SEVENTY-ONE

By a false name Pilgrim defeats the fiendish wolf;
In epiphany Guanyin subdues the monster-king.

Form’s emptiness, that’s ancient truth;

Emptiness, too, is so-called form.

If one fully knows Chan’s emptiness-form,

Who needs cinnabar ground and burnt?

Don’t slack in work on virtue and act;

Your labor requires bitter toil.

You will face Heaven when merit’s fulfilled

With godly features e’er preserved.¹

We tell you now about that Jupiter’s Rival, who ordered all the front and back doors tightly shut in order to search for Pilgrim. All the commotion lasted until dusk, but not a trace of the intruder could be found. Taking a seat in the Skinning Pavilion, the fiend king assembled the rest of the fiends and gave the order that guards were to be posted at all the doors, holding handbells and shouting passwords, beating drums and rattles. Every one of them was to put the arrow to the bow and go on patrol through the night with drawn swords. However, the Great Sage Sun, you see, had changed into a tiny fly and alighted on a doorpost. When he saw that the front was tightly guarded, he spread his wings and flew instead into the rear palace, where he found the Lady Golden Sage slumped on a table.

In clear drops the tears rolled down;

In low tones she voiced her grief.

Flying through the door, Pilgrim gently landed on her disheveled black tresses to listen to how she was weeping. In a little while, the lady suddenly cried out, “O, my lord! You and I must have burned

The broken-head incense² in our former lives,

So that we meet in this one a fiend king.

Parted for three years, which day will we meet?

Stranded at two places—that is our grief.

The elder you sent has just conveyed the news;

Our union’s thwarted when he lost his life.

Since it’s hard to untie the bells of gold,

Our longings are keener than those of old.”

When Pilgrim heard this, he moved up to the base of her ear and whispered, “Lady Sage Palace, I’m Elder Sun, the divine monk sent here by your country, and I haven’t lost my life. What happened had to do with my impetuousness. When you were drinking with the fiend king, I approached the dresser and stole the golden bells. I managed to slip out to the pavilion in front, but I couldn’t resist untying the wrap to take a look. Little did I realize that when I pulled out the cotton stuffed in the bells, smoke, fire, and yellow sand would pour out all at once with a clang. I was so flustered that I dropped the bells and changed back into my original form. I wielded my iron rod to wage a bitter battle, but when I couldn’t break free, I feared that I might be harmed. That was why I changed into a tiny fly to fly up to a doorpost and hide until now. Now the fiend king is guarding the place more tightly than ever and refuses to open the doors. You must, therefore, trick him, in the name of conjugal duties, into coming in here to rest. Then I’ll be able to escape and make another plan to rescue you.” The moment the lady heard these words,

She shook all over

As if gods were pulling her hair;

Weak and fearful,

She felt her heart thump and pound.

“Are you,” she asked tearfully, “a ghost or a human being?” “I’m neither a human,” replied Pilgrim, “nor am I a ghost. At the moment, I have changed into a tiny fly here. Don’t be afraid. Go quickly and invite the fiend king to come.” The lady refused to believe him. Shedding tears, she said softly, “You’re not trying to bewitch me?” “Why would I want to bewitch you?” said Pilgrim. “If you don’t believe me, spread open your palm and I’ll land on it for you to see.”

The lady indeed stretched forth her left palm, and Pilgrim gently alighted on her lovely hand. How he seemed like

A black pea nailed to the lotus bud;

A bee resting on peony flower;

A grape having landed on silk brocade;

A thick black dot by the lily branch!

Holding high her jadelike hand, the Golden Sage Palace uttered the cry, “Divine monk!” “I’m the transformation of the divine monk,” answered Pilgrim with a buzz. Only then did the lady believe him.

“When I manage to get that fiend king here,” she whispered to him, “how will you proceed?” Pilgrim said, “As one ancient person put the matter,

To ruin one’s whole life there’s only wine.

And he also said,

To break up all cares there’s nothing like wine.³

There are many uses for wine, and so the best thing you can do is still to make him drink. Summon now one of the maids closest to you and point her out to me. I’ll change into her appearance and serve you by your side. When there’s a chance, I’ll act.”

