OriginChapter 15
It is told that the Pilgrim attended Tang Sanzang as he traveled westward. After journeying for several days, it was precisely the cold season of the twelfth month. The north wind was bitterly fierce, and the frozen ground was slick and glittering. The road they traveled ran among sheer cliffs, precipitous precipices, and rugged paths, over dangerous mountains of piled ridges and layered peaks. Sanzang, upon his horse, heard from afar the loud, gurgling sound of water ringing in his ears, and, turning his head, called, “Wukong, where is that sound of rushing water?” The Pilgrim said, “I remember that this place is called Eagle Sorrow Ravine on Snake-Coiling Mountain. It must be the sound of water in the ravine.” Before he had finished speaking, the horse reached the edge of the ravine, and Sanzang drew in the reins to look. He saw:
Gurgling, the cold stream-thread pierces the clouds and passes,
Deep and limpid, the clear waves reflect the sun’s red glow.
Its sound shakes the night rain, heard within the secluded valley,
Its hues release the morning clouds, dazzling the boundless sky.
Waves a thousand fathoms high fly, spraying shattered jade,
A single pool resounds, roaring against the pure wind.
Flowing away to ten thousand acres of smoky waves,
Gulls and egrets forget one another, no fisherman is met.
The master and disciple were just looking when suddenly the ravine gave a resounding roar. A dragon bored out from its midst, thrusting waves upward and tossing the waters, and sprang out from the cliff mountain to seize the Elder. The Pilgrim was so alarmed that he dropped the luggage, lifted his master down from the horse, and turned to flee. That dragon, unable to catch him, swallowed the white horse, saddle and bridle together in one gulp, then once more hid its traces beneath the water. The Pilgrim carried his master to sit upon a high mound, then returned to lead the horse and take up the luggage, but only one load of luggage remained; the horse was nowhere to be seen. He carried the luggage before his master and said, “Master, that evil dragon has also vanished without a trace; it has merely frightened away my horse.” Sanzang said, “Disciple, then how are we to find the horse?” The Pilgrim said, “Set your mind at rest, set your mind at rest. Wait for me to go and have a look.”
He gave a sharp whistle and leaped into the air. With his fiery eyes and diamond pupils, he shaded them with his hand and gazed in all four directions, yet could not see the slightest trace of the horse. He lowered the cloud and reported, “Master, our horse was certainly eaten by that dragon. Looking in every direction, I can no longer see it.” Sanzang said, “Disciple, how large a mouth could that creature have, to eat that great horse together with its saddle and bridle? Perhaps it was startled, slipped its reins, and ran into some hollow in the mountain. Look again carefully.” The Pilgrim said, “You do not know my abilities. With these eyes of mine, in broad daylight I can often see the fortunes and misfortunes of a thousand li away. Within a thousand li, even if a dragonfly spreads its wings, I can see it. How could it be that I should fail to see that great horse?” Sanzang said, “If it has indeed eaten him, how can I go forward? Alas! With these thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers, how are we to walk?” As he spoke, his tears fell like rain. Seeing him begin to weep, the Pilgrim could no longer restrain his violent temper. He gave a great shout and said, “Master, do not act like such a spineless weakling. Sit there, sit there. Wait for your Old Sun to find that creature, and make him return my horse—that will be all.” Sanzang then pulled him back and said, “Disciple, where will you go to find him? I fear he will suddenly spring out from the darkness, and would he not then harm me as well? If both man and horse were lost, what would we do?” Hearing these words, the Pilgrim grew even more furious and cried out like thunder, “You are utterly useless, utterly useless! You want a horse to ride, yet you will not let me go. Shall I watch the luggage like this and sit here until I grow old?”
