OriginChapter 73
So it was that the Great Sage Sun, supporting the Tang Monk, together with Bajie and Sha Monk, hurried along the main road, heading straight west. Before long, they suddenly saw a place with multi-storied pavilions and lofty palaces. The Tang Monk reined in his horse and said, "Disciples, what sort of place do you suppose that is?" Pilgrim raised his head and looked, and suddenly saw:
Hills encircling pavilions, streams winding about terraces.
Before the gate, mixed trees stood thick and dense; outside the house, wild flowers bloomed brightly.
White egrets roosted among the willows, like flawless jade in mist;
Golden orioles chirped within the peach trees, like colored gold amid fire.
Pairs of wild deer, oblivious, idly trod the green sedge mat;
Couples of mountain fowl, with chattering calls, sang high in the treetops.
Truly like the grotto of Liu and Ruan on Mount Tiantai,
Not inferior to the immortal's fairyland home.
Pilgrim reported, "Master, that place is neither the mansion of a prince nor the house of a wealthy family—it looks rather like a hermitage or monastery. We shall only know for certain once we get there." Hearing this, Sanzang urged his horse forward with his whip. The master and disciples arrived before the gate and looked—on the gate was inlaid a stone plaque bearing the three characters "Yellow Flower Monastery." Sanzang dismounted. Bajie said, "Yellow Flower Monastery is a Daoist establishment. It would be good for us to go in and meet them—though their robes and caps differ from ours, their cultivation is the same." Sha Monk said, "Well said. First, we can go in and see the scenery; second, we can also rest the pack animals. If it is convenient, we can arrange some vegetarian fare for Master."
The elder, heeding their words, the four entered together. But on the second gate there was a pair of Spring Festival couplets: "Yellow sprouts and white snow—the abode of immortals; Jade grass and wondrous flowers—the home of Daoist adepts." Pilgrim laughed, "This is a Daoist who burns herbs and refines elixirs, works the furnace fire, and tends his cauldrons." Sanzang gave him a pinch and said, "Careful, careful. We are not acquainted with him, nor are we kin—we shall only meet him briefly for a while, why worry about it?" Before he finished speaking, they entered the second gate and saw that the main hall was tightly shut. In the eastern corridor sat a Daoist, there compounding pills. See how he was attired:
He wore a brilliant, gleaming gilt crown,
A robe of deep, glossy raven-black,
Treads of green, layered cloud-tip shoes,
And a sash of waving yellow, the cord of Lü.
His face was like iron gourd, his eyes like bright stars.
His nose bridge was tall and high, like a Huihui's;
His lips gaped and curled, like a Dada's.
Within his Daoist heart lay hidden rolling thunder—
A true adept who tames tigers and subdues dragons.
When Sanzang saw him, he called out loudly, "Venerable Immortal, this poor monk offers his greetings." The Daoist suddenly raised his head, and at the sight his heart was startled. He dropped the medicine in his hand, adjusted his hairpin, straightened his robes, and descended the steps to welcome him, saying, "Venerable Master, I failed to receive you properly. Please come inside and be seated." Delighted, the elder ascended the hall. Pushing open the door, he saw statues of the Three Pure Ones, and on the offering table were a censer and incense. He at once took incense, placed it in the censer, paid homage three times, and only then exchanged courtesies with the Daoist. They then proceeded to the guest seats, where he sat down with his disciples. The Daoist hastily summoned his immortal lads to serve tea. Two little lads at once entered the inner quarters, looking for tea trays, washing tea cups, wiping tea spoons, and preparing tea fruits—bustling about in great haste, which soon roused those several wronged spirits.
Now it happened that the seven female demons of the Cave of Silken Threads had studied the same arts with this Daoist. Ever since they had put on their old clothes and called out their sons, they had come straight to this place. They were at that moment in the rear cutting and sewing clothes when they suddenly saw the lads preparing tea and asked, "Lads, what guests have come that you are so busy?" The immortal lads said, "Just now four monks arrived, and our master bade us serve tea." The females asked, "Is there a white, plump monk among them?" "There is." They asked again, "Is there one with a long snout and big ears?" "There is." The females said, "Hurry and serve the tea, then give your master a wink and have him come in—we have urgent words to say." Sure enough, the immortal lads brought out five cups of tea. The Daoist gathered his robes, took a cup with both hands and presented it to Sanzang, then to Bajie, Sha Monk, and Pilgrim. When the tea was finished, he collected the cups. The little lad gave a wink, and the Daoist rose slightly and said, "Sirs, please be seated." He instructed, "Lad, put away the tea tray and wait upon them. I shall be back shortly." At this point the elder and his disciples, along with one little lad, went out of the hall to look around—but no more of that.
