OriginChapter 14
The poem says:
Buddha is mind, and mind is Buddha;
Mind and Buddha have ever both been essential things.
If you know that there is no thing and no mind,
Then this is the true mind, the Buddha of the Dharma Body.
The Buddha of the Dharma Body has no appearance;
A single round radiance contains the myriad forms.
The body without a body is the true body;
The appearance without an appearance is the true appearance.
Neither form nor emptiness nor non-emptiness,
Neither coming, going toward, nor turning back.
Neither different nor the same, neither existent nor nonexistent,
Hard to relinquish, hard to take, hard to hear, hard to behold.
Within and without, the numinous light is the same everywhere;
One Buddha-land is within a single grain of sand.
A single grain of sand contains the great thousand worlds;
One body and one mind are the same as the ten thousand Dharma-things.
To know this, one must master the secret of no-mind;
Unstained and unimpeded is pure karma.
With a thousand kinds of good and evil, nothing is done;
This is precisely Namo Shakyamuni.
Now, Liu Boqin and Tang Sanzang were terribly frightened, and then they heard a cry: “The master has come!” The household servants said: “The one crying must certainly be that old ape in the stone casket at the foot of the mountain.” The Taibao said: “It is he, it is he.” Sanzang asked: “What old ape?” The Taibao said: “This mountain was formerly called Five Phases Mountain. Because the King of Great Tang conquered the west and settled the state, its name was changed to Two-Boundary Mountain. In former years, I once heard an old man say that when Wang Mang usurped the Han, Heaven sent down this mountain, pressing beneath it a divine monkey who feared neither cold nor heat and ate and drank nothing. The Earth Gods themselves were assigned to watch over him, making him eat iron pellets when hungry and drink molten copper when thirsty. From ancient times until now, he has not died of freezing or hunger. This cry must certainly be his. Elder, do not be afraid. Let us go down the mountain and have a look.” Sanzang had no choice but to comply, and he led the horse down the mountain. After traveling no more than several li, they saw that between the stones there indeed was a monkey, with his head exposed and his hands extended, waving wildly as he cried: “Master, why have you only come now? How good that you have come, how good! Rescue me and let me out, and I will protect you on your journey to the Western Heaven.” The elder came closer for a careful look. What was his appearance like, you ask?
He had a pointed mouth and sunken cheeks, golden eyes and fiery pupils. Moss and lichen were piled upon his head; vines grew inside his ears. Beside his temples there was little hair but much green grass, and beneath his chin there was no beard but green sedge. There was earth between his brows and mud in the hollows of his nose; he was utterly wretched. His fingers were coarse, his palms thick, and dust and grime remained in abundance. Fortunately, his eyes could still turn and his throat and tongue could still make sounds. Though his speech was fluent, his body could not move. He was indeed the Great Sage Sun from five hundred years ago, but today he was still unable to escape Heaven’s net.
Liu Taibao was truly bold. He stepped forward, pulled away the grass beside his temples and the sedge beneath his chin, and asked: “What have you to say?” The monkey said: “I have nothing to say. Have that master come up here; I have one question to ask him.” Sanzang said: “What do you wish to ask me?” The monkey said: “Are you the one dispatched by the great king of the Eastern Land to journey to the Western Heaven to obtain the scriptures?” Sanzang said: “I am indeed. Why do you ask?” The monkey said: “I am the Great Sage Equaling Heaven who caused havoc in Heaven five hundred years ago. Because I committed the crime of deceiving my superiors, I was pressed beneath this place by the Buddha Patriarch. Earlier, a Guanyin Bodhisattva came, bearing the Buddha’s decree, to the Eastern Land in search of a scripture-seeker. I asked him to rescue me, and he urged me never again to commit violence, but to take refuge in the Buddha-Dharma, to protect the scripture-seeker with all diligence, and to journey west to pay homage to the Buddha; after the task was completed, there would naturally be benefits for me. Thus, day and night I have been anxious, at dawn and dusk on tenterhooks, waiting only for you, Master, to come and rescue me from this place. I am willing to protect you in obtaining the scriptures and become your disciple.” Hearing this, Sanzang’s heart was filled with joy, and he said: “Though you possess this good intention and have received the Bodhisattva’s instruction, wishing to enter the Buddhist order, I have neither axe nor chisel. How can I rescue you?” The monkey said: “No axe or chisel is needed. If only you are willing to rescue me, I can come out by myself.” Sanzang said: “If I rescue you myself, how will you come out?” The monkey said: “At the summit of this mountain is a golden-lettered suppression notice from my Buddha, the Tathagata. You need only go up the mountain and lift away the notice, and I will come out.” Sanzang followed his words and turned back to entreat Liu Boqin: “Taibao, let us go up the mountain together.” Boqin said: “Who knows whether it is true or false?” The monkey cried out loudly: “It is true; I would never dare to deceive you.”