The lady indeed agreed, and she called out, “Spring Grace, where are you?” From behind a screen stepped forth a white-faced vixen, who knelt down and said, “Madam, what is your pleasure?” “Tell the rest of the maids,” replied the lady, “to light up gauze lanterns, burn the musk-gland, and accompany me to the front court to ask the king to retire.” Spring Grace at once went out to summon seven or eight deer fiends and vixen spirits, who came in with a pair of lanterns and a pair of portable urns. They stood on both sides of the lady, who arose with hands folded while the Great Sage soared into the air.

Dear Pilgrim! Spreading his wings, he headed straight for the head of the white-faced vixen. There he pulled off one piece of hair and blew a mouthful of immortal breath on it, crying, “Change!” It changed at once into a sleep-inducing insect, which he gently placed on her face. The moment that this insect reaches a person’s face, you see, it will crawl toward one’s nostril, and when it gets inside, the person will fall asleep. Our Spring Grace, therefore, gradually felt so fatigued that she could hardly remain on her feet. Rocking from side to side and nodding her head, she ran back to her previous resting place, laid down her head, and snored away. Pilgrim flew down and with one shake of his body changed into the form of Spring Grace. He walked out from behind the screen to stand at attention with the rest of the maids, and we shall leave them there for the moment.

We tell you now about that Lady Golden Sage Palace, who was walking out to the front. When the little fiends saw her, they immediately reported to Jupiter’s Rival: “Great King, Madam has arrived.” The fiend hurried out of the Skinning Pavilion to meet her. “Great King,” said the lady, “the smoke and the fire have subsided, and the thief, too, has vanished. The night is deep, and I have come especially to ask you to retire.”

Highly pleased, the fiend said, “Madam, please take care of yourself. Just now that thief was actually sun Wukong, who, having overcome my vanguard and slain my trust junior officer, came in here by means of transformation in order to deceive us. We have conducted a most careful search, but there’s not a trace of him. This is why I feel quite uneasy about the matter.” “That fellow must have escaped,” said the lady. “You should not worry anymore, Great King. Let’s retire and rest.”

When the monster-spirit saw the lady standing there with this earnest invitation, he dared not refuse. After he had given the order to the rest of the fiends to be careful with the torches and candles and to look out for thieves and robbers, he went back to the rear palace with the lady. Pilgrim, who had changed into the form of Spring Grace, was led inside also along with the two rows of maids. “Prepare us some wine,” cried the lady, “so that we may relieve the great king of his weariness.” “Exactly! Exactly!” said the fiend king, laughing. “Bring us wine quickly. I will help the dear lady to calm her fears.”

The specious Spring Grace and other fiends thereupon brought out some bowls of fruit and several dishes of game as they set up tables and chairs. The lady picked up a goblet, and the fiend king also presented her with a goblet. After the two of them had exchanged their cups, the specious Spring Grace picked up the wine pot on the side and said, “Since the great king and madam did not exchange their cups until this very night, you should drain the cups so that I can pour you a Double Happiness round.” They did so; again their cups were filled, and they drank that, too.

The specious Spring Grace spoke up once more: “This is such a happy meeting between the great king and madam! Let those maids who can sing sing, and those who can dance dance!” Hardly had he finished speaking when the entire hall was filled with the sound of songs and harmonious melodies; those who could dance did dance, and those who could sing did sing, as the two of them drank a good deal more wine. Then the lady stopped the song and dance, and all the maids were again divided into two choirs to leave and stand beyond the screen. Only the specious Spring Grace stayed behind to pour the wine back and forth. The lady did nothing but engage in conjugal talk with the fiend king. Look at her! She displayed such sultry looks and amorous charms that the fiend king went limp with desire. But he simply had no luck in touching her. What a pity! Truly, he felt like “a cat biting on a urine bubble—all empty delight!”

After they flirted for a while and laughed for awhile, the lady asked, “Great King, were the treasures damaged?” “These treasures,” replied the fiend king, “had been forged by the elemental powers of nature. How could they be damaged? When the thief pulled out the cotton, however, the leopard-skin wrap was burned.” “How did you pack them up again?” asked the lady. The fiend king said, “No need to do that, for I’ve tied them again to my waist.”