Now the Daoist walked into the abbot's quarters, where he saw the seven women all kneeling in a row, calling out, "Elder Brother, Elder Brother, hear your little sisters speak." The Daoist reached out his hand and helped them up, saying, "When you came this morning, you wanted to say something to me, but as it happened I was compounding pills today, and this medicine must not see the light of women—so I did not answer you. Now there are guests outside as well. If you have something to say, say it slowly." The demons said, "We beg to tell Elder Brother: this matter is specifically because of the guests' arrival that we dare speak of it; if the guests leave, even if we speak, it will be useless." The Daoist laughed, "Look at you, worthy sisters, how you speak—why must it be said only on account of the guests' arrival? Are you not mad? Put aside that I am one who cultivates the Dao in pure stillness—even in an ordinary household, with wife, children, and domestic affairs, one waits for the guests to leave before dealing with them. How can you be so unseemly as to put on a show for me? Let me go out." The demons again pulled him back, saying, "Elder Brother, calm your anger. Let me ask you—where do those guests in front come from?" The Daoist turned a sulky face and did not answer. The demons said, "Just now the little lad came in to fetch tea, and I heard him say they were four monks." The Daoist said angrily, "What if they are monks?" The demons said, "Among the four monks, there is one with a white, plump face, and one with a long snout and big ears. Did Elder Brother ask where they came from?" The Daoist said, "There are indeed those two among them—how do you know? Did you see them somewhere?"
The women said, "Elder Brother, you do not know the full story. Those monks were dispatched from the Tang court to fetch scriptures from the Western Heaven. This morning they came to our cave to beg alms—indeed, your sisters, having long heard of the Tang Monk's name, took him captive." The Daoist said, "What did you take him for?" The women said, "We have long heard it said that the Tang Monk is the true body of one who cultivated for ten lifetimes—if one eats a piece of his flesh, one will prolong life and gain immortality. For that reason we took him. Later, that long-snouted, big-eared monk blocked us in the Cleansing Spring, first snatching our clothes, then displaying his prowess, forcing us to bathe with him, and we could not stop him. He jumped into the water, turned into a catfish, and darted about between our legs, attempting lewd deception—truly most shameless and vile. He then leaped out of the water and resumed his true form. Seeing that we would not yield, he wielded a nine-pronged rake and tried to kill us. Had it not been for our wits, we would have nearly suffered his deadly hand. Thus we fled in terror. We also set your foolish nephew to fight him, and we do not know whether he is alive or dead. We have come especially to take refuge with you, Elder Brother, hoping that you will remember the old friendship of our shared studies and today act as one who avenges our wrong." When the Daoist heard these words, he became enraged, and his expression changed as he said, "So these monks are truly so insolent, so shameless and vile. All of you rest easy—I will deal with them." The women thanked him, saying, "If Elder Brother makes a move, we will all come to help you beat him." The Daoist said, "No need to beat, no need to beat. As the saying goes, 'To strike first is to concede three points.' All of you follow me."
The women followed at his side. He went into the room, took a ladder, went around behind the bed, climbed up to the roof beam, and took down a small leather case. That case was about eight inches high, one foot long, and four inches wide, and it was secured with a small brass lock. He then took from his sleeve a square of goose-yellow damask kerchief, and from the tassel of the kerchief hung a small key. He opened the lock and took out a packet of medicine. This medicine was made of:
Bird droppings from a hundred mountains,
swept and gathered to a thousand catties.
Boiled in a copper cauldron,
with even heat and careful fire.
From a thousand catties, one ladle was boiled down;
from that one ladle, three-tenths were refined.
One part still must be stir-fried thrice, then baked again and smoked anew.
When this poison is made, it is as precious as gems and treasures.