He growled and shouted, and was just finding it difficult to quell his anger, when they heard someone speaking in the air: “Great Sage Sun, do not be angry. Tang Imperial Cousin, do not weep. We are a company of deities sent by Guanyin Bodhisattva, specially come to secretly protect the one who seeks the scriptures.” Hearing this, the Elder hurriedly performed obeisance. The Pilgrim said, “Which of you are you? Report your names, so that I may call the roll.” The host of deities said, “We are the Six Ding and Six Jia, the Five Directions’ Jiedi, the Four Duty Officers of Merit, and the eighteen Protecting Teaching Qie-lan. Each in turn serves on duty, awaiting orders.” The Pilgrim said, “Who begins today?” The host of Jiedi said, “Ding and Jia, the Officers of Merit, and the Qie-lan serve in rotation. We Five Directions’ Jiedi—only Golden-Headed Jiedi remains constantly at his side by day and night.” The Pilgrim said, “Since that is so, those who are not on duty may withdraw. Leave behind the Six Ding Divine Generals, the Officer of Merit on duty today, and the host of Jiedi to guard my master. Wait for your Old Sun to find that evil dragon in the ravine and make him return my horse.” The host of deities obeyed the command. Sanzang at last set his mind at ease, sat upon the rocky cliff, and instructed the Pilgrim to be careful. The Pilgrim said, “Just keep your mind at rest.” What a fine Monkey King! He tightened his cotton cloth zhizhu robe, hitched up his tiger-skin skirt, gripped the Golden-Cudgel Iron Staff, gathered his spirit, and went straight to the ravine. Half in cloud and half in mist, he called loudly over the water, “You muddy loach, return my horse! Return my horse!”
It is told that after the dragon had eaten Sanzang’s white horse, it lay concealed in the middle of the bottom of the ravine, hiding its spirit and nurturing its nature. It heard someone cursing and demanding the horse. Unable to restrain the fire rising in its heart, it hurriedly leaped up, surging through the waves and churning the waters, and sprang out, saying, “Who dares to bluster here and insult me?” Seeing him, the Pilgrim gave a great shout: “Do not flee! Return my horse!” Wielding his staff, he struck straight at the dragon’s head. The dragon bared its fangs and brandished its claws to seize him. The two of them fought this battle beside the ravine, and truly they were fierce heroes. It was seen that:
The dragon extended its sharp claws; the monkey raised the golden cudgel.
One’s whiskers hung like threads of white jade; the other’s eyes flashed like red-gold lamps.
Beneath the dragon’s whiskers, a bright pearl sprayed clouds of colored mist;
In the monkey’s hands, the iron staff danced like a wild wind.
One was the karmic son who had bewildered his father and mother;
The other was the demon who had deceived the heavenly generals.
Both had met hardship and suffered trials;
Now, seeking success, each displayed his abilities.
Coming and going, they fought for a long while. After circling for a considerable time, the dragon’s strength weakened and its sinews grew numb; unable to withstand its opponent, it turned around and sprang once more into the water, diving deep to the bottom of the ravine and never raising its head again. The Monkey King cursed it without end, but it merely pretended to be deaf.
The Pilgrim had no way to deal with it and could only return to see Sanzang. He said, “Master, this monster was cursed out by your Old Sun. It fought me for a long time, then fled out of fear of battle. It is hiding in the water and will not come out again.” Sanzang said, “How do we know for certain that it was he who ate my horse?” The Pilgrim said, “Listen to what you are saying. If he had not eaten it, would he have come out to answer my challenge and oppose your Old Sun?” Sanzang said, “When you fought the tiger the other day, you said that you possessed the means to subdue dragons and tame tigers. How is it that today you cannot subdue him?” That monkey could not bear it when people pressed him in haste. Seeing that Sanzang had retorted with this sentence, he displayed his divine might and said, “Do not speak, do not speak. Wait until I meet him again and determine who is superior.”
The Monkey King stretched out his stride and leaped to the edge of the ravine. He brought forth the supernatural power that overturns rivers and churns seas, stirring the water of Eagle Sorrow Ravine, which had been clear to its depths, until it became like the surging waves of the Nine-Bend Yellow River in flood. The evil dragon, seated and lying uneasily in the deep ravine, thought to itself, “This is indeed blessing never arriving twice, while calamity never comes alone. I have only just escaped the death sentence imposed by the laws of Heaven, and less than a year has passed while I have been living out my days according to fate here—now I have collided with such a reckless demon, and he has come to harm me.” The more it thought, the angrier it became. Unable to endure the humiliation, it gnashed its teeth, sprang out, and cursed, “From where have you come, reckless demon, to bully me like this?” The Pilgrim said, “Do not concern yourself with where I come from. You need only return the horse, and I will spare your life.” The dragon said, “Your horse is in my belly. How could I spit it out? I will not return it—what will you do?” The Pilgrim said, “If you do not return the horse, then face my staff. I will beat you to death and have you repay the life of my horse, and that will be the end of it.” The two of them again fought bitterly beneath the mountain cliff. After only a few bouts, the young dragon truly found it difficult to withstand him. With a flick of its body, it transformed into a little water snake and burrowed into a clump of grass.
