Journey to the West (vol. 2) Page 17

  Just look at him as he keeps tossing the cake from one hand to another shouting, “It's hot, it's hot, I can't eat it.”

  “If you can't stand heat don't come here,” the young man replied. “It's always this hot here.”

  “You don't understand at all, my lad,” said Monkey. “As the saying goes,

  If it's never too cold and it's never too hot

  The five kinds of grain will be harvested not.”

  “If it's so hot here how do you get the flour to make your cakes?” To this the young man said,

  “You ask me where we can obtain the flour for the pan:

  Politely we request it from Immortal Iron Fan.”

  “What can you tell me about this immortal?” Monkey asked.

  “The immortal has a plantain fan,” the young man replied. “If you ask it to, the fan puts out the fire at the first wave, makes a wind blow at the second wave, and brings rain at the third wave. That is how we can sow and reap the crops to support ourselves. Without it nothing would be able to grow.”

  On hearing this Monkey rushed back inside, gave the cakes to Sanzang, and said, “Don't worry, Master: Don't get upset about what's going to happen the year after next. East these cakes up and I'll tell you all about it.” Sanzang took the cakes and said to the old man, “Please have a cake, sir.”

  “I could not possibly eat one of your cakes before we've offered you any of our tea and food,” the old man replied. “Sir,” Monkey replied, “there's no need to give us food or tea. But could you tell me where the Iron Fan Immortal lives?”

  “What do you want to know about the immortal for?” the old man asked. “The cake-seller told me just now that the immortal has a plantain fan,” said Monkey. “If you borrow it the first wave puts the fire out, the second raises a wind and the third brings rain. That's why you're able to sow and reap the crops to support yourselves. I want to go to ask the immortal to come so we can put out the flames on the Fiery Mountains and cross them. And you'll be able to sow, reap and live in peace.”

  “It's a nice idea,” said the old man, “but as you have no presents the immortal wouldn't come.”

  “What sort of presents would be wanted?” Sanzang asked.

  “Every ten years,” the old man replied, “we go to visit the immortal. We take four pigs and four sheep, all decorated with flowers and red ribbons, delicious fruit in season, chickens, geese and the best wine. We bathe ourselves and go very reverently to pay a respectful visit to the mountain and ask the immortal to leave the cave and come here to perform magic.”

  “Where is this mountain?” Monkey asked. “What's it called? How far is it from here? I'm going there to ask for the fan.”

  “It lies Southwest of here,” the old man said, “and it's called Mount Turquoise Cloud. When we believers go to worship at the magic mountain the journey takes us a month as it's about 485 miles altogether.”

  “No problem,” said Monkey. “I can be there and back in no time.”

  “Wait a minute,” said the old man. “Have something to eat and drink first, and we'll get some provisions ready for the journey. You'll need two people to go with you. Nobody lives along the way and there are many wolves and tigers. It'll take you many a day to get there. You must be serious about it.”

  “No need,” said Monkey with a laugh, “no need. I'm off.” As soon as he had said that he disappeared.

  “My lord!” the old man said in astonishment. “He's a god who can ride clouds.”

  We shall say no more of how the family redoubled their offerings to the Tang Priest, but tell of Monkey, who arrived at Mount Turquoise Cloud in an instant, brought his auspicious light to a stop and started looking for the entrance to the cave. He heard the sound of an axe and saw a woodcutter felling a tree in the forest on the mountainside. Hurrying forward, Monkey heard him saying.

  “I recognize the ancient woods amid the clouds;

  The path is overgrown; the hillside steep.

  From Western hills I see the morning rain;

  Returning to the South the ford's too deep.”

  Going closer to the woodman Monkey said, “Greetings, woodman.” Putting down his axe the woodcutter returned his courtesy and asked him where he was going. “May I ask if this is Mount Turquoise Cloud?” said Monkey.

  “Yes,” the woodcutter replied.

  “Where is the Iron Fan Immortal's Plantain Cave?” Monkey asked.

  “There's a Plantain Cave here,” the woodcutter replied, “but no Iron Fan Immortal, only a Princess Iron Fan. She's also called Raksasi.”

