SEVENTY-NINE

Searching the cave for the fiend he meets Long Life;

The proper lord of the court sees the babies.¹

We were telling you about that Embroidered-uniform Guard, who yanked the spurious Tang Monk out of the postal station. At once the imperial guards had them surrounded before they all headed for the gate of the court. There they said to the Custodian of the Yellow Gate: “We have brought the Tang Monk here. Please report this for us.”

The custodian sent in the memorial hurriedly, and the befuddled king sent for the guest at once. While all the officials knelt down at the foot of the steps to bow to the king, the spurious Tang Monk stood erect at the center of the steps and shouted, “King Bhikṣu, why did you ask this humble cleric to come?”

With a smile, the king said, “An illness has afflicted us for many days and no cure has been found. Fortunately, our royal father-in-law has bestowed on us a prescription for which all the medicines have been prepared. All we need now is one particular supplement, which we must seek from you. If we are cured of our illness, we promise that we shall build a shrine for the elder. You will enjoy sacrifices in all four seasons and perpetual incense fires of the state.”

“I am a person who has left the family,” replied the spurious Tang Monk. “I came here with hardly any possessions on me. Would Your Majesty please ask the royal father-in-law what sort of thing he wants of me for the medical supplement?” “What we need,” said the befuddled king, “is the heart of the elder.”

The spurious Tang Monk said, “To tell you the truth, Your Majesty, I have quite a few hearts. Which color or shape would you like?”

“Priest,” said the royal father-in-law, who was standing on one side, pointing with his finger, “we want your black heart.”

“In that case,” said the spurious Tang Monk, “bring me the knife quickly, so that I may cut open my chest. If I have a black heart, I’ll be pleased to present it to you.” Delighted, the befuddled king thanked him and asked the attendant to the throne to hand the spurious monk a curved dagger. Taking the dagger, the monk untied his robe and stuck out his chest. As he rubbed his belly with his left hand, he plunged the dagger into himself with his right hand and, with a loud ripping noise, tore open his own chest. A mass of hearts rolled out, so terrifying the onlookers that the civil officials paled in fright and the military officers turned numb. When he saw that, the royal father-in-law said in the hall, “This is a monk of many hearts!”²

The spurious monk took those bloody hearts and manipulated them one by one for all to see: a red heart, a white heart, a yellow heart, an avaricious heart, a greedy heart, an envious heart, a petty heart, a competitive heart, an ambitious heart, a scornful heart, a murderous heart, a vicious heart, a fearful heart, a cautious heart, a perverse heart, a nameless obscure heart, and all kinds of wicked hearts. There was, however, not one single black heart!

That befuddled king was so stupefied that he could hardly utter a word. Trembling all over, he could only mutter: “Take them away! Take them away!” Unable to hold back any longer, the spurious Tang Monk retrieved his magic. As he changed back into his original form, he said to the befuddled ruler, “Your Majesty, you have no perception whatever. In priests like us there are only good hearts, but your father-in-law is the one who has a black heart that can be used as the medical supplement.³ If you don’t believe me, let me take it out for you to see.”

On hearing this, that royal father-in-law opened his eyes wide to take a careful look, and he saw that the monk had quite changed his appearance. He no longer looked the same. Aha!

He recognized the Great Sage Sun of old,

Who had great fame five hundred years ago.

Swirling around, he mounted the clouds to rise up, only to be blocked by Pilgrim, who bounded into the air with one somersault. “Where are you running to?” he bellowed. “Have a taste of my rod!”

The royal father-in-law wielded his coiled-dragon staff to meet his adversary, and the two of them began a marvelous battle in midair.

The compliant rod,

The coiled-dragon staff

Spread out the clouds to fill the airy void.

The father-in-law, a monster-spirit,

Claimed for his fiendish daughter beauteous looks.

The ruler’s indulgence brought him disease;

The monster wanted to slaughter young boys.

The Great Sage came to show his magic might:

He seized the fiend and saved the populace.

The iron rod aimed fiercely at the head

Was met by a praiseworthy crooked staff.

They fought till a skyful of mist darkened the city,

Each member of the households paled with fright;

Till souls of all officials left in flight,

All palace girls and consorts changed their looks.

They frightened Bhikṣu’s muddled ruler into frantic hiding

And violent trembling, not knowing what to do.