If one tastes its flavor, upon entering the mouth one sees King Yama.
The Daoist said to the seven women: "Sisters, my precious treasure—if given to a mortal, only one li is needed; once it enters the belly, he dies. If given to an immortal, only three li will kill him. These monks likely have some measure of Daoist cultivation, so three li are required. Quickly fetch the steelyard." One of the women hurriedly brought a steelyard and said: "Weigh out one fen and two li, divide it into four portions." Then they took twelve red dates, broke each date open a little, pressed one li into each, and placed them into four tea bowls. They also put two black dates into one tea bowl, set them on a tray, and the woman said to the group: "Wait till I go ask him. If he is not from Tang, then let it be; but if he is from Tang, then have them change the tea, and you shall have this tea brought out by the boy. Once they drink it, every one will perish, and then we shall have avenged this grudge and relieved our vexation." The seven women were deeply grateful.
The Daoist changed his clothes, put on an air of false courtesy and humility, and went out. He invited Tang Sanzang and the others to again take seats as guests, and said: "Venerable Master, do not take offense. I just went to the back to instruct my young disciples to pick some greens and radishes and prepare a vegetarian meal for your offering, hence my absence." Sanzang said: "This poor monk comes with bare hands to pay respects—how dare I trouble you to offer a meal?" The Daoist smiled and said: "Both you and I are renunciants. Upon seeing a monastery gate, one has a three-sheng grain allowance—how can you speak of bare hands? May I ask, Venerable Master, on which precious mountain do you dwell, and what brings you here?" Sanzang said: "This poor monk is sent by the Great Tang in the East, dispatched to the Western Heaven's Great Thunderclap Monastery to fetch scriptures. Just now we passed by your immortal abode and entered with sincere reverence." Hearing this, the Daoist's face beamed with spring radiance and said: "Venerable Master, you are a loyal and virtuous Buddha; this humble Daoist did not know, and failed to welcome you from afar. Forgive me, forgive me." He called: "Boy, quickly go and change the tea, and at once prepare the vegetarian meal." The young boy went inside, and the women summoned him and said: "Here is ready-made fine tea—take it out." The boy indeed brought out five bowls of tea. The Daoist hurriedly took with both hands a bowl with red dates and offered it to Tang Sanzang. Seeing Zhu Bajie's large frame, he took him for the eldest disciple; Sha Wujing as the second; and seeing Sun Wukong's small stature, he took him as the third. So the fourth bowl was offered to Wukong.
Wukong, sharp-eyed, took the tea bowl but already saw that in the tray the bowl for the Daoist had two black dates. He said: "Sir, let me exchange cups with you." The Daoist laughed and said: "To be honest with the elder, in these wild mountains this poor Daoist lacks tea and fruits for the moment; just now I went behind to personally search for fruits, and only had these twelve red dates, made into four bowls of tea for your reverence. And I cannot sit idly without partaking, so I took two inferior dates to make one bowl to accompany you. This is my humble respect." Wukong laughed and said: "What talk is that? The ancients say: 'Is it not poverty at home? But poverty on the road kills a man.' You are a householder—how can you speak of poverty? It is we wandering monks who are truly poor. Let me exchange with you. Let me exchange with you." Hearing this, Sanzang said: "Wukong, this immortal truly means to show hospitality. Just drink it—why exchange?" Wukong had no choice; he took it with his left hand, covered it with his right, and watched them.
Now Bajie, on one hand hungry, on the other thirsty—for his appetite was huge—seeing three red dates in the bowl, picked it up and gulped them all down into his belly. The master also ate, and Sha Wujing ate as well. In an instant, Bajie's face changed color, Sha Wujing's eyes streamed with tears, and Tang Sanzang foamed at the mouth. They could not remain seated; they fainted and fell to the ground.