The Monkey King took up his cudgel and hurried forward, parting the grass to search for the snake, but where could he find the slightest trace? He grew so anxious that the Three Corpses spirits in him shouted and smoke arose from his seven apertures. He recited the spell with the word “Om,” and immediately summoned the local Tudi and the mountain god of that place, who came together and knelt, saying, “The mountain god and Tudi have come to pay their respects.” The Pilgrim said, “Stretch out your ankles; each of you shall receive five cudgel blows as a greeting, to cheer Old Sun up a little.” The two deities kowtowed and pleaded sorrowfully, “We beg the Great Sage to show mercy and allow us to explain.” The Pilgrim said, “What have you to say?” The two deities said, “The Great Sage has long been confined, and we did not know when you would come out, so we failed to receive you. We beg you to forgive our offense.” The Pilgrim said, “Since that is so, I will not beat you for now. Let me ask you: What strange dragon came from which direction into Yingchou Ravine? How did he seize and eat my master’s white horse?” The two deities said, “The Great Sage has never before had a master. You were originally a Primordial Supreme True One who submitted neither to Heaven nor to Earth; how could you have any master’s horse?” The Pilgrim said, “You do not know. It was only because of that business of deceiving Heaven that I suffered these five hundred years of hardship. Now, thanks to Guanyin Bodhisattva’s exhortation to goodness, a true monk from beneath the Tang emperor’s throne rescued me and instructed me to become his disciple, go west to the Western Heaven, worship the Buddha, and seek the scriptures. Passing through this place, we lost my master’s white horse.” The two deities said, “So that is how it is. This ravine has never harbored evil; it is merely deep, steep, broad, and spacious, with water so clear that one can see to the bottom. Crows and magpies dare not fly across it. Because the water is clear enough to reflect their own shapes, they mistake them for birds of their own kind and often hurl themselves into the water; hence it was named ‘Yingchou Steep Ravine.’ Some years ago, however, Guanyin Bodhisattva, while searching for the scripture-seeker, rescued a jade dragon and sent him here, instructing him to await that scripture-seeker and forbidding him to do evil. When hungry, he merely comes ashore to pounce upon some crows and magpies to eat, or catches a few roes and deer for food. We do not know how he could have been so ignorant as to offend the Great Sage today.” The Pilgrim said, “The first time, he exchanged blows with Old Sun and circled about for several bouts. The second time, Old Sun shouted insults at him, but he would not come out again. So I used a method for Stirring the Rivers and Agitating the Seas, churning his ravine water into confusion. He then sprang up and still wanted to contend. He did not know that Old Sun’s cudgel was heavy; unable to ward it off, he transformed into a water snake and burrowed into the grass. I chased after him to search for him, but there was no trace.” The Tudi said, “The Great Sage does not know that the countless openings in this ravine are connected, which is why its waves and currents extend so far and deep. Presumably there is also an opening here, and he burrowed down through it. The Great Sage need not grow angry and search here; to capture this creature, it is only necessary to invite Guanshiyin, and he will naturally be subdued.”
When the Pilgrim heard this, he summoned the mountain god and the Tudi, and together they went to see Sanzang and told him all that had happened before. Sanzang said, “If we go to invite the Bodhisattva, when will you be able to return? How can this poor monk endure hunger and cold?” Before he had finished speaking, they heard Golden-Headed Jiedi calling out from the dark sky, “Great Sage, you need not go yourself. I, this minor deity, will go and invite the Bodhisattva here.” The Pilgrim was overjoyed and said, “You shall have my thanks, you shall have my thanks. Go quickly, go quickly.” Jiedi immediately drove his cloud straight up to the Southern Sea. The Pilgrim instructed the mountain god and the Tudi to guard his master, and the Daily-Duty Gongcao to seek vegetarian provisions. He himself went once more to patrol the edge of the ravine, which need not be mentioned further.