Boqin had no choice but to call for the household servants and lead the horses. He supported Sanzang as they again climbed the high mountain. Clinging to vines and grasping creepers, they traveled until they reached the highest summit, where they indeed saw ten thousand rays of golden light and a thousand bands of auspicious vapors. There was a large square stone, and pasted upon the stone was a sealed strip bearing six golden characters: “唵嘛呢叭𠺗吽.” Sanzang went forward, knelt down, looked toward the golden characters on the stone, and bowed several times. Facing west, he prayed: “Your disciple Chen Xuanzang has specially received an imperial decree to seek the scriptures. If indeed I am destined to have a disciple, may I lift these golden characters, rescue the divine monkey, and together reach Ling Mountain; but if I am not destined to have a disciple, then this fellow is a ferocious, stubborn monster, deceiving and tricking your disciple. May it fail to bring good fortune, and may I be unable to lift it.” Having finished his prayer, he bowed again. When he had finished bowing, he stepped forward and gently lifted away the six golden characters. Suddenly, a fragrant wind arose and snatched the suppression notice into the air, crying: “I am the one assigned to oversee the Great Sage. Today his ordeal is complete. We shall return to meet the Tathagata and deliver this sealed strip.” Sanzang and Boqin, along with all the others, were so frightened that they bowed toward the empty sky. They went straight down the high mountain and again reached the edge of the stone casket. To the monkey they said: “The suppression notice has been lifted. You may come out now.” The monkey rejoiced and cried: “Master, please move a little farther away so that I can come out without frightening you.”
When Boqin heard this, he led Sanzang and all the others straight eastward. After they had gone about five or seven li, they again heard the monkey cry loudly: “Go farther, go farther.” Sanzang walked on a long distance farther and descended the mountain. Then they heard a tremendous crash—it was truly as though the earth split and the mountain collapsed. Everyone was terrified. They saw that the monkey had already reached Sanzang’s horse, kneeling stark naked and saying: “Master, I have come out.” He bowed four times to Sanzang, then quickly rose and gave Boqin a formal greeting, saying: “You have gone to great trouble, elder brother, to escort my master, and I am also indebted to elder brother for pulling the grass from my face.” After giving his thanks, he went to gather the luggage and load it onto the horse. When the horse saw him, its waist weakened and its hooves buckled; trembling, it could barely remain standing. This was because the monkey had originally been Bimawen, the Protector of Horses, and in Heaven had been in charge of tending the dragon-horses. He possessed certain methods, and therefore ordinary horses were afraid when they saw him.
Seeing his manner, Sanzang realized that he truly possessed a good heart and was indeed like a person of the Buddhist order, so he called out: “Disciple, what is your surname?” The Monkey King said: “My surname is Sun.” Sanzang said: “I will give you a Dharma name, which will make it convenient to call you.” The Monkey King said: “There is no need to trouble yourself, Master. I already have a Dharma name: Sun Wukong.” Sanzang happily said: “That accords perfectly with our school. With your appearance, you resemble a young novice monk. I will give you a familiar name and call you Xingzhe. How is that?” Wukong said: “Good, good, good.” From that time onward, he was also called Sun Xingzhe.
When Boqin saw that Sun Xingzhe was wholeheartedly gathering his things and preparing to depart, he turned around and gave Sanzang a formal greeting: “Elder, you have fortunately acquired a good disciple here. I am very pleased, very pleased. This man will indeed be able to make the journey. I shall take my leave and return.” Sanzang bowed and made a respectful salute in thanks, saying: “You have gone to great trouble on my account, and my gratitude is beyond measure. When you return to your residence, please convey my deepest respects to your venerable mother, the old lady, and to your honored wife. I caused much disturbance while staying at your residence; when I return, I shall come again to offer my thanks in person.” Boqin returned the courtesy, and the two parties then went their separate ways.
Then Sun Xingzhe invited Sanzang onto the horse. He went ahead carrying the luggage, stark naked, walking with a crooked step. Before long, they passed Two-Boundary Mountain, when suddenly they saw a fierce tiger, roaring and lashing its tail, coming toward them. Sanzang was terrified on the horse. Xingzhe rejoiced by the roadside and said, “Master, do not fear him. He has come to send me clothing.” He put down the luggage, pulled a little needle from his ear, and held it up to the wind, whereupon it shook once and became an iron rod as thick as a bowl. Taking it in his hand, he laughed and said, “This treasure has not been used for more than five hundred years. Today I shall bring it out to struggle for a garment to wear.” Look at him striding forward to meet the fierce tiger, saying, “Beast of sin! Where are you going?” The tiger crouched down, lying in the dust, and did not dare move even a little. But he struck it squarely on the head with one blow, smashing its brains into ten thousand peach-red splashes and sending several pearls of teeth spraying out. Chen Xuanzang was so frightened that he rolled from the saddle and fell from the horse, biting his finger and crying, “Heavens! Heavens! The tiger with the variegated coat that Liu Taibao struck the other day still fought him for half a day; today Sun Wukong did not need to struggle at all, but smashed this tiger to pieces with a single blow. Truly, among the strong there is always someone stronger!”