On hearing this, the specious Spring Grace pulled off a handful of hair, which he chewed to pieces. He quietly approached the fiend king and placed these pieces of hair on his body. Blowing three mouthfuls of immortal breath on them, he whispered, “Change!”, and at once they became three kinds of vicious thing: lice, fleas, and bedbugs. They penetrated the fiend king’s garments and began to bite him madly. Ridden by unbearable itch, that fiend king put his hands inside his bosom to rub and scratch himself. When his fingers caught hold of several of the lice, he took them up to the lamps to have a closer look. When she saw the insects, the lady said wistfully, “Great King, your undergarments must have been soiled, I suppose. They haven’t been washed for a long time, and that’s why these things are growing on you.”

Terribly embarrassed, the fiend king said, “I have never had these things grow on me before. Why does it have to be this very night that I disgrace myself?” Laughing, the lady said, “There’s no disgrace! As the proverb says, ‘Even an emperor’s body may have three lice!’ Take off your clothes, and I’ll try to catch some of them for you.” The fiend king indeed began to loosen his belt and his clothes.

On one side the specious Spring Grace stared at the fiend king’s body: on every layer of his clothing fleas were hopping about, and every garment had rows of big bedbugs. Those lice, big and small, were so thick that they resembled ants pouring out of their hills! By the time the third layer of clothing was hitched up, one could see countless insects swarming all over the golden bells. The specious Spring Grace said, “Great King, give me the bells, so that I, too, can catch some lice for you.”

The fiend king was both so embarrassed and frightened that he could not tell the true from the false. He handed over the bells, and the specious Spring Grace took them over and played with them for a long time in his hands. When he saw the fiend king lower his head to shake his clothing, he immediately hid the bells. Pulling off three strands of hair, he changed them into three exact copies of the golden bells, which he deliberately turned over and examined before the lamps. Then, as he swayed and wriggled here and there, he shook his body slightly and at once retrieved all those lice, fleas, and bedbugs. The specious golden bells were returned to the fiend, who, when he took them in his hands, was more unperceiving than ever. Unable to tell the difference at all, he held up the bells with both hands and presented them to the lady, saying, “This time you put them away most carefully, so that nothing like last time will happen again.”

The lady gently opened her garment trunk, put the specious bells inside, and bolted the trunk with a lock of yellow gold. After she drank a few more cups of wine with the fiend king, she gave this order to her maids: “Brush clean our ivory bed and roll down the silk coverlets. I’ll sleep with the great king.” “I don’t have the luck! I don’t have the luck!” said the fiend king repeatedly. “I dare not join you. Let me take a palace maiden and go to the west palace instead. Madam, please rest by yourself.” They all retired, and we shall leave them for the moment.

We tell you now about the specious Spring Grace, who succeeded in stealing the treasures. These he tied to his own waist before he changed into his original form. With a shake of his body he retrieved also the sleep-inducing insect. As he walked along, he heard the sound of rattle and gong announcing the hour of the third watch. Dear Pilgrim! Making the magic sign with his fingers, he recited a spell and exercised the Magic of Body Concealment to reach the front door. When he saw, however, that it was tightly bolted, he took out his golden-hooped rod and pointed it at the door; this Lock-Opening Magic immediately flung wide the door and he strode out quickly. “Jupiter’s Rival,” he cried with a loud voice as he stood before the door, “return my Lady Golden Sage!”

He yelled for two or three times, and all the fiends, old and young, were aroused. They dashed out to look around and found the front door ajar. As some of them brought the lamps over to have the door locked up once more, a few of the fiends ran inside to report, “Great King, someone outside our main door is addressing you by name and demanding the return of Lady Golden Sage!” The maids inside slipped out of the palace door and whispered, “Don’t shout! The great king has just fallen asleep.” Meanwhile, Pilgrim yelled some more in front of the main door, but those little fiends dared not go disturb the fiend king. Three or four times it went on like this, but they did not report the disturbance. Outside the cave-dwelling, the Great Sage brawled until dawn, and he was unable to control himself any longer. Wielding the iron rod with both hands, he went forward and smote the door. Those various fiends were terrified; while some of them pushed against the door, others ran inside to report. Having just awakened, the fiend king heard a raucous tumult. He dressed hurriedly and emerged from the silk curtains to ask, “What’s all this noise?” The maids knelt down and said, “Father, we don’t know who it was who shouted abuses at us for half the night outside. Now he is even striking at the door.”