Now, Golden-Headed Jiedi rode a cloud and soon reached the Southern Sea. He pressed down the auspicious radiance and went straight to the Purple-Bamboo Grove on Mount Luojia, entrusting the Golden-Armored Devas and Mucha Hui’an to convey his request. He was granted an audience with the Bodhisattva. The Bodhisattva said, “Why have you come?” Jiedi said, “Tang Monk lost his horse in the Yingchou Steep Ravine on Snake-Coiling Mountain, and the Great Sage Sun is desperately caught between advance and retreat. When he questioned the local Tudi, the deity said that a wicked dragon whom the Bodhisattva had sent into the ravine had swallowed it. The Great Sage has sent this minor deity to report the matter and request that the Bodhisattva subdue the wicked dragon and return the horse to him.” Hearing this, the Bodhisattva said, “That creature is the son of Ao Run of the Western Sea. Because he set fire to the luminous pearl in the palace hall, his father accused him of filial disobedience, and he committed a capital offense in the Celestial Court. I personally saw the Jade Emperor and petitioned for him to be brought down, instructing him to serve as a mount for Tang Monk. How could he instead have eaten Tang Monk’s horse? In that case, wait for me to go.” The Bodhisattva descended from the lotus platform, left the immortal cave directly, and rode with Jiedi upon auspicious radiance. They passed over the Southern Sea and came. A poem gives proof. The poem says:
The Buddha preached the Mituo Three-Treasury Scripture;
The Bodhisattva proclaimed goodness, filling the Great Wall.
The wondrous words of Mahā connect Heaven and Earth;
The true words of Prajñā save the spirits of ghosts.
Thus the Golden Cicada could once more cast off his shell;
Therefore Xuanzang was made to cultivate again.
Only because the road was blocked by Yingchou Ravine,
The dragon prince returned to truth and took the form of a horse.
Before long, the Bodhisattva and Jiedi reached Snake-Coiling Mountain. There, in midair, they held their auspicious cloud in place and looked down. They saw Sun Wukong cursing at the edge of the ravine. The Bodhisattva instructed Jiedi to call him. Jiedi lowered the head of his cloud and, without going through Sanzang, went straight to the edge of the ravine and said to the Pilgrim, “The Bodhisattva has arrived.” When the Pilgrim heard this, he swiftly leaped upon his cloud and sprang into the air, shouting loudly at her, “You, teacher of the Seven Buddhas, compassionate ruler of the teachings—how could you devise a method to harm me?” The Bodhisattva said, “You bold Maliu, you rustic Chikao! I repeatedly exerted myself with all my heart to bring a scripture-seeker here, carefully instructing him to save your life. Why did you not come and thank me for the grace of preserving your life, but instead come here to quarrel with me?” The Pilgrim said, “You have treated me well indeed! Since you released me, you should have let me roam freely and amuse myself. The other day, when you met me upon the sea, you wounded me with several remarks and told me to serve Tang Monk with all my heart and strength—that would have been enough. Why did you send him a flower cap to trick me into putting it on my head and suffering? You caused this tightening fillet to grow upon Old Sun’s head, and then taught him some spell called the ‘Tightening-Fillet Spell.’ That old monk recited it again and again, making my head ache more and more. Was this not your doing to harm me?” The Bodhisattva laughed and said, “You monkey, you would not obey the commands of the teachings or accept the true fruition. If I had not restrained you in this way, you would again deceive Heaven and defy the celestial order. How would you know right from wrong? If you caused trouble as you did before, who would take charge of you? You had to acquire this demon’s head before you would consent to enter the path to my Yogācāra gate.” The Pilgrim said, “Let this matter be counted as my demon’s head. But why did you also send that guilty wicked dragon here to become a demon and have him eat my master’s horse? This too is releasing an evildoer to do evil; it is far from good.” The Bodhisattva said, “That dragon was the one for whom I personally petitioned the Jade Emperor to be sent here, specifically to serve as a mount for the scripture-seeker. Consider: how could an ordinary horse from the Eastern Land cross these ten thousand rivers and ten thousand mountains? How could it reach the Buddha-land of Spirit Mountain? It is necessary to have this dragon-horse before the journey can be made.” The Pilgrim said, “He is so afraid of Old Sun that he hides and will not come out. What are we to do?” The Bodhisattva called to Jiedi, “Go to the edge of the ravine and call out once: ‘Ao Run, Dragon King, Third Prince Yulong, come out; the Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea is here.’ He will then come out.”