The rod rose like a tiger springing from the mount;

The staff soared like a dragon breaking from the sea.

Now this great disturbance at Bhikṣu state

Would make distinct the righteous and perverse.

That monster-spirit fought bitterly with Pilgrim for some twenty rounds, but the coiled-dragon staff was no match for the golden-hooped rod. After one half-hearted blow, the royal father-in-law changed into a cold beam of light and sped into the inner chamber of the palace to pick up the fiendish queen whom he had presented as a tribute to the king. Both of them changed into cold beams of light and vanished at once.

Dropping down from the clouds, Pilgrim went to the palace to say to the various officials, “You people have some royal father-in-law!” The officials all began to bow to give thanks to the divine monk. “Stop bowing,” said Pilgrim. “See where your befuddled lord has gone.”

“When our lord saw the fight,” one of the officials replied, “he was driven by fear into hiding. We have no idea which palace he has gone to.” “Search for him quickly!” commanded Pilgrim. “Don’t let Queen Beauty abduct him.” When they heard these words, the officials did not care whether they were permitted to enter the inner chambers or not. Together with Pilgrim they headed straight for the room of Queen Beauty, but not a trace of the king could be found. Even Queen Beauty herself had disappeared. Meanwhile, the queen, the girl’s consort of the Eastern Palace, the consort of the Western Palace, and the concubines of the Six Chambers all came to bow to give thanks to the Great Sage.

“Please rise, all of you,” said the Great Sage. “It’s not time for you to thank me yet. Let’s go find your lord first.” In a little while they saw four or five eunuchs support the befuddled ruler walking out from behind the Hall of Careful Conduct.⁴ Prostrating themselves on the ground, the various officials said in unison, “Our lord! Our lord! We are indebted to the divine monk, who came to distinguish for us the true from the false. That royal father-in-law is a perverse fiend. Even Queen Beauty has disappeared.” When the king heard that, he immediately asked Pilgrim to leave the inner palace and go to the treasure hall with him. “Elder,” he said, as he bowed to Pilgrim to thank him, “when you arrived this morning, you looked so handsome. How is it that you’ve changed your appearance now?”

“To tell you the truth, Your Majesty, the person who came here this morning was my master,” replied Pilgrim, laughing. “He is Tripitaka, the bond-brother of the Tang court, and I’m Sun Wukong, his disciple. I have two other younger brothers—Zhu Wuneng and Sha Wujing—who are now at the Golden Pavilion Postal Station. Because we knew that you believed in the monstrous suggestion and wanted my master’s heart for medical supplement, old Monkey changed into his appearance to come here especially to subdue the fiend.” On hearing this, the king at once commanded one of the chief ministers of the Grand Secretariat to go to the postal station and fetch the master and his disciples.

By this time our Tripitaka had learned that Pilgrim, who had changed back to his original form, was trying to subdue the fiend in midair. The elder was frightened out of his wits, and it was fortunate that Eight Rules and Sha Monk were by his sides to support him. But he was still depressed by that lump of stinking mud that he had to wear on his face. It was then that he heard someone calling, “Master of the Law, we are the chief ministers of the Grand Secretariat sent by the king of the Bhikṣu state. We are here especially to invite you to court so that you may receive our thanks.”

“Master, don’t be afraid! Don’t be afraid!” said Eight Rules, grinning. “They are not inviting you so that they can demand your heart. I think Elder Brother must have won, and they want to thank you.” “That may well be the case,” replied Tripitaka, “but how can I face people with this stinking face?”

“You’ve no choice,” said Eight Rules. “Let’s go see Elder Brother first, and we’ll find a solution.” That elder indeed had little choice but to follow Eight Rules and Sha Monk, who toted the luggage and led the horse out into the courtyard. When the chief minister caught sight of them, he was aghast, crying, “Holy Father! What a bunch of goblins and monsters!” “Minister, please don’t be offended by our ugliness,” said Sha Monk. “We were born this way. But when my master sees my elder brother, he’ll become handsome.”

When the three of them arrived at court, they did not wait for the summons but walked right up to the hall. The moment Pilgrim saw them, he ran down the steps and pulled the lump of mud from his master’s face. Blowing his immortal breath on him, Pilgrim cried “Change!” and the Tang Monk at once assumed his original form, feeling more energetic and spirited than before. Meanwhile, the king himself descended the steps to meet them, addressing the Tang Monk as “Venerable Buddha, Master of the Law.” After master and disciples had tethered the horse, they all went up to the hall to exchange greetings.