Xingzhe dragged the tiger over and said, “Master, sit for a little while. Wait for me to take off his clothing and put it on before we continue.” Sanzang said, “Where would it have any clothing?” Xingzhe said, “Master, do not concern yourself with me. I have my own way of dealing with it.” The good Monkey King pulled out one of his hairs, blew a breath of immortal air upon it, and called, “Change!” It changed into a sharp, ox-eared knife. With it, he slit open the tiger’s belly and peeled downward, stripping off the whole hide intact. He chopped away the claws, cut off the head, and cut out a square piece of tiger skin. Lifting it up, he measured it and said, “It is a little too wide. One piece can make two.” He took up the knife again and cut it into two pieces. He put one away and wrapped the other around his waist. By the roadside he pulled up a length of kudzu vine, bound it tightly, and covered his lower body, saying, “Master, let us go, let us go. When we reach a household, we shall borrow some needle and thread and sew it later.” He twisted the iron rod once, and it became a needle again, which he put back in his ear. Carrying the luggage, he invited his master onto the horse.
The two went forward. The Elder, on the horse, asked, “Wukong, where has the iron rod with which you just struck the tiger gone?” Xingzhe laughed and said, “Master, you do not understand. This rod of mine was obtained in the Dragon Palace of the Eastern Ocean. It is called the Divine珍 Iron that Stabilizes the Bottom of the Celestial River, and it is also called the Golden-Banded Wish-Fulfilling Rod. When I once rebelled greatly against Heaven, it was of immense help to me. It changes along with me: if I want it large, it becomes large; if I want it small, it becomes small. Just now it changed into the likeness of an embroidered flower needle and was put inside my ear. Only when I need it can I take it out.” Hearing this, Sanzang secretly rejoiced. He then asked, “Just now, when that tiger saw you, why did it not move at all? It let you strike it freely—what was the reason?” Wukong said, “To speak truthfully to my master, let alone a tiger—even a dragon would not dare be discourteous upon seeing me. I, your old Sun, possess considerable means for subduing dragons and taming tigers, and supernatural powers for turning rivers and stirring seas; I can discern appearances and colors, hear sounds and perceive principles; when large, I measure against the universe, and when small, I can contain myself within a hair; my transformations have no fixed limit, and my concealment and manifestation cannot be fathomed. What is so unusual about stripping this tiger’s hide? When we reach some difficult place, you shall see me display my abilities.” Hearing these words, Sanzang became all the more relieved and free of worry, and urged the horse onward.
The master and disciple walked along, talking as they went, and before they knew it, the sun had sunk in the west. They saw only:
The blazing slanting glow returned its light,
Clouds at the ends of heaven and corners of sea came home.
Birds and sparrows in a thousand mountains cried out repeatedly,
Seeking lodging and entering the forests in ranks.
Wild beasts went in pairs and twos,
Returning to their nests, clan after clan and group after group.
A new moon’s hook broke through dusk,
Ten thousand points of stars shone with halos.