The Great Sage knew it was poison. He raised the tea bowl and hurled it straight at the Daoist's face. The Daoist blocked it with his sleeve; with a clang, the bowl shattered to pieces. The Daoist angrily said: "You monk, you are utterly boorish! Why have you smashed my bowl?" Wukong cursed: "You beast! Look at my three companions—what do you say about them? What quarrel have I with you, that you would drug my people with poisoned tea?" The Daoist said: "You rustic beast, you have brought disaster upon yourself—do you not know it?" Wukong said: "We had just entered your gate, had only exchanged seating and spoken of our native place, and had not uttered a single harsh word—where did we bring any disaster?" The Daoist said: "Did you not beg for food at Pansi Cave? Did you not bathe at Zhuogou Spring?" Wukong said: "Zhuogou Spring belongs to seven female monsters. Since you speak of this, you must be in league with them—you must also be a demon. Do not flee—take my staff!" The splendid Great Sage reached into his ear, pulled out the Golden Cudgel, shook it once to the thickness of a bowl, and swung it at the Daoist's face. The Daoist hastily turned and dodged, then drew a treasured sword to meet him.
As the two cursed and fought, they soon alarmed the female monsters inside. The seven rushed out together and called: "Elder Brother, do not exert yourself—let your little sisters take him." When Wukong saw them, his fury grew even more. Wielding his iron staff with both hands, he unleashed his combat arts and rolled in among them, striking wildly. Then the seven bared their bosoms, thrusting out their snow-white bellies, and from their navel apertures they produced their magic: gudududu—silk cords burst forth in disorder, forming a great canopy that covered Wukong beneath. Seeing the situation unfavorable, Wukong turned over, recited a spell, performed a somersault, and with a po! he burst through the canopy and escaped. Holding in his anger, he rose into the air and looked down. He saw the monsters' silk cords glistening, crisscrossing in every direction, like the warp and weft of a shuttle; in an instant they had shrouded all the halls and pavilions of Yellow Flower Monastery so that nothing was visible. Wukong said: "Formidable, formidable. It is fortunate I did not fall into their hands. No wonder Bajie stumbled so many times. If this is the case, how can we prevail? My master and junior brothers are also poisoned. These fiends are of one mind, but I do not know their origins. I shall go and ask the Earth God."
The splendid Great Sage descended from the clouds, formed a mudra, recited the "Om" syllable true mantra, and summoned the old Earth God again. Trembling, the Earth God knelt by the roadside, kowtowed, and said: "Great Sage, you went to save your master—why have you returned?" Wukong said: "Earlier I saved my master, and not far ahead we came across a Yellow Flower Monastery. I and my master and the others went in to look around, and the abbot welcomed us. While we were still exchanging words, he drugged my master and the others with poisoned tea. I fortunately did not drink the tea, so I struck with my staff. Then he brought up the matter of begging food at Pansi Cave and bathing at Zhuogou Spring, and I knew that fellow was a monster. Just as I engaged him, those seven women ran out and spewed silk cords. Old Sun, thanks to his discernment, escaped. I think you, being the god of this place, surely know their origins—what kind of demons are they? Speak honestly, or I shall strike you." The Earth God kowtowed and said: "Those demons have been here for no more than ten years. Only since three years ago, when I made an inspection, did I see their true forms—they are seven spider spirits. The silk cords they spit are spider silk." Hearing this, Wukong was greatly delighted and said: "According to you, they are trivial. If so, you may return, and I shall use my magic to subdue them." The Earth God kowtowed and departed.
The Pilgrim arrived outside the Yellow Flower Monastery. He plucked seventy hairs from his tail, blew on them with immortal breath, and called out, "Change!" They immediately changed into seventy small Pilgrims. He also blew on the Golden Cudgel with immortal breath and called, "Change!" It immediately changed into seventy-one double-pronged forked cudgels. He gave one to each small Pilgrim, and kept one for himself. They stood outside and used the forks to stir the silk ropes. Putting forth all their strength together and shouting in unison, they broke all the silk ropes, each stirring off more than ten catties. From inside they dragged out seven spider spirits, each as large as a bushel basket. They huddled together, clutching their hands and feet, shrinking their heads, and only cried, "Spare our lives, spare our lives." At this time the seventy small Pilgrims pinned down the seven spiders and refused to let them go. The Pilgrim said, "Do not beat them for now; just make them return my master and junior disciples." The monsters cried out in harsh voices, "Elder brother, give him back Tang Monk, and save our lives!" The Daoist priest ran out from inside and said, "Sisters, I want to eat Tang Monk; I cannot save you." Hearing this, the Pilgrim was furious and said, "Since you will not give back my master, just look at what happens to your sisters!" O great sage, he shook the forked cudgel once, restoring it to a single iron staff, raised it with both hands, and beat the seven spider spirits thoroughly to pulp.
