Chapter 78

As soon as a thought arises, it stirs a hundred demons; The hardest cultivation—what can be done about it? But rely on washing away all dust and defilement, And also use restraint and polishing. Sweep back the ten thousand conditions to return to extinction, Eliminate a thousand monsters without delay. I will surely make you leap out of the cage and trap; When your practice is complete, you shall ascend to the Great Luo. It is said that the Great Sage Sun exhausted his wits, inviting Rulai to subdue the multitude of monsters, freeing the master and disciples from their ordeal, and they left Lion Camel City and traveled west. After several more months, they arrived early in winter. They saw: The plum blossoms on the ridge were about to break forth like jade; The waters of the pond gradually turned to ice. All the red leaves had fallen and drifted away; The green pines took on a fresher hue. Pale clouds drifted as if snow were coming; Withered grass lay flat against the hills. Everywhere the cold light stretched far and wide; The gloomy chill pierced to the bone. The master and disciples braved the cold and wind, lodging in rain and dining on gusts. As they traveled, they saw another city ahead. Sanzang asked, "Wukong, what place is that over there?" The Monkey King said, "We'll know when we get there. If it is the royal seat of a western domain, we must exchange the official pass; if it is a prefecture or county, we just pass through." Before they had finished speaking, they arrived at the city gate. Sanzang dismounted, and the four of them entered the crescent-shaped outer wall. They saw an old soldier leaning against the sunny side of the wall, dozing in the wind. The Monkey King approached, shook him, and called, "Officer." The old soldier suddenly awoke, blearily opened his eyes, and upon seeing the Monkey King, quickly knelt and kowtowed, calling, "Grandfather." The Monkey King said, "Don't be so startled and alarmed. I'm not some evil spirit—why do you call me grandfather?" The old soldier kowtowed and said, "You are the Grandfather Thunder God." The Monkey King said, "Nonsense. I am a monk from the East, going to the Western Heaven to fetch scriptures. I just arrived here and don't know the name of this place—I was asking you." Hearing this, the old soldier finally calmed down, yawned, got up, stretched, and said, "Elder, Elder, forgive this humble man's offense. This place was originally called the Kingdom of Biqiu, but it has now been renamed Xiaozicheng." The Monkey King said, "Is there a sovereign in the kingdom?" The old soldier said, "Yes, yes, yes." The Monkey King then turned to Tang Sanzang and said, "Master, this place was originally the Kingdom of Biqiu, but now it is called Xiaozicheng. I wonder why they changed the name." Sanzang was puzzled and said, "Since it is called Biqiu, why is it now called Xiaozi?" Bajie said, "Perhaps the King of Biqiu has died, and the new king is a young boy, hence the name Xiaozicheng." Sanzang said, "That makes no sense, that makes no sense. Let us go in and ask again in the streets." Sha Wujing said, "Exactly. That old soldier, firstly, doesn't know, and secondly, was frightened into nonsense by Elder Brother. Let us enter the city and inquire." They passed through three more gates and arrived at the main thoroughfare and busy market. The people there were well-dressed and handsome. They saw: Wine shops and singing houses were loud with voices; Colorful shops and tea rooms hung high their curtains. Thousands of households and myriad gates did good business; The six streets and three markets gathered abundant wealth. People buying gold and selling brocade swarmed like ants; They scrambled for profit and fame, all for money. Their manners were dignified, the scenery splendid— A time of peace, with rivers clear and seas calm. The four master and disciples, leading the horse and carrying the load, walked through the streets for quite a while, unable to take in all the bustling splendor. But they noticed that at every household's gate there was a goose cage. Sanzang said, "Disciples, why do the people here all place goose cages at their doors?" Hearing this, Bajie looked left and right—indeed, there were goose cages, each draped with colored silks of five hues. The idiotic fellow laughed and said, "Master, today must be an auspicious day for marriages and friendly gatherings; they are all performing ceremonies." The Monkey King said, "Nonsense, how could every household be performing ceremonies? There must be a reason—let me go forward and have a look." Sanzang grabbed him and said, "Don't go—your face is ugly; people will take offense." The Monkey King said, "I will change into something else." The Great Sage, twisting his fingers and reciting a spell, shook his body and changed into a honeybee. Spreading his wings, he flew near and crept under the curtain to look. Inside sat a small child. He went to the second