Xingzhe said, “Master, walk a little faster; it is getting late. Over there the trees are thick and dark. It must be some household’s village estate. Let us hurry to seek lodging.” Sanzang indeed urged the horse forward, making straight for the household, and dismounted before the village estate. Xingzhe cast down the luggage, stepped forward, and called, “Open the door! Open the door!” From inside, an old man came out leaning on a staff and opened the door with a clatter. Seeing Xingzhe’s dreadful appearance, with a piece of tiger skin tied around his waist, looking much like a Thunder Duke, he was so frightened that his legs weakened and his body went numb, and he babbled, “A ghost has come! A ghost has come!” Sanzang came forward and supported him, calling, “Old benefactor, do not be afraid. He is my poor monk’s disciple, not a ghost or monster.” The old man raised his head, and seeing Sanzang’s face, pure and extraordinary, finally steadied himself. He asked, “From which temple have you come, monk, bringing this evil man to my door?” Sanzang said, “I, your poor monk, have come from the Tang dynasty and am going west to worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures. We happened to pass through this place, and as it is late, we have specially come to your honorable residence to borrow lodging for one night. Tomorrow morning we shall depart before daylight. I earnestly hope you will be so kind.” The old man said, “Although you are a man of Tang, that evil one is certainly not a man of Tang.” Wukong shouted fiercely, “You old fellow have no eyes at all! The man of Tang is my master, and I am his disciple. I am not some candy person or honey person; I am the Great Sage Equaling Heaven! There are families here who recognize me. I have seen you before as well.” The old man said, “Where have you seen me?” Wukong said, “When you were young, did you not gather firewood before me? Did you not pick vegetables upon my face?” The old man said, “This fellow is talking nonsense! Where did you live? Where did I live? When did I gather firewood and pick vegetables before you?” Wukong said, “My child, you are talking nonsense. You no longer recognize me. I was the Great Sage in the stone casket of Two-Boundary Mountain. Look again and see.” Only then did the old man awaken to the truth and say, “You do look somewhat like him. But how did you get out?” Wukong told the old man in detail how the Bodhisattva had exhorted him toward goodness and ordered him to wait for Tang Sanzang to remove the talisman and free him.
The old man then bowed, invited Tang Sanzang inside, and immediately called his old wife and sons and daughters to come meet him. He related all that had happened before, and each one was delighted. He also ordered tea to be served. After the tea, he asked Wukong, “Great Sage, you have lived quite a long time, have you not?” Wukong said, “How old are you this year?” The old man said, “I have foolishly grown to the age of one hundred and thirty.” Xingzhe said, “I have sons and grandsons many generations over. As for the age from my birth, I do not remember when it was; but I have already been here at the foot of this mountain for more than five hundred years.” The old man said, “There is such a thing, there is such a thing. I remember my great-grandfather saying that this mountain descended from Heaven and pressed down upon a divine monkey. Only now have you escaped from it. When I was young and saw you, there was grass on your head and mud on your face, and I was not afraid of you. Now there is no mud on your face and no grass on your head, yet you seem somewhat thinner, and you have again covered your waist with a great tiger skin. How much do you differ from a ghost or monster?” When everyone in the household heard him say this, they all laughed heartily.
This old man was quite worthy, and immediately ordered a vegetarian meal to be prepared. After the meal, Wukong asked, “What is your family surname?” The old man said, “Our humble household’s surname is Chen.” Hearing this, Sanzang dismounted and saluted with joined hands, saying, “Old benefactor, you and this poor monk belong to the same clan.” Xingzhe said, “Master, you bear the surname Tang. How can you belong to the same clan as him?” Sanzang said, “My lay surname is also Chen. I am a native of Juxian Village in Hongnong Commandery of Haizhou, Tang dynasty. My Dharma name is Chen Xuanzang. Only because the Emperor Taizong of our Great Tang bestowed upon me the title of Imperial Younger Brother Sanzang, taking Tang as my surname, am I therefore called Tang Sanzang.” When the old man heard that they shared the same surname, he was exceedingly delighted.
The Pilgrim said, “Old Chen, I have troubled your household from every side. I have gone more than five hundred years without bathing. Could you go and boil some hot water for my master and me to wash ourselves, and in the same stroke let me thank you before we depart?”
The old man immediately ordered hot water boiled and basins brought, and held up the lamps. After the master and disciple had bathed, they sat before the lamp. The Pilgrim said, “Old Chen, there is one more matter in which I must trouble you: do you have needle and thread that I might borrow?”
The old man said, “Yes, yes, yes.” He at once told Mother to fetch needle and thread, and handed them to the Pilgrim. The Pilgrim was sharp-eyed as ever. Seeing that his master, after bathing, had taken off a white cloth short straight-collar robe and had not put it on again, he immediately snatched it over and draped it around himself. Then he took off the tiger skin and joined its pieces together. He made a fold shaped like a horse’s face, wrapped it around his waist, and fastened it with a rattan cord. He went before his master and said, “Your old Sun is dressed like this today. How does it compare with yesterday?”
Sanzang said, “Good, good, good. Dressed like this, you finally look like a Pilgrim.”
Sanzang said, “Disciple, if you do not mind its being worn and tattered, you may as well wear that straight-collar robe.”
Wukong bowed and said, “I accept your gift, I accept your gift.”
He then went to find some fodder and feed the horse. At that time all their affairs were finished, and the master and disciple, as well as the old man, each returned to bed.
Early the next morning, Wukong rose and asked his master to set out. Sanzang put on his clothes and told the Pilgrim to gather the bedding and luggage. Just as they were about to take their leave, they saw that the old man had already prepared face-washing water and a vegetarian meal. Only after the meal did they rise and set out. Sanzang mounted the horse, and the Pilgrim led the way. Before they knew it, they were eating when hungry, drinking when thirsty, spending the nights on the road and traveling at dawn. It was again the beginning of winter, and they saw:
Frost withers red leaves, leaving a thousand forests thin,
On the ridges a few pines and cypresses flourish still.