That Jiedi went to the side of the ravine and called twice. The little dragon churned the waves and leaped through the billows, sprang out of the water, and transformed into human form. Treading upon the clouds, he came into the air and bowed to the Bodhisattva, saying: “Formerly I received the Bodhisattva’s grace in releasing me and preserving my life. I have waited here for a long time, yet have heard no news of the person fetching the scriptures.” The Bodhisattva pointed at the Traveler and said: “Is this not the eldest disciple of the person fetching the scriptures?” When the little dragon saw him, he said: “Bodhisattva, this is my adversary. Yesterday I was hungry and indeed ate his horse. Relying on the little strength he possessed, he fought me until my strength failed and I retreated; then he cursed me until I shut the door and dared not come out. He never once mentioned a single word about ‘fetching the scriptures.’” The Traveler said: “You never asked my name. How could I have told you?” The little dragon said: “I never asked where you came from, you reckless demon. You shouted: ‘What does it matter where or where not? Just give me back my horse.’ When did you ever utter even half the word ‘Tang’?” The Bodhisattva said: “That monkey relies solely on his own strength; how would he be willing to praise another? This time, when you go forward, there will be one who submits. If he asks, first mention the words ‘fetching the scriptures’; then there will be no need to trouble yourself, for he will naturally bow down.”
The Traveler gladly accepted this instruction. The Bodhisattva stepped forward, plucked the luminous pearl from beneath the little dragon’s neck, dipped a willow branch into sweet dew, and flicked it over his body once. She blew a breath of immortal air and cried: “Transform!” The dragon immediately transformed into his original horse, with mane and coat. Then she gave him these instructions: “You must diligently repay your karmic hindrances. Once your merit is complete, you will transcend the condition of an ordinary dragon, and I will restore to you the true fruition of a golden body.” The little dragon, with a crossbone in his mouth, accepted this wholeheartedly. The Bodhisattva instructed Wukong to lead him to meet Sanzang. “I am returning to the sea.” The Traveler seized the Bodhisattva and would not let go, saying: “I am not going. I am not going. The road to the West is so rugged; when will I ever arrive while protecting this ordinary monk? With so many ordeals and hardships, even this old Sun’s life will be difficult to preserve. How could I attain any merit or fruition? I am not going. I am not going.” The Bodhisattva said: “In former years, before you had attained human form, you were still willing to devote yourself to cultivation and awakening. Now that you have escaped the heavenly calamity, how can you instead grow indolent? In my school, truth is attained through extinction and tranquility; you must have faith to attain true fruition. If you should reach a place that wounds your body and brings bitter trials, I permit you to call to Heaven, and Heaven will answer; call to Earth, and Earth will be efficacious. If you should truly reach a moment from which escape is impossible, I myself will come to save you. Come here, and I will bestow upon you another ability.” The Bodhisattva plucked three willow leaves and placed them behind the Traveler’s head, crying: “Transform!” They immediately transformed into three life-saving hairs. She instructed him: “When you reach a time when nothing can help you and there is no one to rely upon, you may respond according to circumstance and change as needed, saving yourself from urgent calamity and distress.” Having heard these many kind words, the Traveler finally thanked the greatly compassionate Bodhisattva. Fragrant winds circled her, colored mists drifted, and she went directly back to Mount Potalaka.