cage—also a small child. He looked at eight or nine cages in a row—all small children. They were all boys, with no girls. Some sat in the cages playing, some sat crying, some ate fruit, and some were either sleeping or sitting. After looking, the Monkey King resumed his original form and reported to Sanzang, "In those cages are small children; the oldest are less than seven, the youngest only five. I don't know why." Sanzang, hearing this, was filled with doubt and unease. Turning a corner, they saw a government office—the Jinting Posthouse. The elder was pleased and said, "Disciples, let us enter this posthouse: first, to ask about this place; second, to rest the horses; and third, to lodge for the night as it is getting late." Sha Wujing said, "Exactly, exactly—let us go in quickly." The four entered happily. The officials on duty reported to the posthouse manager, who welcomed them in, and they exchanged greetings. After they were seated, the manager asked, "Elders, from where have you come?" Sanzang said, "Your poor monk has been sent by the Great Tang of the East to fetch scriptures from the Western Heaven. Now that I have arrived at your honorable place, I have the official pass that should be inspected; I beg to borrow your esteemed quarters for a rest." The manager ordered tea to be served. After tea, he prepared provisions and ordered the attendants to arrange hospitality. Sanzang gave thanks and asked, "May I enter the court today to present myself before the sovereign and have the pass verified?" The manager said, "It cannot be done tonight; you must wait until tomorrow's morning court. For tonight, please stay the night here at our humble office." After a short while, everything was arranged. The posthouse master invited the four of them to eat a vegetarian meal together, and then ordered his subordinates to sweep the guest rooms for them to rest. Tripitaka thanked him endlessly. Once they were seated, the elder said, "I, a poor monk, have a matter I do not understand and wish to consult you about; may I trouble you for some instruction? In your place, how are children raised?" The posthouse master said, "The sky has no two suns, and men have no two principles. Raising children comes from the father's essence and the mother's blood; after ten months of gestation, they are born when the time comes. After birth, they are nursed for three years and gradually grow into form and appearance. How could there be any lack of understanding?" Tripitaka said, "According to your words, it is no different from our country. But when I entered the city, I saw that every household on the streets had set up a goose cage, and all contained small children inside. I do not understand this matter, so I dare to ask." The posthouse master leaned close and whispered, "Elder, do not concern yourself with it, do not ask about it, do not pay it any heed, do not speak of it. Please retire, and resume your journey early tomorrow morning." When the elder heard this, he grabbed hold of the posthouse master and insisted on understanding clearly. The posthouse master shook his head and wagged his finger, only saying, "Be careful of your words." Tripitaka would not let go, and stubbornly demanded a full explanation. The posthouse master had no choice but to dismiss all the official attendants. Alone under the lamplight, he quietly said, "The matter of the goose cages that you asked about is a matter of the present sovereign's misrule. Why do you keep asking about it?" Tripitaka said, "What is this misrule? You must instruct me clearly, so that I may be at ease." The posthouse master said, "This kingdom was originally called Biqiu Kingdom. Recently, there has been a folk rhyme, and it has been renamed Xiaozi City. Three years ago, an old man, dressed as a Daoist, brought a young girl of sixteen years. The girl was delicate and pretty, with a countenance like Guanyin. She was presented as tribute to the present sovereign. His Majesty, enamored of her beauty, favored her in the palace and gave her the title of Beautiful Empress. Lately, he has not cast a single glance at the three palace consorts or the six courtyard concubines. Day and night, he indulges in pleasure without cease. Now he has become spiritually exhausted, his body emaciated, his appetite failing, and his life hangs by a thread. The Imperial Medical Institute has searched out all effective remedies but cannot cure him. The Daoist who presented the girl received an imperial edict of appointment and is called the National Father. The National Father possesses secret prescriptions from beyond the seas that can greatly prolong life. Previously, he went to the Ten Continents and Three Isles to gather medicinal ingredients, and all are now prepared. But the medicine's guiding ingredient is dire: it requires the hearts and livers of one thousand one hundred and eleven small children, decocted into a soup to take with the medicine. After