Unopened plum blossoms scatter a secluded fragrance,
The warm days are short—the Lesser Spring season—
The chrysanthemums fade, the lotuses die, yet the camellias thrive;
By cold bridges, ancient trees vie, branches wrestling for the sky.
Through winding ravines, trickling springs run on;
Pale clouds, as if bearing snow, float across the heavens.
The northern wind comes suddenly, tugging at sleeves—
Toward evening, how can anyone endure its frozen might?
The master and disciple had been traveling for some time when suddenly there came a whistle from beside the road, and six men burst out. Each held a long spear or short sword, sharp blades or powerful bows. With a great shout they said, “Where does that monk think he is going? Quickly leave behind your horses, put down your luggage, and we will spare your life and let you pass.”
Sanzang was so terrified that his soul flew from his body. He fell from the horse and could not speak. The Pilgrim helped him up with his hand and said, “Master, do not worry. Nothing is the matter. These are all here to give us clothes and travel expenses.”
Sanzang said, “Wukong, it seems your ears are somewhat stopped up. They told us to leave the horses and luggage behind, yet you ask them what clothes and travel expenses they want to give us.”
The Pilgrim said, “You guard the clothes, luggage, and horse. Let your old Sun contend with them for a while and see how it turns out.”
Sanzang said, “A skilled hand cannot defeat two fists, and two fists are no match for four hands. They have six great men there, while you are only one small person like this. How dare you contend with them?”
The Pilgrim’s courage had always been great. He allowed no further discussion, but walked forward, crossed his hands before his chest, and saluted the six men, saying, “Gentlemen, for what reason do you obstruct the road of this poor monk?”
The men said, “We are kings who cut off travelers on the road, mountain lords who do good deeds. Our great names have long been spread abroad; surely you cannot claim not to know them. Quickly leave your things behind and we will let you pass. If you utter even half a word of ‘no,’ we will reduce you to shattered corpse and powdered bones.”
The Pilgrim said, “I too am a king inherited from my ancestors, a mountain lord of many years, yet I have never heard what great names you gentlemen possess.”
The man said, “You do not know, so I shall tell you: one is called Eye-seeing Joy, one is called Ear-hearing Anger, one is called Nose-smelling Love, one is called Tongue-tasting Thought, one is called Mind-seeing Desire, and one is called Body-root Sorrow.”
Wukong laughed and said, “So you are merely six hairy bandits. Yet you do not recognize that this Buddhist monk is your master, and you have come to block the road. Bring out the treasures you have robbed. I shall divide them equally into seven shares with you, and then I will spare you.”
Hearing this, the bandit who was Joy became joyful, the one who was Anger became angry, the one who was Love became loving, the one who was Thought became thoughtful, the one who was Desire became desirous, and the one who was Sorrow became sorrowful. All together they came forward, shouting in confusion: “This monk is insolent. You have nothing at all, yet you turn around and demand a share of our things.”
They swung spears and brandished swords, pressing forward in a mass, and hacked wildly at the Pilgrim’s head. Clang, clang, clash, clash—they struck him seventy or eighty times. Wukong stood motionless in the middle, as though he knew nothing of it.
The bandits said, “Good monk, your head truly is hard.”
The Pilgrim laughed and said, “It was just barely bearable. Your hands have grown tired from striking. Now it is time for your old Sun to take out a little needle and play with it.”
The bandits said, “This monk must be a physician who practices acupuncture. We have no ailments. Why are you talking about using needles?”
The Pilgrim reached into his ear and pulled out an embroidery needle. He waved it once in the wind, and it became an iron staff fully as thick as a bowl. Holding it in his hand, he said, “Do not run. Let your old Sun strike you once and try his hand.”
The six bandits were terrified and fled in all directions. Stretching out his stride, he caught up with them one by one and beat every one of them to death. He stripped off their clothes, took their travel expenses, and came back smiling broadly, saying, “Master, please proceed. Your old Sun has wiped out those bandits.”
Sanzang said, “You have brought terrible trouble upon us. Though they were strong men who cut off travelers on the road, even if they had been taken before the authorities, they would not have deserved the death penalty. Though you possess such abilities, you should merely have driven them away. How could you kill them all? This is the needless taking of human lives. How can you be a monk? A person who has left home sweeps the ground for fear of harming the lives of ants, and cherishes moths by placing gauze around the lamp. How could you fail to distinguish right from wrong and beat them all to death at one stroke? You have not the slightest heart of compassion or love of goodness. It is fortunate that we are still in the wilderness, where no one investigates such matters. If we reach a city, and someone happens to offend you, you will also commit violence, seize your staff, and beat people at random, injuring them. How could I remain an innocent bystander? How could I escape?”