As the fiend king walked out of the palace door, he ran into several little fiends, who kowtowed rather timidly and said, “Someone outside is shouting abuses and demanding the Lady Golden Sage Palace! When we said ‘No’ to him, he spewed out countless insults, simply awful stuff. When he saw that the great king did not go out even at daybreak, he began to strike at our door.” “Don’t open it yet,” said the fiend. “Go and ask for his name and where he came from. Hurry back to report to me.”

One of the little fiends ran out and asked through the door, “Who is here striking at our door?” Pilgrim replied, “I’m External Grandpa [Waigong]⁴ sent here by the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom to take Lady Sage Palace back to her own country!” When the little fiend heard this, he returned with these words as his report and the fiend king set out for the rear palace to make further investigation of his intruder. The lady, you see, had just risen, and she had not yet washed or had her hair combed when her maid said, “Father is here.” Tidying her clothes hurriedly but leaving her hair unpinned, the lady met him outside the palace. After they took their seats and before she could even ask why the fiend king had come in, another little fiend dashed in to report: “That External Grandpa has smashed our door!”

With a laugh, the fiend said, “Madam, how many generals and commanders do you have at court?” The lady said, “We have forty-eight Brigades⁵ and a thousand fine generals. At the various borders, there are countless marshals and commanders.” “Is there someone with the surname of External?” asked the fiend king.

“Inside the palace,” replied the lady, “all I knew was how to assist the ruler by giving admonitions and supervision to the palace ladies night and day. The external affairs are endless. How could I remember any name or surname?”

The fiend king said, “Our visitor calls himself External Grandpa, but no such surname, I’m sure, appears in the Hundred Family Names. Since you have come from an aristocratic family and you are so intelligent by nature, you must have read all kinds of books and chronicles when you were at the royal palace. Do you remember whether this surname has appeared in any text at all?” “Only in the Thousand-Character Treatise”⁶ replied the lady, “there is the phrase, ‘Externally one learns from the tutor’s instruction.’⁷ I suppose that must be it.”

Delighted, the fiend king said, “Indeed, it is! Indeed, it is!” He rose and took leave of the lady to go to the Skinning Pavilion. After he had suited up his armor properly, he summoned his fiendish troops and went straight out the front door, his hands holding a spreading-flower ax. “Who is the External Grandpa who comes from the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom?” he cried in a loud voice.

Gripping the golden-hooped rod with his right hand, Pilgrim pointed with his left hand at the fiend king and said, “Worthy nephew, why are you addressing me?” When the fiend king saw him, he was filled with anger. “Look at you!” he bellowed,

Your features are an ape’s;

Your looks are a monkey’s.

Seven percent a ghost,

And yet you dare mock me?

“Lawless fiend,” replied Pilgrim with a laugh, “you are the one insulting Heaven and making a mockery of the ruler! And you have no eyes either! When I caused great disturbance in the Celestial Palace five hundred years ago, all those divine warriors of the Ninefold Heaven wouldn’t have dared address me without the word ‘Venerable’ when they saw me. Now you call me your grandpa. Is that too much of a loss for you?”

“Tell me quickly your name and surname,” snapped the fiend king, “and what sort of martial art you have learned that you dare act with such insolence around here.” Pilgrim said, “You’d have been better if you hadn’t asked about that. For when I announce my name and surname, I fear that you wouldn’t know where to stand! Step closer, stand firmly, and listen to my recital:

My parents who begot me were Heav’n and Earth;

The sun and moon’s essence had me conceived

And carried in a stone for countless years.

A spirit root formed and nursed me—O, how strange!

As spring quickened nature, I was born that year.

Today I’m an immortal for all times.

Once a captain of many gathered fiends,

I made monsters bow before the red cliffs.

A summons issued the Great Emperor Jade;

The Gold Star Venus with a decree came

To ask me to hold an office in Heav’n,

But I was not pleased with BanHorse, the rank.

I plotted at first rebellion at my cave;

Then I disturbed with arms the royal court.

Deva Pagoda-Bearer and his prince

Both shrank back in terror after our fight.

Gold Star addressed the Cosmic King again

Who sent next a pacifying decree

To make me Equal to Heav’n, true Great Sage—

A proper name for fine talent of the state.

Because I disturbed, too, the Peaches Feast,

Wrath I incurred when I stole pills, half-drunk,

Laozi himself before the throne appeared;

The West Queen Mother at Jade Terrace bowed.