Only then did the Traveler lower the cloud and seize the mane atop the dragon-horse’s head, bringing it to Sanzang and saying: “Master, the horse has been found.” At first sight Sanzang was overjoyed and said: “Disciple, why has this horse become even fatter and more robust than before? Where did you find it?” The Traveler said: “Master, you must still be dreaming. Just now Golden-Headed Jiedi invited the Bodhisattva here, and she transformed the dragon in the ravine into our white horse. Its mane and coat are identical; it merely lacks a saddle and bridle. I seized it and brought it here.” Sanzang was greatly startled and said: “Where is the Bodhisattva? Let me go and offer my thanks.” The Traveler said: “The Bodhisattva has already reached the Southern Sea by now and has no patience to wait.” Sanzang therefore gathered earth, burned incense, and bowed toward the south. After bowing, he rose and immediately joined the Traveler in making ready to proceed. The Traveler drove away the mountain god and the earth god, gave instructions to the Jiedi and the Gongcao, and then invited his master to mount. Sanzang said: “How can one ride a horse without a saddle or bridle? Let us first wait until we find a boat to cross the ravine, and then make other arrangements.” The Traveler said: “Master, you truly do not understand the circumstances! In this wilderness among the mountains, where would a boat come from? This horse has lived here for a long time and must know the currents. Just ride him and let him serve as a boat to cross.”
Sanzang had no choice but to follow his words and mount the bare horse. The Traveler slung the traveling bundle over his shoulder. When they reached the edge of the ravine, they saw upstream an old fisherman propelling a raft made of deadwood downstream. Seeing him, the Traveler beckoned with his hand and called: “Old fisherman, come here, come here. I am going from the Eastern Land to fetch the scriptures. My master has reached this place and cannot cross. Come and ferry him across.” Hearing this, the fisherman hurriedly poled the raft over. The Traveler asked his master to dismount and supported him on both sides. Sanzang boarded the raft; they pulled the horse up and placed the luggage aboard. The old fisherman poled the raft away, swift as wind and arrow, and before they knew it they had crossed Eagle Sorrow Ravine and reached the western bank. Sanzang told the Traveler to untie the bundle, take out several strings of Tang currency, and give them to the old fisherman. The old fisherman pushed the raft away with one stroke of the pole and said: “No money, no money.” He drifted faintly and indistinctly toward midstream. Sanzang felt most embarrassed and kept putting his palms together in thanks. The Traveler said: “Master, do not trouble yourself. Do you not recognize him? He is the water god of this ravine. He did not come to receive this old Sun; otherwise this old Sun would still have to beat him. Since he has escaped a beating today, that is already enough for him. How could he dare accept money?” His master seemed to believe this and yet not believe it, but had no choice except to mount the bare horse again and follow the Traveler directly onto the main road, heading west. Truly:
Vast True Suchness: ascend the Other Shore;
With sincere heart, complete one’s nature and ascend Vulture Peak.
Proceeding together with his master, they did not notice the red sun sinking in the west and the daylight gradually fading. They saw only:
Faint clouds, confused and tangled; the mountain moon, dim and hazy.
Frost-colored cold arose throughout the sky; wind from all four sides pierced the body.
When the lone bird departed, the blue islet stretched wide; where the sunset glow shone bright, distant mountains sank low.
A sparse forest of a thousand trees roared; upon the empty ridge, a solitary ape cried.
Along the long road no traveler’s trace appeared; a returning boat of ten thousand miles entered the night.
From atop the horse Sanzang gazed into the distance and suddenly saw a manor beside the road. Sanzang said: “Wukong, there is a household ahead. We can borrow lodging there and continue tomorrow morning.” The Traveler raised his head, looked, and said: “Master, it is not a household manor.” Sanzang said: “How is it not?” The Traveler said: “A household manor would have the ridges of flying fish and crouching beasts; this is certainly a temple or convent.”