Wukong said, “Master, if I had not killed them, they would have killed you.”
Sanzang said, “I, a person who has left home, would rather die than dare to commit violence. Even if I died, it would only be one body, whereas you killed all six of them. How could that be explained? If this matter were reported to the authorities, even if your old father were an official, he could not talk his way out of it.”
The Pilgrim said, “Not to conceal it from you, Master, five hundred years ago, when your old Sun proclaimed himself king of Flower-Fruit Mountain and became a monster, I do not even know how many people I beat to death. If I had been brought before the authorities as you say, I would have received quite a few indictments, and I would never have become the Great Sage Equaling Heaven.”
Sanzang said, “Because no one restrained or governed you, you acted violently throughout the human realm, deceived Heaven and deluded your superiors, and thus suffered that calamity five hundred years ago. Now that you have entered the Buddhist order, if you still commit violence as you did then and persist in taking lives, you will not reach the Western Heaven and cannot be a monk. Too wicked! Too wicked!”
As it happened, this monkey could never endure the anger of others. Seeing that Sanzang continued to mutter and nag, he could no longer restrain the fire rising in his heart and said, “Since you insist on saying that I cannot be a monk and cannot reach the Western Heaven, there is no need to keep nagging and abusing me like this. I will go back, then.”
But Sanzang did not answer. He simply gave way to his temper, sprang into the air, and said, “Your old Sun is leaving!”
Sanzang hurriedly raised his head, but he was already gone. He heard only a whoosh as the Pilgrim flew back toward the east. He left the Elder standing utterly alone. Shaking his head, he sighed and lamented without end, saying, “This fellow will not accept instruction. I merely said a few words to him—how could he vanish without a trace and go straight back? Enough, enough, enough. It seems that in my destiny I was not meant to take on a disciple or add another person to my household. Now, if I wish to seek him, there is nowhere to seek him; if I wish to call him, he will not answer. Go, then, go.”
Indeed:
Risking life and limb, I journey westward;
Do not rely on another to rule your course.
The elder had no choice but to gather up his luggage and tie it upon the horse. He did not ride the horse, but held a tin staff in one hand and clutched the reins in the other, desolate and forlorn, proceeding westward. After traveling not far, he saw ahead on the mountain road an aged old mother of advanced years, carrying a cotton garment, with a flowered cap upon it. Sanzang saw that she had come very near, and hurriedly led the horse to the right side to let her pass. The old mother asked, “From where have you come, elder, traveling here all alone and forlorn?” Sanzang said, “Your disciple is one dispatched by Great Tang of the Eastern Land to go west to worship the Living Buddha and seek the true scriptures.” The old mother said, “The Buddha of the West is in the territory of Tianzhu, at the Great Thunderclap Monastery; from here there are one hundred and eight thousand *li* of road. You are alone with a single horse, with neither companion nor disciple—how can you get there?” Sanzang said, “A few days ago your disciple accepted a disciple. He was wild and fierce by nature. I spoke several words to him, but he would not accept instruction, and so he disappeared and went away.” The old mother said, “I have here a cotton cloth *zhiduo* robe and a cap inlaid with gold flowers. They originally belonged to my son. He was a monk for only three days, but unfortunately his life was short and he died. I went just now to his monastery and wept there, took leave of his master, and brought these two garments, the robe and cap, as keepsakes. Elder, since you have a disciple, I shall give these garments and cap to you.” Sanzang said, “I receive the old mother’s generous gift with gratitude, but my disciple has already gone away, and I dare not accept them.” The old mother said, “Which way did he go?” Sanzang said, “I heard a whoosh, and he went back east.” The old mother said, “The east is not far; my home is there. He must have gone to my house. I also have there a spell called the ‘True Words for Stabilizing the Mind,’ also named the ‘Tightening-Circlet Spell.’ You must secretly memorize it thoroughly, firmly keep it in your heart, and never let a single person know of it. I shall go catch up with him and have him return to follow you. You must then put this robe and cap upon him. If he will not submit to your commands, silently recite this spell; then he will no longer dare to act fiercely, nor will he dare to leave again.” Hearing this, Sanzang bowed his head and gave thanks. The old mother transformed into a streak of golden light and returned eastward. Sanzang knew in his heart that it was the Bodhisattva Guanyin who had bestowed these true words, and he hurriedly gathered earth, burned incense, and respectfully bowed toward the east. After bowing, he gathered up the robe and cap and hid them in the middle of his bundle. He then sat beside the road and recited and practiced those True Words for Stabilizing the Mind. He recited them back and forth several times, until he knew them perfectly and firmly remembered them in his heart; this need not be mentioned further.