  “They say the immortal has a plantain fan that can put out the flames of the Fiery Mountains. Is that her?”

  “Yes, yes,” the woodman said. “She's a sage and she has this treasure that puts out fire. Because she protects the people who live over yonder they call her the Iron Fan Immortal. We have no need of her here, so we just call her Raksasi. She's the wife of the Bull Demon King.”

  Monkey went pale with shock at the news. “Another person who's got it in for me,” he thought. “When I subdued the Red Boy the other year he said this bitch was his mother. When I met the Red Boy's uncle at Childfree Cave on Mount Offspring Dissolved he refused me the water and wanted revenge. Now I'm up against his parents. How am I ever going to borrow the fan?”

  Seeing Monkey deep in thought and sighing endlessly, the woodcutter said with a smile, “Venerable sir, you're a man of religion. You shouldn't have any worries. Just follow this path East and you'll be at the Plantain Cave within a couple of miles.”

  “I'll be frank with you, woodcutter,” said Monkey. “I'm the senior disciple of the Tang Priest who has been sent by the Tang emperor in the East to go to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven. The other year I had words with Raksasi's son Red Boy at the Fire-cloud Cave, and I'm afraid that Raksasi may refuse to let me have the fan because she's still nursing a grudge. That's why I'm worried.”

  “A real man knows how to play it by ear,” the woodcutter replied. “Just ask for the fan. Forget about your old quarrel. I'm sure you'll be able to borrow it.”

  Monkey made a respectful chant and said, “Thank you very much for your advice. I'm off.”

  Brother Monkey then took his leave of the woodcutter and went straight to the mouth of the Plantain Cave. Both doors were tightly shut, and the scenery outside was magnificent. It was a splendid place. Indeed:

  The rocks were the hones of the mountain,

  And also the spirit of the earth.

  Clouds at sunset held night rain,

  And mosses lent the freshness of their green.

  The towering peaks outdid those of Penglai;

  The fragrant calm was like a magic island's.

  Wild cranes were perching in the lofty pines

  While warblers sang in the weeping willows.

  This was indeed an ancient site,

  The home of immortals for ten thousand years.

  The resplendent phoenix sang in the parasol trees

  While azure dragons hid in the running waters.

  Vines hung over the winding paths,

  And creepers covered the steps of stone.

  Apes on the cliffs screeched to welcome the rising moon;

  In tall trees birds sang for joy at the clear blue sky.

  The groves of bamboo were as cool as if it had rained;

  The flowers along the path were embroidered velvet.

  At times a cloud of white would blow from a distant peak;

  It had no single form as it drifted in the wind.

  “Open up, Brother Bull,” Monkey shouted as he went up to the doors. They opened with a creak, and out came a young girl carrying a flower basket in her hand and hoe over her shoulder. Indeed:

  Though clad in rags and dressed in no fine array,

  Her face was full of spirit, her heart set on the Way.

  Monkey went up to her with his hands together in front of his chest and said, “Would you kindly tell the princess that I'm a monk going t
o the West to fetch the scriptures. I'm here to beg the loan of her plantain fan as we can't get across the Fiery Mountains.”

  “What monastery are you from,” the girl asked, “and what is your name? Please tell me so that I can announce you.”

  “I'm from the East,” Monkey replied, “and my name is Sun Wukong.”

  The girl went back into the cave, knelt to the princess, and said, “Your Highness, there's a monk from the East called Sun Wukong outside who would like to see you to ask for the loan of the plantain fan to cross the Fiery Mountains.” The name Sun Wukong was like a pinch of salt thrown into a flame, or oil poured on a fire. Her face went bright red and evil anger flared up in her heart.

  “So that damned monkey's here at last,” she said with hatred. “Girl,” she shouted, “fetch me my armor and my weapons.” She then put on her armor, tied her pair of blue-tipped swords at her waist, fastened it all firmly, and went out. Monkey slipped over to the entrance to see what she looked like and this is what he saw:

  A flowered kerchief tied around her head,

  A cloud-patterned robe of quilted brocade.