Learning that I had mocked the laws of kings,

Soldiers they called up and dispatches sent—

A hundred thousand savage planetoids,

And dense rows of halberds, lances, and swords.

As cosmic nets were spread throughout the mount,

We raised up our arms for a mighty meet.

The fight was fierce but neither side could win,

And Erlang arrived on Guanyin’s advice.

To find out who was stronger we two fought,

Though he had the Plum Mountain Brothers’ aid.

As we transformed ourselves to show our strength,

Three sages in Heaven pushed the clouds aside:

Laozi at once threw his diamond snare down,

The gods caught and brought me to the steps of gold.

A lengthy confession I need not make;

I should be hacked to pieces for my crimes.

Axes and mallets could not take my life,

Nor was I harmed by scimitars and swords.

Fire and thunder could only do so much—

They could not hurt longevity’s offspring.

They sent the captive to Tushita then

To be refined in all ways as they wished.

Not till the right time was the tripod opened,

But I from the center at once leaped out;

My hands holding high the compliant rod,

I fought my way to Jade Dragon Terrace.

Into hiding went each planet and star;

I was free to havoc through Heaven’s halls.

Lord Inspector quickly sought the Buddha’s help;

With me Śākyamuni a contest waged.

I, somersaulting from within his palm,

Did tour all Heavens before turning back.

The Buddha deceived me, foreknowing this;

I was pinned down by him at Heaven’s edge

Till now afterwards some five hundred years.

My lowly self freed, I frolic once more.

To guard the Tang Monk going to the West—

This, Wukong the Pilgrim well understands.

He must on the western path the fiends subdue.

Which monster would dare not to fear him?”

When the fiend king heard the announcement of Wukong, the Pilgrim, he said, “So you’re that fellow who caused great disturbance at the Celestial Palace! If you have been released to accompany the Tang Monk to the West, you should simply stay on your journey. Why must you mind someone’s business? Why must you serve the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom as a slave and come here to look for death?”

“You thief! You lawless fiend!” shouted Pilgrim. “You mouth such words of ignorance! I receive the most reverent invitation from the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom, and I am beholden to the king’s most gracious hospitality. Old Monkey is regarded there as being a thousand times more exalted than the throne, who honors me as his parents and reveres me as a god. How dare you mention the word ‘slave’? You are but a fiend who lies to Heaven and makes a mockery of the ruler! Don’t run away! Have a taste of your grandpa’s rod!” A little flustered, the fiend jumped aside to dodge the blow before wielding the spreading-flower ax to strike at his opponent’s face. This was a marvelous battle! Take a look!

The golden-hooped compliant rod,

The sharp spreading-flower ax.

One clenched his teeth as he turned violent;

One gritted them as he showed his strength.

This one was the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, descending to Earth;

That one was a mischievous fiend king coming to the world.

The two of them belched out cloud and fog to darken Heaven;

They kicked up rocks and sand to hide the dipper halls.

Back and forth they went through many styles;

Up and down they emitted golden lights.

Together they used their power,

Each testing his magic might.

This one wanted to take the lady to the capital;

That one enjoyed staying with the queen at the mount.

This whole battle truly had no other cause:

For a king each had life and death forgot!

The two of them battled for fifty rounds, but no decision could be reached. When the fiend king saw how powerful Pilgrim was, he knew that he could not prevail against him. Using the ax to stop the iron rod, he said, “Pilgrim Sun, let’s pause for a moment. I haven’t had my breakfast today. Let me take my meal first, and then I’ll come to fight to the finish with you.” Pilgrim realized that he wanted to get the bells, but he put away his iron rod and said, “‘A good hunter doesn’t run down a tired hare!’ Go! Go! Eat heartily, and return to receive your death!”

Turning around, the fiend dashed inside and said to the lady, “Take out the treasures quickly.” “What for?” she asked. “The person who was shouting to provoke battle this morning,” replied the fiend king, “happened to be the disciple of a priest on his way to acquire scriptures. His name is Sun Wukong, the Pilgrim, and ‘External Grandpa’ is only a false name. I fought with him for a long time but I could not prevail against him. Let me take my treasures out there so I can start a fire to burn this ape.”