Now, Wukong took leave of his master and, upon a single somersault cloud, went straight back to the Eastern Ocean. He brought the cloud to a halt, parted the waterway, and went directly to the front of the Crystal Palace. The Dragon King was already alarmed and had come out to welcome him; he received him into the palace and had him sit down. After the rites were completed, the Dragon King said, “I recently heard that the Great Sage’s difficulties have ended—congratulations! Surely you have reestablished your immortal mountain and returned to your ancient cave?” Wukong said, “I had such intentions myself, but I have become a monk again.” The Dragon King said, “What sort of monk?” The Pilgrim said, “Thanks to the Bodhisattva of the South Sea, who exhorted me toward goodness and taught me to attain the true fruition, I followed the Tang monk of the Eastern Land west to worship the Buddha, took refuge in the Buddhist order, and was again called the Pilgrim.” The Dragon King said, “This truly is worthy of congratulations, worthy of congratulations. This is what is called reforming evil and returning to righteousness, and disciplining oneself to cultivate a good heart. Since that is so, why did you not go west, but instead turn back east?” The Pilgrim laughed and said, “That Tang monk does not understand human nature. Some petty bandits blocked the road, and I beat them to death. The Tang monk then kept nagging and complaining, saying a great many things against me. Do you think your old Grandfather Sun is one who can endure such vexation? I abandoned him, intending to return to my native mountain. Thus I first came to pay you a visit and ask for a cup of tea.” The Dragon King said, “Your descent honors me, your descent honors me.” At that moment, the dragon sons and dragon grandsons brought fragrant tea and offered it.
After the tea, the Pilgrim turned his head and looked, and saw a painting hanging on the rear wall, depicting “Zhang Liang Entering Shoes at the Yi Bridge.” The Pilgrim said, “What scene is this?” The Dragon King said, “The Great Sage was born first, and this event happened later, so you do not recognize it. This is called ‘Three Times Entering Shoes at the Yi Bridge.’” The Pilgrim said, “How was it ‘Three Times Entering Shoes’?” The Dragon King said, “This immortal was Huang Shigong, and this youth was Zhang Liang of the Han age. Shigong sat upon the Yi Bridge and suddenly dropped his shoe beneath the bridge, so he called Zhang Liang to retrieve it. This youth immediately fetched it and knelt to offer it before him. This happened three times, and Zhang Liang showed not the slightest trace of arrogance or negligence. Shigong therefore came to love his diligence and carefulness, taught him the Celestial Book at night, and charged him to assist the Han. Later, he indeed planned within the tent and determined victory a thousand *li* away. After peace was achieved, he abandoned his office and returned to the mountains, traveled with Chisongzi, and awakened to become an immortal. Great Sage, if you do not protect the Tang monk, do not devote yourself fully to your labor, and do not accept instruction, in the end you will be nothing more than a demon immortal; do not dream of attaining the true fruition.” Hearing this, Wukong pondered for half a day without speaking. The Dragon King said, “The Great Sage must decide the matter for himself. You must not seek ease and thereby ruin your future.” Wukong said, “Say no more. Your old Grandfather Sun will go protect him, that is all.” The Dragon King happily said, “Since that is so, I dare not detain you longer. I ask the Great Sage to set forth at once out of compassion; do not leave your master neglected for long.”
Seeing that he was urging him to depart, the Pilgrim hurriedly sprang up, left the ocean treasury, mounted his cloud, and took leave of the Dragon King. As he was traveling, he encountered the Bodhisattva of the South Sea. The Bodhisattva said, “Sun Wukong, why did you not accept instruction and protect the Tang monk? What are you doing here?” The Pilgrim, greatly alarmed, performed a salute in the clouds and said, “Previously I received the Bodhisattva’s kind words. Indeed, a monk from Tang came, removed the sealing talisman, saved my life, and I became his disciple. But he blamed me for being fierce and unruly, so I merely slipped away from him for a while. Now I am going to protect him.” The Bodhisattva said, “Go quickly; do not miss the opportunity.” Having finished speaking, each returned to his own place.