  A belt of two tiger sinews round her waist,

  Revealing a skirt of embroidered silk.

  Her shoes like phoenix beaks were but three inches long;

  Her trousers in dragon-beard style were adorned with gold.

  Brandishing her swords she gave out angry shouts;

  She looked as lethal as the goddess of the moon.

  “Where's Sun Wukong?” Raksasi shouted as she came out of her cave.

  Monkey stepped forward, bowed, and replied, “Monkey offers his respectful greetings, sister-in-law.”

  “I'm no sister-in-law of yours,” she shouted angrily, “and I'll have no greetings from you.”

  “Your worthy husband the Bull Demon King was once my sworn brother,” Monkey replied. “There were seven of us altogether. As I learn that you are my brother Bull's good lady, of course I must call you sister-in-law.”

  “Damned ape,” said Raksasi, “if you're my husband's sworn brother why did you have to do that terrible thing to our boy?”

  “Who is your son?” Monkey asked, as if he did not know.

  “He's the Red Boy, the Boy Sage King of the Fire-cloud Cave by Withered Pine Ravine on Mount Hao,” Raksasi replied. “You ruined him, and now you've come to our door to pay with your life. We've been longing to get our revenge on you but didn't know where to find you. You'll get no mercy from me.”

  Putting on the broadest of smiles, Monkey replied, “You haven't gone into it thoroughly enough, sister-in-law. You've no reason to be so angry with me Your good son had captured my master and would have steamed or boiled him if the Bodhisattva hadn't taken the boy as his disciple and rescued my master. He's now the page Sudhana on the Bodhisattva's island and he's accepted the pursuit of the true reward from her. He is now beyond life and death and above filth and purity. He will live as long as heaven, earth, the sun and the moon. But far from thanking me for saving his life you're getting angry at me. That's wrong of you.”

  “You smooth-tongued ape,” Raksasi snapped back. “My boy may be alive, but when is he ever going to come here? When am I going to see him again?”

  “It'll be easy for you to see your son again,” Monkey replied, still smiling. “Just lend me the fan to put the fires out. When I've taken my master across the mountains I'll go to the Bodhisattava's place in the Southern Ocean and ask him to come here to see you and give your fan back. No problem. Then you'll be able to see that he's completely unharmed. If he'd been wounded at all you'd have had every right to be angry with me. But he's as handsome as ever. You ought to be thanking me.”

  To this Raksasi's reply was: “Shut up, ape fiend! Stick your head out for me to hack with my sword. If you can stand the pain I'll lend you the plantain fan. If you can't you'll be going straight down to Hell to see King Yama.”

  Monkey then clasped his hands together in front of him and replied with a smile, “Enough said, sister-in-law. I'll stretch my bald head out and you can take as many hacks as you like until you're exhausted. But you must lend me the fan.” With no more argument Raksasi swung both of her swords around and brought them down with loud thunks a dozen or more times on Monkey's head. He was not bothered at all. Raksasi was so frightened by this that she turned to run away.

  “Where are you going, sister-in-law?” Monkey said. “Hurry up and lend me that fan.”

  “My treasure isn't something to be lent out casually,” Raksasi replied.

  “Well,” said Monkey, “if you refuse now you'll just have to try a taste of your brother-in-law's cudgel.”

  The splendid Monkey King held on to her with one hand while pulling his cudgel out from his ear with the other. With one wave it became as thick as a ricebowl. Raksasi broke free from his grip and raised her swords to strike back at him. Monkey started swinging his cudgel to hit her with and the fight began in front of Mount Turquoise Cloud. All talk of kinship was forgotten and their minds full of hatred alone. It was a fine battle:

  The woman had worked hard to make herself a monster;

  She loathed the ape and would avenge her son.

  Although Monkey was seething with fury,

  He would have made concessions for his master's sake.

  First he had asked to borrow the plantain fan,

  Being patient and gentle, not fierce.

  In ignorance Raksasi hacked with her sword,

  While Monkey decided to speak of kinship.

  Women should never fight with men,

  For men are harder and can crush them.