taking it, one gains the effect of eternal youth for a thousand years. The children in these goose cages have all been selected and raised inside. Their parents, fearing the king's law, dare not even weep. Thus the rumor spread, and it is called Xiaozi City. Elder, when you go to court tomorrow morning, only exchange your travel documents, and do not mention this matter." Having said this, he withdrew. This so frightened the elder that his bones went soft and his sinews numb, and he could not stop the tears streaming down his cheeks. Suddenly he cried out, "Fatuous sovereign! Fatuous sovereign! For the sake of your pleasure and love of beauty, you have brought on illness, and then how can you wrongfully take the lives of so many children? Bitter! Bitter! It grieves me to death!" There is a poem to attest to this. The poem says: The wicked ruler, ignorant, lost truth and right, Indulging in pleasure, unaware, he harmed his health. Seeking eternal life, he slaughters children's lives, To relieve heaven's scourge, he kills the common folk. The monk, moved by compassion, finds it hard to let go, The official's words of danger are unbearable to hear. Before the lamp, shedding tears, he sighs deeply, Grieving, he bows down, a man devoted to Buddha. Bajie came forward and said, "Master, what has come over you? You are taking other people's coffins and weeping in your own home. Do not be troubled. As the saying goes: 'If the ruler orders his minister to die, and the minister does not die, he is not loyal; if the father orders his son to perish, and the son does not perish, he is not filial.' The harm he does is to his own subjects—what has it to do with you? Come, loosen your clothes and sleep, and do not grieve for the ancients." Tripitaka said with tears, "Disciple, you are a man without compassion. We who have left home accumulate merit and practice virtue—first and foremost, we must act with convenience. How can this fatuous sovereign act so recklessly? Never has it been seen that eating human hearts and livers can prolong life. When I see such things, how can I not be sad?" Sha Seng said, "Master, do not grieve for now. Wait until tomorrow morning when we exchange the travel documents, and we will speak directly with the king. If he does not comply, we shall see what kind of National Father he is. Perhaps that National Father is an evil spirit, and wants to eat people's hearts and livers, thus he devised this scheme—that is not impossible." Wukong said, "Wujing speaks reasonably. Master, you should sleep for now. Tomorrow, let Old Sun accompany you to court and see what sort of National Father he is. If he is human, I fear he has taken a deviant path and does not know the true way, merely taking herbal gathering as genuine; then Old Sun will use the essential principles of the Primal Heaven to convert him back to orthodoxy. If he is an evil spirit, I will capture him and show him to the king, and make the king restrain his desires and nurture his body—I will certainly not let him harm those children's lives." When Tripitaka heard this, he hurriedly bowed and saluted Wukong, saying, "Disciple, this plan is excellent, excellent. But when we see the fatuous sovereign, we must not immediately ask about this matter, for fear that he, without distinguishing near from far, will take it as slander and hold us guilty—then what shall we do?" Wukong laughed, "Old Sun has his own magical powers. For now, I will first transport the children in the goose cages out of this city, so that tomorrow he will have nothing to take hearts from. The local officials will surely submit a memorial. That fatuous sovereign will then issue an edict, either to consult with the National Father or to select and report anew. At that time, we can take that opportunity to present our case, and I assure you no blame will fall on us." Tripitaka was very pleased. He added, "But how will the children be taken out of the city? If they can indeed be freed, it would be a most virtuous deed of my worthy disciple. Do it quickly; if we delay a little, it may be too late." Wukong roused his divine might and stood up, instructing Bajie and Sha Seng: "Sit with Master, and watch my work. As soon as you see a yin wind blowing, that means the children are leaving the city." The three of them together chanted, "Namo Medicine Buddha who saves lives! Namo Medicine Buddha who saves lives!" This Great Sage went out the door, gave a whistle, rose into midair, made a hand seal, recited the true incantation, and called out "Om Pure Dharma Realm!" He summoned the City God, the Earth God, the Society Deities, the True Officials, as well as the Five Directional Guardians, the Four Time Watchers, the Six Ding and Six Jia, and the Temple Protectors, etc., all of whom came to the air and saluted him, saying, "Great Sage, you call us at night—what urgent matter is there?" Wukong said, "Now, because we are passing through Biqiu