In an instant, the Pilgrim saw Tang Sanzang sitting gloomily beside the road. He went forward and said, “Master, why are you not traveling? What are you still doing here?” Sanzang raised his head and said, “Where did you go? You told me to travel, yet I did not dare travel; I did not dare move. I could only remain here waiting for you.” The Pilgrim said, “I went to the home of the old Dragon King in the Eastern Ocean to ask for some tea to drink.” Sanzang said, “Disciple, members of the monastic life must not tell lies. You had not been gone from me for even an hour, and you say you went to the Dragon King’s home to drink tea?” The Pilgrim laughed and said, “I will not conceal it from you, Master: I can ride a somersault cloud. One somersault carries me one hundred and eight thousand *li*, and so I can go and return at once.” Sanzang said, “I spoke only a little too sternly, and you took offense, indulged your temper, and abandoned me. Someone with your abilities can obtain tea to drink; someone like me, who cannot go anywhere, can only remain here enduring hunger. Do you not feel uneasy about that?” The Pilgrim said, “Master, if you are hungry, I shall go beg some vegetarian food for you.” Sanzang said, “There is no need to beg for food. There is still some dry provisions in my bundle, which the mother of Liu Taibao gave me. Go take the alms bowl and find some water, and let me eat a little before we continue on the road.”
The Pilgrim went to untie the bundle. In the middle of the package he saw several coarse-flour baked cakes, which he took out and handed to his master. He also saw a gleaming robe of cotton cloth and a cap inlaid with gold flowers. The Pilgrim said, “Were these robe and cap brought from the Eastern Land?” Sanzang casually answered, “They are what I wore when I was young. If this cap is put on, without being taught the scriptures one will be able to recite them; if this robe is put on, without rehearsing the rites one will be able to perform them.” The Pilgrim said, “Good master, give them to me to wear.” Sanzang said, “I only fear they may not be the right length. If you can wear them, then wear them.” The Pilgrim thereupon took off his old white-cloth robe and put on the cotton-cloth robe, which happened to be tailored to the measure of his body. He put on the cap as well. When Sanzang saw him put on the cap, he did not eat the dry provisions, but silently recited the Tightening-Crown Spell once. The Pilgrim cried, “My head hurts, my head hurts.” His master continued reciting it several more times, making the Pilgrim roll about and tear the gold-inlaid flowered cap. Sanzang then feared that the golden fillet might be pulled apart, and stopped reciting. When he did not recite it, the Pilgrim no longer felt pain. He reached up and felt his head; it was shaped like a golden thread, tightly fastened around it. It could not be taken off or pulled apart—it had already taken root. He then took a needle from his ear, inserted it beneath the fillet, and randomly scraped outward. Sanzang again feared that he might scrape it apart, and began reciting once more. The Pilgrim again felt pain—pain so severe that he stood on his head, turned somersaults, his ears red and face flushed, his eyes swollen and his body numb. Seeing him like this, the master could neither bear nor abandon him, and again stopped reciting. His head no longer hurt. The Pilgrim said, “So it was my master who cursed my head?” Sanzang said, “What I recited was the Tightening-Fillet Scripture; when did I ever curse you?” The Pilgrim said, “Recite it again and see.” Sanzang truly did recite it again. The Pilgrim truly hurt again, crying only, “Do not recite it, do not recite it. When you recite it, I feel pain. What is the meaning of this?” Sanzang said, “Will you now listen to my admonitions?” The Pilgrim said, “I will listen to your teachings.” “Will you be discourteous again?” The Pilgrim said, “I dare not.”
Although he gave his answer aloud, in his heart he still harbored ill intent. He waved the needle once, and it became as thick as a bowl; he was about to strike Tang Sanzang. In his panic, the Elder recited it another two or three times. The monkey fell to the ground, dropped his iron staff, and could not lift his hands, crying only, “Master, I understand now. Do not recite it again, do not recite it again.” Sanzang said, “How could you deceive your own heart and dare strike me?” The Pilgrim said, “I never dared strike you. I ask you, Master: who taught you this method?” Sanzang said, “An old mother just now passed it on to me.” The Pilgrim flew into a rage. “There is no need to say more. This old mother must certainly have been that Guanyin. Why did she harm me so? I will go to the Southern Sea and strike her.” Sanzang said, “Since it was she who transmitted this method to me, she must already know it first. If you seek her out and she begins reciting it, would you not then be dead?” Seeing that there was reason in this, the Pilgrim truly did not dare set out. He could only change his mind, kneel, and plead sorrowfully, “Master, this is the method she uses to subdue me and make me follow you westward. I will not go provoke her, and you must not take my words as ordinary talk; just keep reciting it. I am willing to protect you, and have no intention of turning back or regretting it again.” Sanzang said, “Since that is so, attend me as I mount the horse.” Only then did the Pilgrim resign himself completely. He gathered his spirit, tightened his cotton-cloth robe, secured the pack on the horse, gathered the luggage, and proceeded westward.
But what words will there be after they set out this time? Let us listen to the explanation in the next installment.