The lady was quite dismayed by what she heard. She did not want to take out the bells, but she was afraid to offend him; if she took them out, however, she feared that Pilgrim might lose his life. As she hesitated, the fiend king again urged her, saying, “Take them out quickly!” The lady had no alternative but to open the lock and hand the three bells over to the fiend king, who grabbed them and ran outside the cave. As tears poured down her face, the lady sat down in the palace, wondering whether Pilgrim could escape with his life. Neither she nor the fiend king, you see, knew that these were specious bells.

As soon as he got outside, the fiend king stood at the upper hand spot of the wind. “Pilgrim Sun,” he cried out, “don’t run away! Watch me shake my bells a little!”

With a laugh, Pilgrim replied, “If you have bells, you think I have none? If you can shake them, you think I can’t shake them?” “What sort of bells do you have?” said the fiend king. “Take them out for me to see.” Pilgrim gave his iron rod a pinch to reduce it to the size of an embroidery needle, which he stored in his ear. Then he untied from his waist those three true treasures and said to the fiend king, “Aren’t these my purple-gold bells?”

Greatly startled by what he saw, the fiend king said to himself, “Odd! Very odd! How could his bells be exactly like mine? Even if they were cast in the same mold, there ought to be some mark here or a blemish there. How could they be exactly alike?” He therefore asked, “Where did your bells come from?” “Worthy nephew,” said Pilgrim, “where did yours come from?”

An honest person, the fiend king said right away, “My bells belonged originally to

Lord Grand Purity, most steeped in the Way.

In eight-trigram stove gold with a long stay

Did forge these bells now called perfected gems

And left behind by Laozi till this day.”

Laughing, Pilgrim said, “Well, the bells of old Monkey also come from that time.” “Where did they come from?” asked the fiend king. Pilgrim said,

In Tushita Hall the Dao Patriarch hale

Had his stove forged these gold bells without fail.

Two threes are six—cyclic treasures they are:

My bells are female whereas yours are male.

“These bells,” said the fiend king, “are treasures forged in the same process as that of the golden elixir. They are not fowl or beasts. How could you use sex to distinguish them? If you can shake something valuable out of them, then they are good treasures.” “It’s useless to talk,” replied Pilgrim, “when only action’s the proof. I’ll let you shake them first.”

The fiend king indeed shook the first bell three times, but no fire came out; he shook the second bell three times, but no smoke came out; and he shook the third bell three times, but no sand came out. Terribly flustered, the fiend king said, “How strange! How strange! The ways of the world have changed! These must be hen-pecked bells! The male sees the female, and that’s why nothing comes out!”

“Stop shaking, worthy nephew!” said Pilgrim. “Let me shake mine for you to see.” Marvelous monkey! He grasped the three bells in his hand and shook them altogether. Just look at the red fire, green smoke, and yellow sand! They poured out together and began at once to engulf the mountain and trees. The Great Sage also recited a spell and, facing the ground toward the southwest, shouted, “Come, wind!” Indeed, a strong gust whipped up the fire, and the fire exploited the power of the wind.

In flaming red

And massive black,

The sky was full of fire and smoke,

And the earth full of yellow sand.

Scared out of his wits, that Jupiter’s Rival wanted to flee but could not find a way out. For in the midst of that kind of fire, how could he possibly escape with his life?

Suddenly a loud voice came from midair: “Sun Wukong, I’ve arrived!” As he turned his head upward quickly, Pilgrim saw that it was the Bodhisattva Guanyin; her left hand was supporting the immaculate vase, while her right hand was sprinkling sweet dew with her willow twig to put out the fire. Pilgrim was so startled that he quickly tucked the bells in his waist, folded his hands before his chest, and bowed low. After the Bodhisattva had sprinkled a few drops of the sweet dew, the smoke and fire all vanished in an instant and there was not a trace of the yellow sand. Kowtowing, Pilgrim said, “I did not know the Great Compassion had descended to Earth, and I have caused offense by not avoiding your sacred presence. May I ask where the Bodhisattva is going?” “I have come,” replied the Bodhisattva, “especially to bring this fiend to submission.”

“What was this fiend’s origin,” said Pilgrim, “that it should necessitate your golden form revealing itself in order to bring him to submission?” The Bodhisattva said, “He is actually the golden-haired wolf that I ride on. Because the lad who looks after him fell asleep, this cursed beast managed to bite through the iron chains and come here to dispel calamity for the king of the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom.”