As master and disciples spoke, they had already reached the gate. Sanzang dismounted and saw three large characters on the gate: “Village Shrine.” He then entered through the gate. Inside was an old man with a string of prayer beads around his neck. He put his palms together and came to welcome them, calling: “Master, please be seated.” Sanzang hurriedly returned the courtesy and went up into the hall to pay his respects before the sacred image. The old man immediately called for a young attendant to offer tea. After the tea, Sanzang asked the old man: “Why is this temple called a ‘Village Shrine’?” The old man said: “This place of ours lies within the borders of the Western Fan Kingdom of Habi. Behind this temple is a village whose households joined together in devout faith and established this temple. ‘Village’ means the land of a township; ‘shrine’ means the local earth god of a community. Whenever spring plowing, summer cultivation, autumn harvest, or winter storage takes place, they each prepare the three sacrificial animals, flowers, and fruits, and come here to sacrifice to the shrine, so as to preserve peace and auspiciousness throughout the four seasons, abundant harvests of the five grains, and flourishing of the six domestic animals.” Hearing this, Sanzang nodded and praised him: “Indeed, ‘Three miles from home, and one finds the customs of another village.’ Where I come from, households do not possess such goodness.” The old man then asked: “Master, where is your immortal homeland?” Sanzang said: “This poor monk is from the Great Tang kingdom of the Eastern Land. By imperial command, I am going to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek scriptures. Passing by your venerable place, with the sky now growing dark, I have come especially to your sacred shrine to request lodging for one night. When daylight comes, I shall continue on my way.” The old man was exceedingly pleased, repeatedly saying, “Forgive me for not welcoming you sooner,” and again called for the young attendant to prepare food. After Sanzang had eaten, he offered his thanks.
The Pilgrim’s sharp eyes noticed a rope for hanging clothes beneath the eaves of the room. He went over, pulled it apart with one tug, and tied the horse’s legs to it. The old man laughed and said, “Where did you steal this horse?”
The Pilgrim angrily said, “You old fellow, mind your words. We are holy monks going to worship the Buddha—would we also steal horses?”
The old man laughed and said, “If it was not stolen, how is it that it has no saddle, bridle, or reins, and you have instead pulled down my clothesline?”
Sanzang apologized and said, “This fellow is merely unruly and has a fiery temper.──If you wanted to tether the horse, you should have properly asked the old man for a rope. How could you simply pull down his clothesline?──Old sir, do not take offense, do not take offense. This horse of mine, to speak frankly, was not stolen. Yesterday, coming eastward, we reached the Yingchou Ravine. I originally had a white horse to ride, complete with saddle and bridle. Unexpectedly, there was a wicked dragon in that ravine who had become a demon. He swallowed my horse, saddle, and bridle all at once. Fortunately, my disciple possessed some ability, and we were also aided by Guanyin Bodhisattva, who came to the edge of the ravine and captured that dragon. She instructed him to transform into the white horse I had originally ridden. Every hair upon him was the same, and he carried me toward the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha. Now, having crossed the ravine, before even a day has passed, we have arrived at your sacred shrine, old sir, and have not yet had the opportunity to obtain a saddle and bridle.”
The old man said, “Master, do not take offense. This old man was only joking; who knew that your eminent disciple would take me seriously? When I was young, I had a few village coins and was able to ride a fine horse. But after many years of hardship, suffering bereavement and fire, I came to nothing in the end and therefore became the keeper of this shrine, attending to its incense. Fortunately, I have been able to live from day to day through the alms of the benefactor families in the village behind us. I still happen to have a saddle and bridle there. They are things I cherished in former days; even in such poverty, I never had the heart to sell them. Just now, hearing your words, I learned that even the Bodhisattva protected a divine dragon and taught him to transform into a horse to carry you. Yet I, this old man, cannot fail to offer you a little assistance. Tomorrow I will fetch that saddle and bridle and willingly present them to you, Master, so that you may put them upon the horse’s back and continue onward. I beg you to accept them as a jest.”
Hearing this, Sanzang thanked him without end. Soon afterward, he saw a boy bring out the evening meal. When the meal was finished, they lit a lamp, arranged their bedding, and each retired to sleep.
Early the next morning, the Pilgrim rose and said, “Master, that old shrine keeper promised us a saddle and bridle last night. Ask him for them; do not let him off.”
Before he had finished speaking, they saw that the old man had indeed brought out a saddle, bridle, saddle pad, rein harness, and the like. Everything needed for a horse was fully provided. He placed them beneath the corridor and said, “Master, I offer you the saddle and bridle.”
When Sanzang saw them, he joyfully accepted them. He instructed the Pilgrim to take them and place them upon the horse’s back to see whether they fit.