Then he shook his tail twice, retrieved his hairs, and alone wielded his staff, charging inside to strike the Daoist. The Daoist, seeing that he had killed his junior sisters, felt great distress, and fiercely raised his sword to meet him. This bout, each harboring rage, each displayed their divine powers to the fullest. This was a fine battle:
The demon brandished his treasured sword, the Great Sage raised his golden cudgel.
All for Tang Sanzang of the Tang dynasty, first causing seven maidens to perish.
Now they fully display their skills, exerting might and playing tricks, wielding their authority.
The Great Sage's divine radiance was mighty, the demon immortal's courage was rough.
His whole body's techniques were like brocade flowers, his two hands whirling like a windlass.
Ping-pang the sword and staff clashed; dreary wild clouds floated.
They exchanged sharp words, used schemes, back and forth like a painted picture.
They fought till the wind howled, sand flew, wolves and tigers feared; the sky dimmed, earth dark, and the stars vanished.
The Daoist fought with the Great Sage for fifty or sixty rounds, gradually feeling his hands weaken. Suddenly he slackened his sinews and joints, undid his belt, and with a loud sound, took off his black robe. The Pilgrim laughed, "My son, if you can't beat a man, stripping yourself won't help either."
Now this Daoist, having taken off his clothes, raised both hands together, and then from under his two armpits there were a thousand eyes, and from the eyes burst forth golden light, most formidable:
Dense yellow mist, dazzling golden light.
Dense yellow mist, from both sides under his armpits like spurting clouds; dazzling golden light, from a thousand eyes like shooting fire.
Left and right like a golden barrel, east and west like a bronze bell.
This is the demon immortal exerting his magic, the Daoist displaying his divine powers: blinding the eyes, confusing heaven, obscuring sun and moon; enveloping a man with scorching, stifling haze; trapping the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, Sun Wukong, in the golden light and yellow mist.
The Pilgrim was flustered, turning about wildly within the golden light's shadow; forward he could not step, backward he could not move his feet, like turning inside a barrel. Unable to bear the scorching heat, he grew desperate, and with a great leap upward, he crashed through the golden light, but fell headlong with a thud. He felt a headache from the collision. He quickly reached up and felt his head, and found the skin on his crown had been softened. He muttered anxiously, "Bad luck, bad luck! This head of mine is useless today. Usually, swords and axes can't damage it, but how has this golden light softened my flesh? In time it will surely fester. Even if it heals, it will be a tetanus infection." After a while, unable to bear the scorching heat, he reasoned with himself: "I can't go forward, can't go back, can't go left, can't go right, and can't jump up—what's to be done? I'll go down, then!"
Good Great Sage, he recited a spell, shook his body, and changed into a pangolin, also called a scaly anteater. Truly it was:
Four iron claws, drilling through mountains and crushing rocks like powder; scales all over its body, breaking ridges and piercing cliffs like slicing scallions.
Its two eyes bright, like twin stars shining; its mouth sharp and pointed, stronger than steel drills and golden awls.
In medicine there is the penetrating mountain armor, commonly called the scaly anteater.
Look at him: he braced his head and burrowed into the ground, drilling for over twenty li before he emerged. It turned out the golden light only covered more than ten li. After coming out and resuming his original form, he was weak, his sinews numb, his whole body aching, and tears streamed from his eyes involuntarily. He suddenly cried out, "Master! In former years, I received the teaching and left the mountain, together we came west, toiling hard. The great ocean's waves I did not fear, yet in a ditch I met the wind."