On hearing this, Pilgrim quickly bowed and said, “The Bodhisattva is twisting the truth! The fiend has mocked the ruler and cheated him of his queen here; he has corrupted the customs and violated the mores. He has, in fact, brought calamity to the ruler. How could you say that he has helped the king to dispel calamity?”

The Bodhisattva replied, “You have no idea that when the deceased king of the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom was still on the throne, the present king, then the crown-prince, was exceedingly fond of hunting when he was still young. Leading men and horses, mounting hawks and hounds, he once came before the Phoenix-Down Slope, where two young birds, one male and another female, were perching. These happened to be the off springs of the Bodhisattva Great King Peacock.⁸ When the young prince stretched his bow, he wounded the male peacock, and the female one too, returned to the West with an arrow stuck in her body. After the Buddha Mother had pardoned him, she decreed that he should be punished by being separated from his mate for three years and that his body should be inflicted with the illness of yearning. At the time, I was riding this wolf when I heard the sentence pronounced. Little did I realize that this cursed beast would remember it and come here to abduct the queen and dispel calamity for the king. It has been three years now, and his preordained chastisement has been fulfilled. You are to be thanked for arriving to heal the king, and I’ve come especially to bring the fiend to submission.”

“Bodhisattva,” said Pilgrim, “the story may go like this, but he has also defiled the queen, corrupted the customs, upset the relations, and perverted the law. He is worthy of death. Now that you have arrived in person, I shall spare his life but not his living punishment. Let me give him twenty strokes of my rod, and then you may take him away.” “Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “if you appreciate my epiphany, then you must, for my sake, grant him a plenary pardon. This will be considered entirely your merit, that of bringing the fiend to submission. If you raise your rod, he will be dead!” As he dared not disobey, Pilgrim had no choice but to bow and say, “After the Bodhisattva has taken him back to South Sea, he must not be permitted to return in secret to the human world again, for he can cause a lot of harm.”

Only then did the Bodhisattva cry out, “Cursed beast! If you don’t return to your origin now, when will you do so?” Rolling once on the ground, the fiend immediately appeared in his original form. As he shook out his furry coat, the Bodhisattva mounted his back, only to discover with one look that the three bells beneath his collar were nowhere to be seen. “Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “return my bells.” “Old Monkey doesn’t know anything about bells!” replied Pilgrim.

“You thievish ape!” snapped the Bodhisattva. “If you hadn’t succeeded in stealing the bells, even ten of you would not be able to approach him. Bring them out quickly!” “But really, I haven’t seen them!” chuckled Pilgrim. “In that case,” said the Bodhisattva, “allow me to recite the Tight-Fillet Spell a little.”

At once alarmed, Pilgrim could only mutter, “Don’t recite! Don’t recite! The bells are here!” Thus it is that

From the wolf’s collar who’ll untie the bells?

The one untying asks the one who ties.

After the Bodhisattva had slipped the bells back onto the collar of the wolf, she mounted his back again. Look at him!

Beneath his four legs lotus blossoms grow;

O’er all his body thick golden threads glow.

The Great Compassion went back to South Sea, where we shall leave her.

We tell you instead about the Great Sage Sun, who, having tightened his kilt, wielded the iron rod to fight his way into the Cave of the Mythic Beast and slew all the rest of the fiends. Then he went into the palace to beckon the Lady Golden Sage Palace to return to her country. The lady could not have been more grateful after Pilgrim gave her a thorough account of how the Bodhisattva had brought the fiend to submission and why she had to be separated from her mate. Then Pilgrim found some grass that he tied together to make a straw dragon. “Madam,” he said, “climb on this and close your eyes. Don’t be afraid. I’m taking you back to court to see your lord.” The lady followed his instruction as Pilgrim began to exercise his magic power: all she heard was the sound of the wind.

In the period of half an hour they arrived at the capital. As they dropped from the clouds, he said, “Madam, please open your eyes.” The queen opened her eyes and at once those dragon towers and phoenix bowers, which she readily recognized, gave her immense delight. She abandoned the straw dragon to ascend the treasure hall with Pilgrim. When the king saw her, he hurried down from the dragon couch. Taking the hand of the lady, he wanted to tell her how much he missed her when all of a sudden, he fell to the ground crying, “Oh my hand! It hurts! It hurts!”

Eight Rules broke out in loud guffaws, saying, “O dear! You just don’t have the luck to enjoy her. The moment you see her you are smitten to death!” “Idiot,” said Pilgrim, “you dare give her a tug?” “What’ll happen if I do?” asked Eight Rules.