Kingdom, the king is unprincipled and heeds evil beings, wishing to take children's hearts and livers as a medicine guide in hopes of attaining immortality. My master is most distressed and wishes to save the children and destroy the demon. Therefore, Old Sun specially invites you all to use your respective divine powers to take all the children in the goose cages of every household on the city streets, along with the cages, out of the city to the mountain hollows or deep in the forests, and hide them for a day or two. Give them some fruits to eat so they do not starve; and secretly protect them so they are not frightened or caused to cry. After I have eliminated the evil, governed the kingdom, and persuaded the king to reform, when we depart, I will have them returned to me." The various gods, hearing the command, each used their divine powers and descended from the clouds. Throughout the city, yin winds rolled and dense mists spread: The yin wind blew dark, dimming the stars across the sky; The dense mist shrouded the bright moonlight for a thousand li. At first it swayed and drifted gently, Then it roared and raged violently. Swaying and drifting, each sought out doorways to rescue the children; Roaring and raging, all looked to the goose cages to save their flesh and blood. The cold air pierced them—how could they lift their heads? The chill penetrated their bodies, making clothes like iron. Parents merely flustered, elder brothers and sisters all grief-stricken. All over the ground rolled the yin wind, and the cages were taken by the gods. Though this night they were forlorn, at dawn all would be joyful. There is a poem to attest to this, the poem says: The Buddhist gate's compassion has been many since ancient times, True goodness achieves success, as taught in the Mahayana. All the myriad saints and true immortals accumulate virtue, The Three Refuges and Five Precepts must be followed in harmony. In Biqiu Kingdom, it is not the ruler's disorder alone, But a thousand young children, their lives are in error. Because Wukong, with his master, together rescue them, This hidden merit surpasses even the Paramita. That night, around the third watch, the various deities took the goose cages and hid them in various places. The Pilgrim pressed down his auspicious light and went straight to the post-house courtyard, where he heard the other three still reciting "Namo Savior Medicine Buddha." He was secretly pleased and approached, calling out, "Master, I have come. How was that yin wind?" Bajie said, "A fine yin wind." Sanzang asked, "As for the matter of saving the children, what then?" The Pilgrim said, "I have already saved them all out; when we set out, they will be sent back." The elder thanked him again and again, and only then did they retire to sleep. At daybreak, Sanzang awoke and made himself fully ready, saying, "Wukong, I shall go to the morning court to exchange the travel documents." The Pilgrim said, "Master, if you go by yourself, it may not work out well. Better that I go with you and see how that State Elder stands—whether he is of the right or the evil path." Sanzang said, "If you go, you will not bow in formal ceremony, and the king may take offense." The Pilgrim said, "I shall not show myself, but follow you in secret, and that will serve as protection." Sanzang was very pleased, and instructed Bajie and Sha Seng to watch over the luggage and the horse, then he set out. The post-house master came again to see him, and seeing this elder fully robed, he was quite different from the day before. Behold: On his body he wore a jeweled monk's robe of brocade and rare treasures, On his head a golden-crowned Vairocana cap. In his hand he held the nine-ringed tin staff, In his breast was hidden a wondrous ray of divine light. The travel passport was close at his side, In his bundle bag were wrapped brocade covers. He walked like an Arhat descending to the world, Truly like a living Buddha in real countenance. When the post-house master had finished his greeting, he leaned in and whispered, only advising him not to meddle in idle affairs. Sanzang nodded and answered. The Great Sage, lurking by the gate, recited a spell, shook his body, and changed into a tiny cicada, with a buzz flying onto Sanzang's cap. He left the post-house and went straight to the court. Arriving outside the court gate, he saw the ushering officer and made a salute, saying, "I am a poor monk sent from the Great Tang of the East to fetch scriptures from the Western Heavens. Now that I have arrived in your noble region, it is proper to exchange the travel passport. I wish to have an audience with His Majesty; I beg you to convey this." The ushering officer indeed passed on the message. The king was pleased and said, "A monk from afar must possess virtuous practice." He ordered that he be invited in. The ushering officer, carrying out the decree, invited the elder inside. After the elder had paid