The Handsome Monkey King was in the midst of grief when he suddenly heard someone weeping behind the mountain. He straightened up, wiped his tears, and turned to look. He saw a woman dressed in deep mourning, holding in her left hand a bowl of cold gruel and water, and in her right hand several sheets of paper money and yellow spirit cash, coming from over there, weeping at every step. The Pilgrim nodded and sighed, "Just so: 'Weeping eyes meet weeping eyes; broken-hearted person meets broken-hearted person.' This woman—what is she weeping for? Let me ask her." Before long the woman came up and met the Pilgrim. He bowed and asked, "Bodhisattva, for whom are you weeping?" The woman, with tears in her eyes, said, "My husband had an argument with the master of Yellow Flower Monastery over buying bamboo poles, and he poisoned him to death with a drugged tea. I am burning these paper offerings to repay our marital affection." Hearing this, the Pilgrim shed tears. When the woman saw this, she became angry and said, "You are so ignorant. I am grieving for my husband, why do you have teary eyes and sorrowful brows, mocking me with a deceitful heart?"
The Pilgrim bowed and said, "Bodhisattva, calm your anger. I am the senior disciple Sun Wukong, Pilgrim, of the Tang Monk Sanzang, the imperial younger brother and envoy of the Great Tang in the East. Because we are traveling to the Western Heaven, we passed by Yellow Flower Monastery to rest our horses. The Daoist priest in that monastery—I do not know what kind of demon he is—had formed a sworn brother-sister relationship with seven spider spirits. The spider spirits wanted to harm my master in the Cave of Silk Threads, but I and my junior disciples Bajie and Sha Seng rescued him. Those spider spirits came to him here and spread slander, saying that we had intended to deceive them. The Daoist then drugged my master and my junior disciples—three persons in all, and with the horse, four mouths—and trapped them in his monastery. Only I did not drink his tea; I smashed the teacup, and he fought with me. While we were wrangling, the seven spider spirits came out and spat out silk ropes, entangling me. But I used my magic to escape. I asked the Earth Spirit, who told me their true forms. Then I used my multiplication magic to break the silk ropes, dragged out the demons, and beat them to death with my staff. This Daoist then sought revenge for them, raised his sword and fought me. After sixty rounds, he was defeated, then he took off his clothes and from his two armpits released a thousand eyes, emitting myriad golden beams that enveloped me. So I could neither advance nor retreat, and I changed into a pangolin and burrowed out from underground. I was just grieving when I heard your weeping, so I asked. Because I saw you had these paper money offerings for your husband, while my master has perished and I have nothing to offer him, I lamented and became sad—how would I dare to mock you?"
The woman set down the rice, water, and paper money, and apologized to Pilgrim, saying, "Do not be offended, do not be offended. I did not know that you were one in distress. From what you have just told me, it seems you do not recognize that Daoist. He is in fact the Hundred-Eyed Demon Lord, also called the Many-Eyed Monster. Since you have such powers of transformation and could escape from his golden light and fight him for so long, you must possess great supernatural abilities—yet you still cannot get near that creature. I will tell you to go invite a certain holy sage, who can break his golden light and subdue the Daoist."
When Pilgrim heard this, he hastily made a bow and said, "Bodhisattva, since you know the origin of this matter, I beg you to instruct me. Which holy sage is this? I shall go request his help, to rescue my master from his ordeal and also to avenge your husband."
The woman said, "If I tell you and you go invite him, he may subdue the Daoist, but that will only serve to take revenge—I fear he cannot save your master."
Pilgrim said, "Why can he not save him?"
The woman replied, "That creature's poison is most vicious: once it poisons a man, within three days his very marrow and bones will rot away. If you go and return, I fear it will be too late, and thus he cannot be saved."
Pilgrim said, "I know how to travel quickly; no matter how far it is, it will take me only half a day."
The woman said, "Since you can travel quickly, listen to me: from here to that place is a thousand li away. Over there there is a mountain called Purple Cloud Mountain. In the mountain there is a cave called Thousand Flower Cave, and in that cave lives a holy sage named Pi Lan Po, who can subdue this monster."
Pilgrim said, "Where is that mountain situated? From which direction should I go?"
The woman pointed with her hand and said, "Due south from here."
When Pilgrim turned his head to look, the woman had already vanished. Pilgrim hurriedly bowed and said, "Which Bodhisattva is this? Your disciple is so confused that I cannot recognize you. I beg you to leave your name, so that I may thank you properly."
Then from mid-air a voice called, "Great Sage, it is I." Pilgrim hastily looked up and saw that it was Old Mother Li Shan. He rose into the air and thanked her, saying, "Old Mother, from where have you come to instruct me?"