Pilgrim said, “The lady’s body is covered with poisonous prickles, and her hands are full of vicious stings. Since she reached the Unicorn Mountain these three years, that fiend Jupiter’s Rival has never claimed her body. For the moment he touched her, his body or his hands would be pained.” On hearing this, the various officials exclaimed, “What shall we do?” So the officials outside the court became vexed, and the ladies of the palace, too, were alarmed. Meanwhile, Jade Sage and Silver Sage, the two other consorts, helped the ruler to his feet.

As they stood there in confusion, they heard someone calling out in midair, “Great Sage, I’ve arrived!” Pilgrim raised his head to look, and he heard

Majestic crane cries in the sky,

As someone drifted down to court.

Auspicious radiance encircling;

Creative auras tremulous.

A coir and grass coat wrapped in cloud and mist,

He trod straw sandals rarely seen.

He held a fly-swat of rushes;

A silk sash wound around his waist.

Throughout the world he had formed human ties;

Footloose, he roamed all the great earth.

This was the Great Heaven’s Immortal Purple Cloud,

Bringing salvation this day to earth.⁹

Going forward to meet him, Pilgrim said, “Zhang Ziyang,¹⁰ where are you going?” The Realized Immortal Ziyang went before the court and bowed, saying, “Great Sage, this humble immortal Zhang Boduan raises my hand to salute you.” Returning his bow, Pilgrim said, “Where have you come from?”

The realized immortal said, “Three years ago, I was on my way to a Buddha festival when I passed through this region. When I saw that the king was destined to be separated from his mate, I feared that the fiend might defile the queen and upset the human relations, so that afterwards it would be difficult for the king and queen to be reunited.¹¹ I therefore changed an old coir coat of mine into a new shining robe, radiant in five colors, to present to the fiend king as an addition to the queen’s wardrobe. The moment when she put it on, poisonous prickles sprouted on her body, but actually those prickles were the transformation of the coir coat. Now that I have learned of the Great Sage’s success, I have come to bring deliverance.”

“In that case,” said Pilgrim, “we are indebted to you for coming from such a great distance. Please deliver her, quickly.” The realized immortal walked forward and pointed at the lady with his finger; immediately, the coir coat came off and the lady’s entire body was smooth as before. Shaking out the coat, the realized immortal draped it over himself and said to Pilgrim, “I beg your pardon, Great Sage, for this humble immortal must take leave of you.” “Please wait for a moment,” replied Pilgrim, “and allow the ruler to thank you.” “No need, no need,” said the immortal, laughing. He gave a long bow and rose into the air. The king, the queen, and all the officials were so astonished that they all bowed toward the sky.

Thereafter, the king gave the order for the Eastern Hall to be opened in order that the four priests might be thanked with a huge banquet. After the king led his subjects to kowtow to the pilgrims, he was reunited with his wife. As they drank merrily, Pilgrim said, “Master, take out that declaration of war.” The elder took it out from his sleeve to hand over to Pilgrim, who passed it to the king and said, “This document was to be sent here by a junior officer of the fiend. The officer had been beaten to death by me at first, and I took him here to announce my merit. When I went back to the mountain afterwards, I changed into the form of the officer to get inside the cave. That was how I got to see the lady. After I succeeded in stealing the golden bells, I was almost caught by the fiend. Then I had to undergo transformation to steal the bells again. When he fought with me, it was my fortune that the Bodhisattva Guanyin arrived and brought him to submission. She also told me of the reason why you and your queen had to be separated.” After he gave a thorough account of what had taken place, the king and all his subjects were full of gratitude and praise.

“It was the great good fortune of a worthy ruler in the first place,” said the Tang Monk, “and it was also the merit of our humble disciple. This lavish banquet you have given us is perfection indeed! We must bow to take leave of you now. Do not delay this humble cleric’s journey to the West.” Having failed to persuade the priests to stay longer even with earnest pleading, the king had the rescript certified. Then he asked the Tang Monk to take a seat in the imperial chariot, while he and his consorts pushed it with their own hands to send the pilgrim out of the capital before they parted. Truly,

With affinity, your anxious ailment’s purged;

Without thought or desire your mind’s at peace.

As they go forth, we do not know what sort of good or evil will befall them; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.