurriedly knelt and said, “My lord, my master is a human being. It is only because the Black Great King cultivated himself into human form and often came to the temple to discuss the scriptures with my master that he taught my master some methods for nourishing the spirit and regulating the breath. Thus they addressed each other as friends.” The Pilgrim said, “These monks have no demonic aura. Each has a round head reaching Heaven and square feet treading Earth; they are merely somewhat fatter and larger than your old disciple. They are not demons. Look at the note: it says, ‘Your younger brother, Xiong Pi.’ This creature must certainly be a black bear that has become a spirit.” The Sanzang said, “I have heard the ancients say, ‘Bears resemble gibbons.’ They are all beasts. How, then, could he become a spirit?” The Pilgrim laughed and said, “Your old disciple is a beast, yet has become the Great Sage Equaling Heaven. How is he any different from me? In general, every thing in the world that possesses the nine apertures can cultivate and become an immortal.” The Sanzang then said, “You just said that his abilities were equal to yours in battle. How, then, will you defeat him and bring my kasaya back?” The Pilgrim said, “Do not concern yourself, do not concern yourself. I have a way to deal with him.”
While they were discussing the matter, the assembled monks laid out the evening meal and invited master and disciple to eat. The Sanzang ordered lamps to be lit, then went again to the front meditation hall to rest. All the monks leaned against the walls and piled up thatched shelters, each going to sleep. They left only the rear abbot’s quarters for the two abbots of the upper and lower courtyards to lodge in. At that moment the night was quiet, and one saw:
The Silver River showed its reflection; the jade vault was free of dust.
Stars glittered across the whole sky; the waters had stilled their waves.
The ten thousand sounds were hushed; birds were silent among a thousand mountains.
The fishermen’s lights beside the stream had gone out; the Buddha lamp atop the pagoda was dim.
Last night the shramana’s bells and drums resounded; this night, once again, the sound of weeping was heard.
That night they lodged in the meditation hall. The Sanzang was thinking of the kasaya—how could he sleep soundly? Suddenly he turned over and saw whiteness filtering through the window. He quickly rose and called, “Wukong, dawn has come. Hurry and seek the kasaya.” The Pilgrim leaped up with a start. Seeing all the monks standing in attendance and offering hot water, he said, “Attend carefully upon my master. Your old disciple is off.” The Sanzang got down from the bed and seized him, saying, “Where are you going?” The Pilgrim said, “I think this whole matter is Guanyin Bodhisattva’s fault. He has this monastery here, receives the incense offerings of the local people, and yet allows that monster to live next door. I am going to the Southern Sea to seek him out, reason with him, and have him personally demand the kasaya back from the monster for me.” The Sanzang said, “When will you return from this journey?” The Pilgrim said, “If it takes little time, I will be back just after the meal; if it takes longer, I will return by noon, and it will be done. You monks, attend my master well. Your old disciple is off.”
With those words, he was already gone without a trace. In a short while he arrived at the Southern Sea and halted his cloud to look around. But there he saw:
The boundless ocean stretches far, its waters joining the sky. Auspicious radiance envelops the universe; felicitous qi illumines the mountains and rivers. Layer upon layer of snowy waves roar against the blue empyrean; fold upon fold of misty billows surge through the white day. Water flies across the four wilds; waves roll all around. Water flies across the four wilds, shaking thunderous peals; waves roll all around, sounding like crashing thunderbolts. Enough of speaking of the waters—look instead at what lies within. Five-colored haze shrouds the mountain of piled treasures, red, yellow, purple, black, green, and blue. Only now have we seen Guanyin’s true victorious realm; behold the South Sea’s Luojia Mountain. What a fine place! The mountain peaks rise high, their summits piercing the void. Within are a thousand kinds of wondrous flowers and a hundred varieties of auspicious herbs. The wind sways the treasure trees; the sun shines upon the golden lotuses. The Guanyin Hall has tiles roofed with colored glaze; the Tidal-Sound Cave has doors laid with tortoiseshell. In the shadows of green poplars, parrots speak; within the purple bamboo grove, peacocks cry. Upon the net-patterned stones, the Dharma-protectors stand majestic; before the agate shoal, Mu Cha is stout and imposing.