  Terrible was the gold-banded cudgel,

  Fine were the movements of the blue frost-bladed sword,

  With blows to face and head,

  As both of them grimly refused to yield.

  Blocking to left and right they used their martial skill;

  Great was the cunning with which they stood or fell back.

  Just when they both were beginning to enjoy themselves

  The sun set in the Western sky before they noticed.

  Raksasi made ghosts and deities feel small

  With many a wave of her true magic fan.

  Raksasi and Monkey fought it out till evening. As Monkey's cudgel struck so hard and his technique was so flawless she realized that she would never be able to beat him. She brought out her plantain fan and with a single wave blew Monkey right out of sight. There was no way he could stand his ground. With that she went back to her cave in triumph.

  The Great Sage was thrown around in the air, unable to come down to earth or find any refuge. He was like a dead leaf in a whirlwind or a fallen blossom carried along by a torrent.

  Only after a whole night's buffeting did he manage to land on a mountain the next morning and hold on hard to a rock by putting both arms round it. He needed a long time to calm himself and take a good look around before he realized that he was on Little Mount Sumeru.

  “What a terrible woman,” he said to himself with a deep sigh. “How ever did she get me here? I remember coming here once to ask the Bodhisattva Lingji to subdue the Yellow Wind Monster and rescue my master. The Yellow Wind Ridge is over a thousand miles South of here, so as I've been blown back from the West I must have come thousands and thousands of miles. I'll go down and find out some more from the Bodhisattva Lingji before I go back.”

  Just as he was making his mind up he heard a resounding gong, so he hurried down the mountain and straight to the dhyana monastery. The lay brother on the gate recognized Monkey and went in to announce, “The hairy-faced Great Sage who asked the Bodhisattva to subdue the Yellow Wind Monster some years back is here again.”

  Realizing that this must be Sun Wukong, the Bodhisattva hurried down from his throne to greet him and lead him inside with the words, “Allow me to congratulate you. I suppose you have fetched the scriptures now.”

  “It'll be a long time yet,” said Monkey, “a long time.”

  “But why are you
visiting my mountain if you have yet to reach the Thunder Monastery?” the Bodhisattva asked.

  “Since in your great kindness you subdued the Yellow Wind Monster for me some years ago,” Monkey replied, “goodness only knows how much we've suffered on our journey. Now we are at the Fiery Mountains, but we can't cross them. When I asked the local people they told me about an Iron Fan Immortal who had an iron fan that could put the fires out. I went to visit the immortal, only to discover that she's the wife of the Bull Demon King and the Red Boy's mother. I told her that her son is now Guanyin Bodhisattva's page, but she has it in for me because she can't see him. She refused to lend me her fan and fought me. When she realized that my cudgel was too much for her she waved her fan and sent me hurling through the air till I landed here. That's why I've come blundering into your monastery to ask the way back. How far is it from here to the Fiery Mountains?”

  “The woman is called Raksasi, or Princess Iron Fan,” replied Lingji with a smile. “That plantain fan of hers is a miraculous treasure formed by heaven and earth behind Mount Kunlun ever since primal chaos was first separated. This leaf is the very essence of the negative Yin principle, which is why it can put out fire. If she fans somebody with it he'll be blown 27,000 miles before that negative wind drops. But this mountain of mine is only some 17,000 miles from the Fiery Mountains. You must have stopped here because you have the power to delay clouds, Great Sage. No ordinary mortal would have been able to stop.”

  “She's terrible,” said Monkey. “How ever is my master going to get across those mountains?”

  “Don't worry, Great Sage,” Lingji replied. “The Tang Priest is fated to succeed on this journey with you.”

  “How can you tell?” Monkey asked. “Many years age when the Tathagata gave me his instructions,” Lingji replied, “he presented me with a Wind-fixing Pill and a Flying Dragon Staff. The Flying Dragon Staff was used to subdue the Yellow Wind Monster, but I haven't yet tried out the Wind-fixing Pill and I'll give it to you today. It'll stop the fan from being able to move you. You'll just have to ask to get it and put the fire out with it. You'll have an instant success.”