his respects at the foot of the steps, he was again invited up to the hall and given a seat. The elder thanked for the grace and sat down. He saw that the king's countenance was gaunt and sickly, his spirit weary: when he raised his hands, his gestures were awkward and unsteady; when he spoke, his voice was broken and intermittent. The elder presented the travel passport; the king, with dim and bleary eyes, looked at it again and again, then took the precious seal and affixed his signature, handing it back to the elder. The elder received it and put it away. The king was about to ask the reason for the scripture-seeking journey when the attendant officer announced, "The State Elder has arrived." The king then supported himself on his close attendant, struggled down from the dragon couch, and bowed to receive him. The elder, startled, quickly rose and stood aside. Turning his head to look, he saw that it was an old Daoist, swaying and sauntering in from before the jade steps. Behold: On his head he wore a pale goose-yellow nine-tasseled cloud-brocade gauze cap, On his body a dark plum-colored incense-scented silk-cotton crane cloak. Around his waist a girdle of twisted blue triple-strand gathered-thread sash, On his feet a pair of hemp-warp and kudzu-weft cloud-topped shoes. In his hand he leaned on a nine-jointed withered-vine coiled-dragon staff, At his breast hung an embroidered dragon-and-phoenix round-patterned brocade pouch. His jade-like face was smooth and glistening, His grey whiskers drifted beneath his chin. Golden pupils blazed with flame, Long eyes stretched past his brows. When he moved, clouds followed his steps; At his ease, fragrant mists surrounded him. All the officials below the steps bowed to receive him, In unison hailing the State Elder as he entered the court. When the State Elder reached the precious hall, he did not bow at all, but strode in arrogantly and directly to the dais. The king straightened up and said, "The immortal trace of the State Elder—how delightful that you have come early today." He then invited him to sit on the embroidered stool at the left. Sanzang took a step forward, bowed, and said, "State Elder, this poor monk greets you." The State Elder sat high and upright without returning the greeting, then turned to face the king and asked, "Whence comes this monk?" The king said, "He is sent from the Great Tang of the East to fetch scriptures from the Western Heavens, and has now come to have his passport verified." The State Elder laughed and said, "The road to the West is dark and vast—what good is there?" Sanzang said, "Since ancient times, the West has been the supremely blissful pure land—how could it not be good?" The king then asked, "I have heard that in antiquity it was said: 'Monks are disciples of the Buddha.' But I truly do not know—can a monk avoid death? Can one who turns to the Buddha attain long life?" Sanzang, upon hearing this, quickly pressed his palms together and replied: "For one who becomes a monk, all worldly affinities are cast aside; For one who realizes his nature, all dharmas are empty. Great wisdom is leisurely and at ease, dwelling in tranquility beyond birth; True mystery is silent, roaming freely within nirvana. When the three realms are empty, all afflictions are cured; When the six roots are pure, all the thousand poisons end. If you would be firmly aware and enlightened, you must recognize the mind: When the mind is pure, the solitary light shines alone; When the mind is present, all realms become clear. The true countenance lacks neither excess nor deficiency—it may be seen in this life; Phantom forms have shape but ultimately decay—what else do you seek beyond? Practicing meditation and sitting in contemplation is the foundation of entering samadhi; Bestowing kindness and showing grace is the basis of cultivation. Great skill appears clumsy—know that all things are non-action; Good planning is no scheme—you must let go of every attachment. As long as the one mind does not stir, all practices are naturally perfected; But to speak of drawing yin to supplement yang—that is indeed false talk. Taking elixirs for long life—these are truly empty words. Only by abandoning all worldly dust and seeing all forms as empty, By being simple and pure, with few desires, Can one naturally enjoy boundless longevity without end." When the State Elder heard this, he laughed at it. Pointing at Tang Monk with his finger, he said, "Hehehe, you monk, your mouth is full of nonsense. In the gate of nirvana, one should speak of recognizing the nature. But you do not know from what that nature is extinguished. Sitting in dull meditation—all that is blind cultivation and deluded practice. As the common saying goes: 'Sit, sit, sit—your backside will split. Fire will torment and scorch, and only disaster will result.' Still less do you know of my way: Those who cultivate immortality have firm and elegant bones; Those who