“Your Majesty,” said Pilgrim, “do you happen to know where that fiend came from? Let old Monkey go there and seize him, so that any evil consequence will be eliminated.” When all those palace ladies and concubines standing behind the kingfisher screens heard Pilgrim speaking of eliminating any evil consequence, they ignored the observance of proper etiquette between men and women and all walked out together to bow to him, saying, “We beg the divine monk, the venerable buddha, to exercise his mighty magic power. Please pull the grass up by the root and exterminate him thoroughly. For this profound act of kindness we shall repay you handsomely.”

Returning their bows hurriedly, Pilgrim pressed the king for the address of the Daoist. Somewhat abashed, the king spoke up: “When he arrived three years ago, we did question him, and he told us that he lived not too far from here, in Pure Florescence Village on the Willow Slope south of the city some seventy miles away. Though the royal father-in-law was aged, he had no son, only a daughter by his second wife. Having just turned sixteen, she had not been betrothed to anyone, and he was willing to present her as a tribute to us. Since we loved the girl, we accepted her and took her in as a palace consort. Then we were afflicted by illness, which the repeated efforts of the imperial physician could not alleviate. The royal father-in-law told us that he had a divine formula, which required the hearts of young boys to make soup for supplement. It was our folly to have believed in his words so readily. The boys were selected, and the noon hour today, in fact, was to be the appointed time for their hearts to be gouged out. Little did we anticipate that the divine monk would descend to our realm. When we discovered that the boys in the coops had disappeared, he convinced us that the divine monk, who had practiced the cultivation of realized immortality for ten incarnations, had never permitted his original yang to dissipate. If we could acquire his heart, he said, it would be ten thousand times better than the hearts of the little boys. That was the reason for our misguided affront offered to you. We did not know that the divine monk would recognize the fiendish demon. We beseech you to exercise your vast magic power and eliminate all evil consequences, for which we shall thank you with the wealth of a nation.”

“To tell you the honest truth,” said Pilgrim smiling, “those boys in the coops were hidden by me on the merciful request of my master. Don’t speak of repaying us with any wealth or riches. When I’ve caught the fiend, that’ll be my merit.” He then called out: “Eight Rules, follow me quickly!”

“I’m glad to obey you, Elder Brother,” replied Eight Rules, “but my stomach’s so empty I can hardly exert myself.” The king immediately asked the Court of Imperial Entertainments to prepare a vegetarian meal, which soon arrived.

After he had eaten his fill, Eight Rules roused himself and mounted the clouds to rise into the air with Pilgrim. The king, the queens, and all those civil and military officials were so taken aback that they fell to their knees and kowtowed to the sky, all crying, “True immortals, true buddhas have descended to earth!” The Great Sage took Eight Rules straight to a place some seventy miles south of the city, where they stopped the wind and cloud to look for the fiend’s dwelling. All they could see, however, was a clear brook flanked by thousands of willows on both sides, but the Pure Florescence Village was nowhere to be found. Truly

Acres of wild paddies, an endless sight;

Banks of misty willows but no human trace.

After the Great Sage Sun had searched in vain for the fiend, he made the magic sign and recited the immortal word Oṁ, with which he at once summoned into his presence the local spirit. Trembling all over, the deity drew near to kneel down, saying, “Great Sage, the local spirit of Willow Slope kowtows to you.” “Don’t be frightened,” said Pilgrim, “for I’m not going to beat you. I have a question for you instead. This Pure Florescence Village of Willow Slope, where is it?”

“There is here a Pure Florescence Cave,” replied the local spirit, “but no Pure Florescence Village. This humble deity now perceives that the Great Sage perhaps has come here from the Bhikṣu Kingdom?” “Yes, yes!” said Pilgrim. “The Bhikṣu king had been duped by a monster-spirit, but old Monkey recognized the fiend when I reached the city. When that fiend was defeated by me in battle, he changed into a cold beam of light and vanished. I asked the Bhikṣu king, who told us that he did inquire after the fiend’s residence three years ago when he presented a beautiful girl as tribute. The fiend claimed then that he used to live in the Pure Florescence Village on Willow Slope, some seventy miles south of the city. Just now I searched my way here and all I saw was the slope. Since I didn’t find any village, I thought I would ask you.”