The Pilgrim could not take in all those extraordinary sights. He went straight down upon the clouds to beneath the bamboo grove. The various devas had already come to greet him, saying, “Earlier, the Bodhisattva proclaimed before the assembly that the Great Sage had returned to goodness, and she praised him greatly. Now that you are escorting Tang Monk, how have you found time to come here?”
The Pilgrim said, “While escorting Tang Monk, I encountered an affair on the road. I have come especially to see the Bodhisattva, and trouble you to report my arrival.”
The devas accordingly went to the cave entrance to report this. The Bodhisattva summoned him inside. The Pilgrim proceeded according to the proper rites and bowed beneath the jeweled lotus platform. The Bodhisattva asked, “What have you come for?”
The Pilgrim said, “My master encountered your meditation monastery on the road. You receive the incense offerings of humankind and allowed a Black Bear Spirit to dwell as its neighbor there. You let him steal my master’s Buddhist robe. I have repeatedly gone to demand it, but he would not return it. I have come especially to ask you for it.”
The Bodhisattva said, “This monkey speaks so recklessly! Since the Bear Spirit stole your robe, why have you come to demand it from me? It was all because you, that wicked monkey, boldly displayed your treasure and let a petty person see it. Then you acted violently, summoned wind and raised fire, burned my Liuyun Lower Monastery, and came back here to make trouble.”
When the Pilgrim heard the Bodhisattva speak these words, he knew that she understood affairs of the past and future. He hurriedly bowed and said, “Bodhisattva, I beg you to forgive your disciple’s offense. It was indeed just so. But I only resent that monster’s refusal to give me my robe, while my master insists on reciting that particular spell, and this old Sun cannot endure the headache. Therefore I have come to bow before you and trouble you. I hope that, with the Bodhisattva’s compassionate heart, you will help me seize that demon, recover the robe, and proceed westward.”
The Bodhisattva said, “That monster possesses many supernatural powers, and he is in no way inferior to you. Very well. For Tang Monk’s sake, I shall go with you on this journey.”
Hearing this, the Pilgrim thanked her and bowed again. He immediately invited the Bodhisattva to leave the gate. Together they rode an auspicious cloud, and soon arrived at Black Rooster Mountain. They descended from the cloud and followed the road in search of the cave.
As they proceeded, a Daoist emerged from before the mountain slope. In his hand he carried a glass plate, upon which were placed two immortal pills, and he was walking forward. The Pilgrim collided with him head-on, drew his cudgel, and struck him once upon the head. Brain pulp flowed out, and blood burst from his chest. The Bodhisattva was greatly startled and said, “You monkey, you are still behaving this outrageously! He had never stolen your robe, never even known you, and had no grievance or enmity with you. How could you simply beat him to death?”
The Pilgrim said, “Bodhisattva, you do not recognize him. He is a friend of that Black Bear Spirit. Yesterday, he and a White-Clad Scholar were both sitting and expounding the teachings before Fragrant-Grass Slope. The day after tomorrow is the Black Spirit’s birthday, and he invited them to celebrate the Assembly of the Buddha-Robe. Today he has come first to offer birthday congratulations; tomorrow he will come to celebrate the Assembly of the Buddha-Robe. That is why I recognize him. He must have come today to offer birthday congratulations in place of that demon.”
The Bodhisattva said, “Since that is what you say, very well.”
Only then did the Pilgrim lift up the Daoist to look at him, and found that he was a gray wolf. Beneath the plate beside him were characters engraved that read: “Made by Lingxu Zi.”
When the Pilgrim saw this, he laughed and said, “Fortune, fortune! Old Sun has gained an advantage, and the Bodhisattva has been spared effort. This monster is called ‘confessing without being struck’; that monster has taught him to meet his end today.”