attain the Dao have the most numinous spirit. Carrying a bamboo basket and gourd, they visit friends in the mountains; Gathering a hundred herbs, they come to the world to save the people. Plucking immortal flowers to weave their hats, Breaking fragrant orchids to spread as mats. They sing with clapping hands, And after dancing, sleep among the clouds. They proclaim the Dao and exalt the true teaching of the Most High; They dispense talismanic water to rid the world of demonic miasma. They seize the hidden essence of heaven and earth, And gather the brilliant quintessence of sun and moon. By regulating yin and yang, the elixir forms; By harmonizing water and fire, the embryo congeals. When the two eights' yin vanishes, it is like a trance, like a haze; When the three nines' yang grows, it is as dim, as obscure. In response to the four seasons they gather the medicinal substances, And after nine cycles of refinement, the elixir is completed. Riding the green phoenix, they ascend to the Purple Mansion; Riding the white crane, they go up to the Jade Capital. They display the full splendor of heaven, To manifest the devotion of the wondrous Dao. Compare this to your quietistic Chan teaching, your nirvana of yin spirits, Your parinirvana that leaves behind a stinking shell, And still does not escape the mundane world. Among the three teachings there is no supreme rank; Since ancient times, only the Dao has been honored as sovereign." When the king heard this, he was greatly delighted. All the officials in the court applauded, saying, "Excellent—'only the Dao has been honored as sovereign,' 'only the Dao has been honored as sovereign.'" The elder, seeing everyone praising him, felt unspeakable shame. The king then ordered the Court of Imperial Banquets to prepare a vegetarian feast for the monk from afar, to be sent out of the city on his westward journey. Sanzang thanked for the grace and withdrew. Just as he descended the steps and was walking out, the Pilgrim flew down from the top of his cap and came to his ear, saying, "Master, this State Elder is a demonic fiend, and the king has been infected by demonic aura. You go first to the post-house and wait for the vegetarian meal; I will stay here and listen for news." Sanzang understood, and went out of the court gate alone—no more of that for now. Look at that Great Sage, who flew with one wing and alighted on the emerald screen within the Golden Luan Hall. Thereupon, from among the ranks of officials, the military commander of the Five Cities stepped forth and reported: "Your Majesty, last night a cold wind arose and carried away the children in their cages from every lane and every house, cages and all, leaving not a trace." When the king heard this memorial, he was both startled and furious, and said to the Royal Father-in-Law: "This matter is Heaven's destruction of me. For months my illness has grown worse, and the imperial physicians have been of no avail. Fortunately, Your Majesty's father-in-law bestowed a divine prescription, and we have been waiting specially for noon today to perform the operation and take these children's hearts and livers as the guiding ingredient. Who could have expected that a cold wind would carry them off? Is this not Heaven's intent to destroy me?" The Royal Father-in-Law laughed and said: "Your Majesty, do not trouble yourself. The carrying off of these children is precisely Heaven's gift of longevity to Your Majesty." The king said: "But the children in the cages have been carried off—how can you say instead that Heaven is giving longevity?" The Royal Father-in-Law said: "Just as I entered the court, I saw an excellent guiding ingredient, far superior to the hearts of those one thousand one hundred and eleven children. Those children's hearts could only extend Your Majesty's life by a thousand years. But with this guiding ingredient, after taking my immortal elixir, you may extend it by ten thousand myriads of years." The king was utterly at a loss as to what this guiding ingredient was, and asked repeatedly. Only then did the Royal Father-in-Law say: "That monk sent from the East to fetch the scriptures—I observe that his bearing is pure and his countenance upright. He is a true body that has cultivated for ten lifetimes. Since childhood he became a monk, and his primal yang has never been dissipated. He is ten thousand times stronger than those children. If we can obtain his heart and liver to decoct as a broth, and take it with my immortal elixir, it will surely preserve a lifespan of ten thousand years." When that benighted ruler heard this, he believed it completely, and said to the Royal Father-in-Law: "Why did you not say so earlier? If it is truly so effective, I should have detained him just now and not let him go." The Royal Father-in-Law said: "What difficulty is there in this? Just now I instructed the Court of Imperial Entertainments to prepare a vegetarian feast for him. He