The Pilgrim stepped forward and picked them up one by one to examine them. They were indeed excellent articles. A poem attests to this:
The carved saddle gleamed, its silver stars shining bright;
The jeweled stirrups flashed, their golden threads alight.
Layer upon layer, the saddle pads of velvet were spread;
Three strands of purple silk formed the reins that led.
The leather bridle was pierced, its clustered flowers ablaze;
The cloud-shaped cheek pieces, painted gold, showed beasts in the blaze.
The rings and bit rang out, forged of tempered iron;
Two tassels dipped like water, with woolen fringes hanging down.
The Pilgrim secretly rejoiced. He placed the saddle and bridle upon the horse, and they fit as though they had been made to measure. Sanzang bowed and thanked the old man. The old man hurriedly helped him to his feet and said, “I am overwhelmed, I am overwhelmed. Why trouble yourself to offer thanks?”
The old man did not keep them any longer, but invited Sanzang to mount. The elder came out through the gate, grasped the saddle, and mounted the horse. The Pilgrim shouldered the luggage. The old man then took a little whip from his sleeve. Its handle was fragrant rattan bound with leather studs, and its lash was woven from tiger sinews. Standing beside the road, he clasped his hands and offered it, saying, “Holy Monk, I also have a hand-strap. I shall send it along with you as well.”
Upon the horse, Sanzang received it and said, “Many thanks for your alms, many thanks for your alms.”
Just as he was making his formal farewell, the old man had already vanished. When they turned back to look at the local shrine, there was only a bare expanse of ground. They heard someone speaking in midair: “Holy Monk, I have been too remiss toward you. I am the Mountain God and Earth Deity of Luojia Mountain, sent by the Bodhisattva to deliver the saddle and bridle to you all. You must strive on in your journey westward, and do not be negligent for even a moment.”
Sanzang was so startled that he rolled down from the saddle and dismounted. Facing the empty sky, he bowed and worshiped, saying, “This disciple, possessed only of mortal eyes and an ordinary body, did not recognize the honored deity’s august countenance. I beg you to forgive my offense. Please convey my profound gratitude to the Bodhisattva for her great grace and protection.”
Look at him: he kept kowtowing toward the sky, without counting the number of times. By the roadside, Sun the Great Sage laughed until he nearly collapsed, while the Handsome Monkey King was delighted beyond measure. He stepped forward and tugged at Tang Sanzang, saying, “Master, get up. He has already gone far away. He cannot hear your prayers or see you kowtowing, so why do you keep bowing?”
The elder said, “Disciple, you do not understand. After all my kowtowing, you could at least bow to him once. Instead, you merely stand at the side laughing at him. What is the meaning of this?”
The Pilgrim said, “How could you know? One who hides his head and conceals his tail as he does ought properly to be beaten. Only out of consideration for the Bodhisattva’s face did I spare him; being beaten as much as he was would already have been enough. Would he still dare accept a bow from your old Sun? Since I was a child, your old Sun has been a hero. I do not know how to bow to people. Even when I see the Jade Emperor or the Supreme Venerable Lord, I merely give a formal greeting, and that is all.”
Sanzang said, “You worthless fellow, do not speak such empty nonsense. Get up quickly, and do not delay our journey.”
Only then did the master rise and gather their things, and they proceeded westward.
From there, they traveled for two months along a peaceful road. Those they encountered were merely Luoluo, Huihui, wolves, insects, tigers, and leopards. Time passed swiftly, and it was once again early spring. The mountain forests displayed hues of embroidered green; the grasses and trees were sending forth green shoots. The plum blossoms had all fallen, and the willow eyes had just begun to open.
The master and disciples traveled while enjoying the spring scenery, and once again saw the sun sinking in the west. Sanzang drew in the reins and gazed into the distance. In a hollow of the mountains, he saw the faint outlines of towers and terraces, with palace halls sinking into the haze.
Sanzang said, “Wukong, look—what place is that?”
The Pilgrim raised his head and looked. “They are not palace buildings; they must be a monastery. Let us hurry a little. We can seek lodging there.”
Sanzang happily followed his advice, loosened the reins of the Dragon Horse, and went straight toward the place.
What place they reached by going there, after all? Let us listen to the explanation in the next chapter.