The Bodhisattva said, “Wukong, how are you going to explain this?”
The Pilgrim said, “Bodhisattva, your Wukong has an idea. It is called ‘using the enemy’s stratagem against him.’ I do not know whether the Bodhisattva would be willing to follow it.”
The Bodhisattva said, “Tell me.”
The Pilgrim said, “Bodhisattva, look: there are two immortal pills in this plate. They will be our gifts of introduction to that demon. The four characters engraved on the back of the plate say ‘Made by Lingxu Zi’; they will be our connection to that demon. If the Bodhisattva is willing to follow me, I can devise a plan for you. Then there will be no need to raise weapons or labor through a campaign. The demon will meet his calamity before his eyes, and the Buddhist robe will appear before his eyes. If the Bodhisattva will not follow me, then the Bodhisattva may go west and I, Wukong, will go east. Consider the Buddhist robe given away, and Tang Sanzang considered lost.”
The Bodhisattva laughed and said, “This monkey has quite a glib tongue.”
The Pilgrim said, “I dare not. It is merely a plan.”
The Bodhisattva said, “What is this plan of yours?”
The Pilgrim said, “The plate is engraved with ‘Made by Lingxu Zi.’ I suppose this Daoist is therefore called Lingxu Zi. Bodhisattva, if you are willing to follow me, transform yourself into this Daoist. I will eat one of these pills and transform into one pill, making it slightly larger. Bodhisattva, you will carry this plate with its two immortal pills and go offer birthday congratulations to that demon. Give the demon the larger pill. Once the demon swallows it in one gulp, Old Sun will take action from within. If he refuses to offer up the Buddhist robe, Old Sun will weave one from his intestines.”
The Bodhisattva had no alternative but to nod and agree. The Pilgrim laughed and said, “How about it?”
At that time, the Bodhisattva, through vast and great compassion, boundless Dharma power, and tens of millions of transformations, united heart with intent and intent with body. In a moment, she transformed into Lingxu Xianzi:
The crane-cloak bears the immortal wind, rustling;
I drift as though about to step into the void.
My ashen countenance is old as pine and cypress;
My lovely hue has no equal in ancient or modern times.
Going and going, I still have nowhere to stay;
In suchness itself, I naturally possess the extraordinary.
In the end, all returns to a single Dharma;
It is only that the evil body stands between.
The Pilgrim looked and said, “Wonderful, wonderful! Is this a demon that is the Bodhisattva, or a Bodhisattva that is a demon?”
The Bodhisattva laughed and said, “Wukong, Bodhisattva and demon are all a matter of a single thought. If one speaks of their original nature, both belong to nonexistence.”
The Pilgrim suddenly attained enlightenment in his heart. Turning around, he transformed himself into an immortal pill:
Rolling upon the plate, it is never unstable;
Perfectly bright, it has never possessed a form.
Three threes, the Gou and Lu cauldrons joined;
Six sixes, Shaoweng’s bargain made.
Tiles melt beneath the flame of gold;
The mani radiates in broad daylight.
Lead and mercury lie beyond;
They have not yet been permitted easy measurement.
The Pilgrim transformed into that pill, making it ultimately just a little larger. The Bodhisattva identified it, took up the glass plate, and went straight to the demon’s cave entrance. When she looked, it was indeed:
The cliffs were deep and the peaks perilous, clouds rising above the ridges; the cypresses were gray and the pines emerald, the wind rustling among the woods. The cliffs were deep and the peaks perilous—truly, demons and evil spirits emerged here, where human habitation was scarce. The cypresses were gray and the pines emerald—a place where immortals and perfected beings might cultivate in seclusion, with abundant Daoist feeling. The mountain had ravines, and the ravines had springs; the murmuring water choked out notes like a zither, fit for washing the ears. The cliffs had deer, and the woods had cranes; secluded immortal sounds stirred among the distant peaks, also fit for delighting the heart. This was where a demon immortal, having an affinity, descended to Bodhi, while a vast universal vow extended compassion without limit.