will surely leave the city only after eating. Now quickly issue an edict to close all the city gates, muster troops to surround the Golden Pavilion Post-house, seize that monk, and with due ceremony beg for his heart. If he complies, we shall immediately cut him open and take it out, then give his body an imperial burial, and even build a temple for him with offerings. If he does not comply, then we shall give him a taste of military roughness, bind him at once, cut him open and take it—what difficulty is there?" That benighted ruler followed his words and issued the edict, closing all the gates. He also dispatched the Imperial Forest Guards, both officers and soldiers, to surround the post-house. When the Great Sage heard this news, he flew with one wing straight back to the post-house, resumed his true form, and said to Tang Monk: "Master, calamity, calamity." The Tripiṭaka Master had just received the imperial vegetarian feast with Eight Rules and Sand Monk, when upon hearing these words he was so terrified that his three corporeal spirits scattered and smoke rose from his seven orifices. He collapsed to the ground, drenched in sweat, his eyes unable to focus, and his mouth unable to speak. In panic, Sand Monk stepped forward to support him, crying only: "Master, wake up, Master, wake up." Eight Rules said: "What calamity? What calamity? If you had spoken a bit more slowly, that would have been fine, but you have frightened Master so." The Great Sage said: "After Master left the court, I looked back and saw that the Royal Father-in-Law is a demon. Shortly after, the military commander of the Five Cities came to report the matter of the cold wind carrying off the children. The king was just getting angry, but that fellow turned it into joy, saying: 'This is Heaven sending longevity to you.' He wants to take Master's heart and liver as a medicinal guiding ingredient, to extend his life for ten thousand years. That benighted ruler believed these slanderous words, and so has mustered elite troops to surround the post-house, and dispatched a Brocade-clad Officer to come and invite Master to beg for his heart." Eight Rules laughed and said: "Well done, your kindly compassion—well saved, those children—well blown, that dark wind—and now trouble has indeed come of it." Tripiṭaka trembled as he got up, pulled at the Great Sage, and pleaded: "Worthy disciple, what is to be done about this?" The Great Sage said: "If we want things to go well, the great must make itself small." Sand Monk said: "What is meant by 'the great must make itself small'?" The Great Sage said: "If we want to preserve our lives, the master shall act as disciple, and the disciple as master—only thus can we be safe." Tripiṭaka said: "If you can save my life, I am willing to be your disciple and your disciple's disciple." The Great Sage said: "Since that is so, do not delay." He ordered: "Eight Rules, quickly mix some mud." That blockhead at once used his rake to dig up some earth. Not daring to go outside for water, he then lifted his clothes and urinated, mixing a lump of stinking mud, and handed it to the Great Sage. The Great Sage had no choice but to pat the mud into a flat piece, place it over his own face, and fashion a monkey-face visage. He told Tripiṭaka to stand still and not speak. Then he stuck it onto Tripiṭaka's face, recited a true mantra, blew a breath of immortal energy, and called: "Change!" That elder was instantly transformed into the likeness of the Great Sage. He took off his own clothes and put on the Great Sage's clothes. The Great Sage then put on his master's clothes, made a mudra, recited a spell, and with a shake of his body changed his appearance into that of Tripiṭaka. Even Eight Rules and Sand Monk could not tell them apart. Just as they had finished their preparations in unison, they heard the simultaneous beating of gongs and drums, and saw a dense array of spears and swords. It turned out that the officer of the Imperial Forest Guards, leading three thousand soldiers, had surrounded the post-house. Then a Brocade-clad Officer entered the post-house courtyard and asked: "Where is the elder from the Tang of the Eastern Lands?" The post-house master, trembling with fear, knelt down and pointed, saying: "In the guest room below." The Brocade-clad Officer immediately went to the guest room and said: "Elder Tang, our king invites you." Eight Rules and Sand Monk guarded the false Great Sage on left and right. Then the false Tang Monk came out, made a bow, and said: "My lord of the Brocade-clad Guard, why does His Majesty summon this poor monk?" The Brocade-clad Officer stepped forward, grabbed him, and said: "I will take you into court—there must be some use for you." Alas! This is precisely: When demons slander, it overcomes compassion; Compassion instead invites disaster. But as to whether this journey will end in life or death—listen to the next chapter for the resolution.