“May the Great Sage pardon me!” said the local spirit, kowtowing. “Since the Bhikṣu king, after all, is also the lord of this land, it is the proper duty of this humble deity to take note of his plight. But the monster-spirit has vast magic powers; once I betray his secret, he will come and oppress me. That’s why he has not been brought to justice. Now that the Great Sage has arrived, all you need do is to go up to a willow tree with nine branches at the south bank of the brook. Circle around the trunk three times from left to right and then three more times from right to left. Lean on the trunk with both hands and call three times, ‘Open the door.’ The Pure Florescence Cave will appear.”

On hearing this, the Great Sage dismissed the local spirit before leaping over the brook with Eight Rules to continue their search. Soon they found the tree, which had indeed nine stems forking out from a single trunk. Pilgrim gave this instruction to Eight Rules: “Stand still at a distance, and let me call the door open. When I find the fiend and chase him out here, you may back me up.” Eight Rules agreed and stood about a quarter mile away.

Following the words of the local spirit, our Great Sage circled the trunk three times from left to right and three times right to left; leaning with both hands on the tree, he cried, “Open the door! Open the door! Open the door!” Instantly two leaves of a door opened with a loud creak while the tree vanished entirely from sight. The inside was lit up by bright, luminous mists, but again there was no hint of any human inhabitant. Rousing his magic powers, Pilgrim dashed into the cave, and he discovered a nice place indeed:

Mist and smoke luminous;

Oblique rays of the sun and moon;

White clouds that often leave the cave;

Green moss that densely coats the yard.

A pathful of strange blossoms vying for glamour;

A stepful of rare grasses most luxuriant.

Warm, temperate air

Makes perpetual spring.

The place seems like Langyuan;⁵

It’s no worse than Peng and Ying.⁶

Long creepers spread o’er smooth benches;

Tousled vines dangle from a flat bridge.

Bees, red stamens in their mouths, come to the cave;

Butterflies, playing with orchids, pass a rock screen.

With big strides, Pilgrim dashed forward to take a careful look, and he saw four big words etched on the rock screen: Pure Florescence Immortal Residence. Unable to restrain himself, he leaped around the screen to look further, and there he saw the old fiend hugging a beautiful girl to his bosom. Both panting hard, they were in the midst of discussing the affairs of the Bhikṣu Kingdom. “What a marvelous opportunity!” they said together. “Something we’ve been planning for three years, and it would have been completed today. But it’s ruined by that ape-head now!”

Darting up to them, Pilgrim whipped out his rod and cried, “You bunch of hairy lumps! What marvelous opportunity? Have a taste of my rod!” Abandoning his beauty, the old fiend picked up his coiled-dragon staff hurriedly to meet him. The two of them began another fierce battle in front of the cave that was quite different from the one before.

The upraised rod beamed golden light;

The wielded staff belched viciousness.

The fiend said, “You fool! How dare you barge inside my door?”

Pilgrim said, “I intend to subdue a fiend!”

The fiend said, “My tie to the king’s not your concern.

For what reason must you come oppress me?”

Pilgrim said, “The priest’s vocation is on mercy based.

We can’t bear seeing young boys put to death.”

Their words went back and forth, each full of hate.

The staff met the rod, they aimed at the heart.

They snapped strange flowers, watching for their lives;

They kicked up lichens as they slipped and slid.

They fought till the cave’s bright mists had lost their glow,

Till the ledge’s fine blossoms all collapsed.

The bing-bangs grounded the birds in fear;

Their shoutings scared the beauty into flight.

Only the old fiend and the Monkey King remained

As violent gusts of wind howled through the earth.

They fought on and on till they left the cave,

When Wuneng aroused his moronic might.

Eight Rules, you see, was standing outside; when he heard them brawling inside, he became so excited that he could hardly contain himself. Whipping out his muckrake, he knocked down the willow tree with nine branches with one terrific blow. As he raked the fallen trunk some more, fresh blood sprouted from the root and it emitted a sort of moaning sound. “This tree has become a spirit!” said Eight Rules. “This tree has become a spirit!”