The Old Mother said, "I have just returned from the Dragon Flower Assembly, and I saw that your master was in difficulty. I therefore disguised myself as a filial widow, using the pretext of mourning my husband, to spare him from death for the moment. Go quickly to invite her, but you must not say that I was the one who instructed you, for that holy sage is somewhat peculiar and dislikes others."
Pilgrim thanked her, took his leave, and with a single somersault cloud shot straight to Purple Cloud Mountain. He steadied his cloud and saw Thousand Flower Cave before him. Outside the cave:
Green pines shaded the fair scene,
Jade cypress encircled the immortal's dwelling.
Willow trees lined the mountain paths,
Rare flowers filled the stream beds.
Fragrant orchids surrounded the stone house,
Sweet grasses reflected on the crags.
Flowing waters joined the blue stream,
Clouds sealed the ancient trees in mist.
Wild fowls called noisily,
Gentle deer stepped slowly.
Slender bamboos showed their beauty branch by branch,
Red plum trees spread their leaves in comfort.
Winter crows roosted in ancient trees,
Spring birds chirped in tall elms.
Summer wheat filled the broad fields,
Autumn grain covered the land beyond.
In all four seasons no leaves fell,
In all eight festivals flowers bloomed as ever.
Ever arose auspicious vapors reaching to the heavens,
Always floated propitious clouds joining the void.
This Great Sage happily walked inside, taking in the boundless scenery stage by stage. He went straight in, but there was not a single person—utterly still and silent, not even the sound of fowl or dog. He thought to himself, "This holy sage must not be at home." After walking another couple of li, he saw a female Daoist sitting on a couch. Look at her appearance:
She wore a five-colored brocade cap,
And a robe of woven gold.
On her feet were cloud-tipped phoenix-head shoes,
At her waist hung a gathered-silk double-tasseled sash.
Her face bore the autumn look of one aged after frost,
Her voice was as lovely as a spring swallow before the festival.
Long had she mastered the Three Vehicles in her heart,
Ever she cultivated the Four Noble Truths in her mind.
She had realized the true fruit of emptiness,
And perfected the freedom of total understanding.
This was indeed the Buddha of Thousand Flower Cave,
The Bodhisattva Pi Lan, whose name stood high.
Pilgrim could not stop his steps; he approached and called out, "Bodhisattva Pi Lan Po, I pay my respects." The Bodhisattva immediately rose from her couch, pressed her palms together, and returned the greeting, saying, "Great Sage, forgive me for not receiving you. From where have you come?"
Pilgrim said, "How is it that you recognize me as the Great Sage?"
Pi Lan Po said, "When you caused havoc in Heaven in those days, your image was spread throughout the world. Who does not know you? Who does not recognize you?"
Pilgrim said, "Just so: 'Good deeds never leave the house, but evil deeds spread a thousand li.' Now that I have turned to the Buddha's path, you no longer know of me?"
Pi Lan said, "When did you convert? Congratulations, congratulations."
Pilgrim said, "Recently I escaped with my life to protect my master, the Elder Tang, on his journey to the Western Heaven to fetch scriptures. My master encountered the Daoist of Yellow Flower Monastery, who drugged him with poisoned tea. I fought with that creature, and he released his golden light to trap me, but I used my powers to escape. I have heard that you, Bodhisattva, can destroy his golden light, and so I have come especially to beg your help."
The Bodhisattva said, "Who told you this? I have not left this place since I attended the Ullambana Festival, over three hundred years ago. I have hidden my name and traces, and no one knows of me—how did you come to know?"
Pilgrim said, "I am a spirit of the earth—I can find out anything, anywhere, on my own."
Pi Lan said, "Very well, very well. I should not go, but since the Great Sage has come in person, I cannot let the merit of seeking scriptures be diminished. I shall go with you."
Pilgrim thanked her and said, "I am most ignorant to presume to urge you so hastily. But may I ask if you have brought any weapons?"
The Bodhisattva said, "I have an embroidered needle that can break that creature."
Pilgrim could not help but say, "Old Mother has misled me! Had I known it was only an embroidered needle, I would not have troubled you—I could have produced a whole load of them myself."