When the Bodhisattva saw this, she secretly rejoiced in her heart and said, “This wicked beast has occupied this mountain cave, yet he does possess a measure of Daoist attainment.”
Thus, compassion had already arisen within her heart.
When they reached the entrance of the cave, they saw that the little demons guarding it recognized him to some extent, saying, “Immortal Elder Lingxu has arrived.” As they sent word, they ushered him in. The demon had already come out to welcome him, saying, “Lingxu, we are honored by your immortal presence. Your visit lends glory to this humble dwelling.” The Bodhisattva said, “This humble Daoist respectfully offers a single immortal pill; I venture to call it a thousand years of longevity.” After the two of them had bowed, they sat down and again spoke of what had happened to him the day before. The Bodhisattva did not answer, but quickly took out the pill tray and said, “Great King, please see this humble Daoist’s slight offering.” He selected the larger pill, pushed it toward the demon, and said, “May the Great King enjoy a thousand years of longevity.” The demon likewise pushed one pill over and handed it to the Bodhisattva, saying, “May you and Lingxuzi share the same.” After they had deferred to each other, the demon was just about to swallow his when the medicine rolled straight down his throat. His true form appeared, his four limbs stiffened, and the demon rolled over on the ground. The Bodhisattva revealed her true form and took the Buddhist robe from the demon. Wukong had already gone out through the demon’s nostril. The Bodhisattva also feared that the demon might be insolent, so she tossed a hoop onto the demon’s head. The demon rose and raised his spear to stab, but Wukong and the Bodhisattva had already risen into the air and began reciting the true words. The monster’s head still ached as before; he dropped his spear and rolled wildly all over the ground. In midair, the Handsome Monkey King laughed himself helpless; upon the level ground, the Black Bear Monster rolled himself senseless.
The Bodhisattva said, “Wretched beast, will you now take refuge?” The monster said repeatedly, “My heart wishes to take refuge; I only hope you will spare my life.” Wukong feared that time would be wasted and intended to strike him. The Bodhisattva hurriedly stopped him, saying, “Do not take his life. I have a use for him.” Wukong said, “With such a monster, if we do not beat him to death, where could we possibly keep him for use?” The Bodhisattva said, “Behind my Mount Luojia there is no one to keep watch. I shall take him there to serve as a Great Guardian Deity of the Mountain.” Wukong laughed and said, “Indeed, you are truly the Compassionate Venerable One who saves from suffering, harming not even a single spirit. If old Sun had such a spell, I would recite it a thousand times over his mother. This time there would be many Black Bears, and I would make him settle their accounts.” But the monster had been awake for some time, and truly could not endure the pain; he could only kneel on the ground and plead mournfully, saying, “So long as you spare my life, I am willing to take refuge in the true fruition.” Only then did the Bodhisattva descend amid auspicious light; she again rubbed his crown and gave him the precepts, then made him take up his long spear and follow at her side. The Black Bear’s wild heart was settled today, and his boundless stubborn nature was restrained at this moment.
The Bodhisattva instructed him, “Wukong, go back. Serve Tang Monk properly, and from now on never again be negligent or cause trouble.” Wukong said, “I am deeply grateful that the Bodhisattva has come from afar; your disciple should still escort you for a while.” The Bodhisattva said, “There is no need to escort me.” Only then did Wukong hold up the cassock, knock his head on the ground, and take his leave. The Bodhisattva also took the bear demon and went straight back to the great sea. A poem bears witness. The poem says:
Auspicious mists gather around the golden image,
Myriad radiant rays, truly worthy of praise.
Universally aiding the people of the world, she extends compassion;
Throughout the Dharma realm, golden lotuses appear.
Coming now was chiefly for the purpose of transmitting the scriptures;
Departing hence, she bore not a single blemish.
Having subdued the monster and made him true, she returned to the great sea;
The Buddhist gate once more regained its brocade cassock.
In the end, how matters turned out afterward remains unknown; listen to the explanation in the next installment.