He lifted his rake and was about to bring it down again when he saw Pilgrim emerging with the fiend. Without a word our Idiot rushed forward and attacked with the rake. The old fiend was already finding it difficult to withstand Pilgrim; the sight of Eight Rules’s rake, therefore, completely unnerved him. Turning to flee, he shook his body once and changed into a cold beam of light to head for the east. Unwilling to let up at all, the two of them instantly gave chase.

As they shouted to close in for the kill, they suddenly heard the calls of phoenix and crane and saw the glow of auspicious luminosity. Then they caught sight of the Aged Star of South Pole, who had held down the cold beam of light. “Slow down, Great Sage,” he cried, “and stop chasing, Heavenly Reeds. This old Daoist salutes you!”

“Brother Aged Star,” said Pilgrim, returning his greeting, “where have you come from?” With a chuckle, Eight Rules said, “You blubbery codger! Since you’ve held down the cold beam of light, you must have caught the fiend.” “He’s here, he’s here,” replied the Aged Star, smiling back at him. “I hope the two of you will spare his life.”

“That old fiend’s not related to you, old Brother,” said Pilgrim. “Why are you speaking up for him?”

“He happens to be my beast of burden,” replied the Aged Star with a smile, “and sneaked here to turn into a fiend.” “If he’s a creature of yours,” said Pilgrim, “ask him to change back to his true form for us to see.”

When he heard this, the Aged Star released the cold beam of light and shouted, “Cursed beast! Show your true form quickly, and we’ll pardon your mortal offense!” Rolling over, the fiend at once revealed himself as a white deer. “This cursed beast!” said the Aged Star as he picked up the staff. “He has even managed to steal my staff!” Prostrate on the ground, the white deer could not utter a word; all he did was kowtow and shed tears. You see

His whole body striped like a token of jade,

Two upthrust horns like seven jagged blades.

In hunger he would the herb garden seek

And drink, in thirst, from the cloud-swollen creek.

Aged, he had the pow’r of flight attained,

And o’er the years a face that changed he gained.

When he at this time hears his master’s call,

He’ll show his form and in submission fall.

After the Aged Star had thanked Pilgrim, he mounted the deer to leave, only to be grabbed by Pilgrim. “Old Brother,” he said, “please don’t leave yet. There are two unfinished matters.”

“What sort of unfinished matters?” asked the Aged Star, and Pilgrim said, “We have yet to catch the beautiful girl, who must be some kind of fiendish creature, and we must return together to report to that befuddled ruler of the Bhikṣu kingdom.”

“If you put it that way,” said the Aged Star, “I’ll be patient and wait a while. You and Heavenly Reeds go inside the cave and capture the beautiful girl. Then we can go together to let the king see these creatures in their true forms.” “Just wait a moment, old Brother,” said Pilgrim, “we’ll be back soon.”

Arousing his spirit, Eight Rules followed Pilgrim into the Pure Florescence Divine Residence, both shouting, “Catch the monster-spirit! Catch the monster-spirit!” The beautiful girl was still shaking so violently that she could hardly think of fleeing; when she heard the shouts, she dashed behind the rock screen, but there was no back door for her to leave through. “Where are you going?” roared Eight Rules. “Watch my rake, you stinking, man-deceiving spirit!” As the beautiful girl did not even have a weapon in her hand, she could only step aside and change at once into a cold beam of light to try to flee. She was, however, met by the Great Sage, who slammed his rod down hard on the beam. Immediately the fiend tumbled to the ground and revealed her true form: that of a white-faced vixen. Unable to hold back his hands, our Idiot raised his rake and gave her head a terrific blow. Alas!

The smile that shakes a city and a state

Into a hairy, lumpish fox is made!

“Don’t mash her up!” cried Pilgrim. “Leave her body for that befuddled ruler to see.”

Not bothered by the filth, our Idiot took her by the tail and yanked her body along to follow Pilgrim out the door. The Aged Star at that moment was just rubbing the deer’s head and scolding him. “Dear cursed beast!” he cried. “How could you turn your back on your master and come here to be a spirit? If I hadn’t arrived, you would have been struck to death by the Great Sage Sun.”