Pi Lan said, "Your embroidered needles are nothing but steel or iron or gold pins—they are useless. My treasure is neither steel, nor iron, nor gold; it was refined in the eye of my son during the day."
Pilgrim said, "Who is your son?"
Pi Lan said, "My son is the Star Lord of the Rooster Constellation."
Pilgrim was greatly astonished. Soon they saw a dazzling golden light ahead, and he turned to Pi Lan and said, "Where that golden light is—that is Yellow Flower Monastery."
Pi Lan then took from her collar an embroidered needle, about as thick as an eyebrow and five or six tenths of an inch long. She held it in her hand and tossed it into the air. In a moment, there was a sound, and the golden light was broken.
Pilgrim exclaimed joyfully, "Bodhisattva, wonderful! Wonderful! Now find the needle, find the needle."
Pi Lan held it in her palm and said, "Is this not it?"
Pilgrim then descended with her through the clouds and entered the monastery, where they saw the Daoist with his eyes shut, unable to move. Pilgrim cursed, "You foul monster, are you pretending to be blind?" He took his staff from his ear and was about to strike.
Pi Lan stopped him, saying, "Great Sage, do not strike him yet. First go and see to your master."
Pilgrim went straight to the guest quarters at the rear and saw the three of them lying on the ground, spitting and drooling. Pilgrim wept and said, "What shall we do? What shall we do?"
Pi Lan said, "Great Sage, do not grieve. Since I have come out today, let me do a deed of hidden virtue. I have an antidote pill here—I will give you three."
Pilgrim turned and bowed, pleading for them. The Bodhisattva took out a worn paper packet from her sleeve, inside which were three red pills, and handed them to Pilgrim, telling him to put them into their mouths. Pilgrim pried open their jaws and forced one pill into each of their mouths. In a short while, the medicine reached their stomachs, and all three vomited together, bringing up the poison and regaining their lives.
Bajie was the first to get up and said, "I was stifled to death!"
Tripitaka and Sha Seng both awoke and said, "How dizzy we feel!"
Pilgrim said, "You were poisoned in that tea. Thanks to this Bodhisattva Pi Lan for saving you—come quickly and pay your respects."
Tripitaka sat up, straightened his clothes, and gave thanks.
"Elder Brother," said Bajie, "where is that Daoist priest? Let me ask him why he has harmed us like this." Wukong then recounted the whole affair of the spider spirits. Bajie snarled in fury, "Since this wretch is sisters with spiders, he is certainly a demon." Wukong pointed and said, "There he stands outside the hall, pretending to be blind." Bajie raised his rake to strike, but Pilanzhu stopped him, saying, "Heavenly Marshal, calm your anger. The Great Sage knows that there is no one in my cave; let me take him back to guard my gate." Wukong said, "I am deeply grateful for your great virtue—how could I not comply? But only let him show his true form, so we may have a look." Pilanzhu said, "That is easy." She then stepped forward and pointed with her hand, and with a thud the Daoist priest fell to the dust, revealing his original body—it was a great centipede spirit, seven feet long. Pilanzhu lifted it with her little finger, mounted the auspicious clouds, and flew straight back to the Thousand-Flower Cave.
Bajie threw his head back and said, "This old mother is indeed formidable—how did she subdue such a vile creature?" Wukong laughed and said, "I asked her what weapon she had to break his golden light, and she said she had an embroidered needle that her son had refined in his eye while he was alive. When I asked who her son was, she said it was the Star Lord of the Rooster Constellation. I think that the Rooster Star is a rooster, and this old mother must be a hen. A hen is most skilled at subduing centipedes, which is why she could capture him."
When Tripitaka heard this, he made endless bows of reverence. He said, "Disciples, pack up and let us be on our way." Sha Seng then searched inside and found some grain, prepared a vegetarian meal, and they all ate their fill. They led the horse and shouldered the luggage, and invited the master to leave the gate. Wukong set a fire in the kitchen, and in an instant the whole monastery was burned to ashes. Then they strode onward. It is thus:
Tripitaka owed his life to Pilanzhu's grace,
His nature cleared, the Many-Eyed Monster was erased.
But what further events befell them as they went forward? Listen to the next chapter for the resolution.