“What are you saying, old Brother?” asked Pilgrim as he bounded out. “Just instructing the deer! Just instructing the deer!” replied the Aged Star. Throwing the dead vixen in front of the deer, Eight Rules asked, “Is this your daughter?” Nodding his head a few times, the deer stretched out his muzzle to sniff her and bleated several times, as if he could not bear parting with the vixen. He was given a whack on the head by the Aged Star, who said, “Cursed beast! Isn’t it enough that you got your life? Why smell her?” He then untied the sash of his robe and fastened it around the neck of the deer to drag him along. “Great Sage,” he said, “I’ll go see the Bhikṣu king with you.” “Just a moment!” replied Pilgrim. “We might as well clean out the inside first, so that this place will not breed any more monstrosity in the years to come.” When he heard this, Eight Rules lifted up his rake and showered blows on the willow trunk. Pilgrim recited again the magic word Oṁ to summon the local spirit, to whom he gave this instruction: “Find me some dried wood and make a good fire. I am trying to rid this place of monstrous calamity, so that you may be spared from any further oppression.” Turning round, the local spirit mounted gusts of cold winds with his ghostly troops to gather some frost-receiving grass, autumn-green grass, smartweeds, mountain-bud grass, dried southernwood, dried dragon-bones, and dried rushes—all withered plants that had been parched for more than a year and that could feed a fire like oil or fat. “Eight Rules,” Pilgrim cried, “no need to take the tree. Just stuff these things into the cave and light the fire. We’ll destroy the place.” As soon as the fire started, it did indeed turn the Pure Florescence monster residence into a flaming pit.

He then dismissed the local spirit before returning to face the king in the royal hall, accompanied by the Aged Star leading the deer and Eight Rules dragging the dead vixen. Pilgrim said to the king, “Here’s your Queen Beauty! You want to dally with her some more?” The bladder of the king quivered and his heart shook, and then his queens and consorts were all frightened into bowing by the sight of the Aged Star leading the white deer. Pilgrim went forward to raise up the king, saying to him with a chuckle, “Don’t bow to me. Here’s your father-in-law. You should bow to him!”

Terribly embarrassed, the king could only murmur, “I thank the divine monk’s Heavenly grace for saving the boys of my nation.” He at once ordered the Court of Imperial Entertainments to prepare a huge vegetarian banquet. The East Hall was opened wide so that the Old Man of South Pole, the Tang Monk, and his three disciples could be seated to receive proper thanks. After Tripitaka and Sha Monk bowed to greet the Aged Star, they both asked, “If the white deer belonged to the Venerable Aged Star, how could it get here to harm people?”

The Aged Star answered, smiling, “Sometime ago the Supreme Ruler of the East⁷ passed by my mountain, and I asked him to stay for chess. Hardly had we finished one game when this cursed beast ran away. When we couldn’t find him after the guest’s departure, I calculated by bending my fingers and realized that he had come to this place. I came to search for him and ran into the Great Sage just in the process of demonstrating his power. If I had come a little later, this beast would have been finished.” Hardly had he spoken when the report came that the banquet was ready. Marvelous vegetarian banquet!

The doorways decked with five colors;

The seats full of strange fragrance;

Tables draped with glowing brocade damask;

Floors spread with luminous red carpets.

From duck-shaped urns

Curled smoke of sandalwood incense;

Before the royal table

Came the fresh scent of vegetables.

Look at the fruit crouque-en-bouche on the dish,

The sweet pastries shaped like dragons or beasts.

Mandarin-duck cakes

And lion candies

All looked so real;

The parrot goblet

And the egret handle

All seemed lifelike.

Every fruit item on display was rich;

Every maigre dish on the table was fine.

Robustly round chestnuts,

Fresh lychees and peaches;

Dates and persimmons with the sweetest flavor;

Pine-seed and grape wines of the mellowest scent.

Several kinds of honey-glazed food

And a few steamed pastries.

Viands deep-fried or sugar-coated,

Made like blossoms or brocade.

Huge buns piled high on golden trays;

Fragrant rice filled many silver bowls.

Hot and spicy—the long rice noodles cooked in soup;

Potently scented—one bowl or dish after another.

You could not describe all the mushrooms,

The wood ears, the tender shoots, the Yellow Sperms;

Vegetables of ten varieties

And a hundred rare delicacies.

Presented back and forth without a pause

Were all kinds, all species of rich fare.

At the time, they took their seats according to rank: the Aged Star occupied the head table, while the elder remained next to him. The king went to the table in front, and Pilgrim, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk sat on one side. There were three other chief ministers on both sides to keep them company. As the Office of Music was told to begin the serenade, the king held up his purple-mist cup to toast each person in turn, though the Tang Monk was the only one who did not drink. Eight Rules then said to Pilgrim, “Elder Brother, I’ll leave the fruits to you, but you must let us enjoy rice, soup, and the rest.” Without regard for good or ill, that Idiot attacked the foodstuff madly and ate it up in no time at all.

After the banquet was over, the Aged Star got up to leave, but the king went forward to kneel to him to beg for a method that would eliminate illness and lengthen his years. With a smile the Aged Star said, “I was looking for my deer and I didn’t bring along any elixir or herbs. I would have liked to impart to you the formula for cultivation, but your tendons have so deteriorated and your spirit has been so impaired that it would be impossible for you to accomplish the reversion of the elixir.⁸ In my sleeve here, however, are three fire dates which were the presents of the Supreme Ruler of the East for my tea. I haven’t eaten them yet, and I would like to give them to you now.” After the king had swallowed the dates, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted gradually from his body as his illness receded. In fact, the longevity those descendants of his later attained might be traced to this.

When Eight Rules saw that the king had received such a gift, he cried out, “Old Age, if you have any more fire dates, give me some, too.” “I haven’t brought any more along,” replied the Aged Star. “Another day I’ll send you a few pounds.” He walked out of the East Hall, and having thanked his host once more, he ordered the white deer to stand up and leaped onto its back. They both rose immediately into the air and left treading on the clouds. The ruler, his consorts, and the populace of the city all bowed to the ground and burned incense.

Then Tripitaka said, “Disciples, start packing so that we may take leave of the king.” The king, however, begged them to stay and instruct him. “Your Majesty,” said Pilgrim, “from now on you must lessen your sensual pursuits and increase instead your unpublicized good deeds. In all affairs you should allow your strength to compensate for your weakness, and you will find that this is quite sufficient to stave off sickness and lengthen your life. Such is the instruction I have for you.” Thereafter the king also presented them with two trays of gold and silver pieces as travel money, but the Tang Monk refused to accept even a penny. The king had no alternative but to send for his imperial cortege and asked the Tang Monk to be seated on the phoenix carriage in the dragon chariot. He and his consorts all put their hands on the carriage and pushed it out of the court. At the same time, all the main boulevards were lined with citizens who added pure water to their sacrificial vases and true incense in the urns to send the pilgrims out of the city.

Just then, a roar of the wind from midair brought down to both sides of the road one thousand, one hundred and eleven geese coops with some crying young boys inside. The local spirit, city god, god of the soil, immortal officials, the Guardians of Five Quarters, the Four Sentinels, the Six Gods of Darkness and Six Gods of Light, and the guardians of monasteries who gave secret protection to the children all announced in a loud voice: “Great Sage, you told us previously to take away these boys in the geese coops. Now that your merit has been achieved and you are about to leave, we have brought them back one by one.” The king, the queens, and all the citizens bowed down as Pilgrim said to the air, “I thank you all for your help. Please return to your shrines, and I will ask the people to offer you their thanksgiving sacrifices.” Sighing and soughing, the gust of cold wind rose once more and then quickly subsided.

When Pilgrim then asked the households of the city to come retrieve their children, the news was spread abroad at once and all the people came to identify and claim the boys in the coops. In great delight they were lifted out of the cages, hugged, and addressed as “darling” and “precious.” Jumping about and laughing, the people all shouted, “We must take hold of the Holy Fathers of the Tang court and bring them back to our homes. We must thank them for this profound act of kindness!” And so the people went forward, young and old, male and female, without the slightest fear of how ugly the pilgrims might look: they hauled Zhu Eight Rules up bodily, they put Sha Monk on their shoulders, they supported the Great Sage Sun with their heads, and they lifted up Tripitaka with their hands. Leading the horse and toting the luggage, they surged back to the city; not even the king could restrain them.

While one family gave a banquet, another prepared a feast; those who did not have time to take their turns made priestly caps and sandals, clerical robes and cloth stockings, and all manner of inner and outer garments to be presented as gifts. Indeed, the pilgrims had to linger for nearly a month in that city before they could leave. Before their departure, the people also made portraits of them, with their names inscribed on plaques below the pictures, so that perpetual sacrifices and incense could be offered. Truly it was that

This secret good deed weighty as a mount

Has saved a hundred and a thousand lives.

We do not know what happened thereafter; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.