Journey to the West (vol. 2) Read online

Page 32


  “Fiend,” said Monkey, “you don't even know whether you want to live or to die. Stop all that talk and take this!”

  Seeing that Monkey was wielding his cudgel single-handed, the demon burst out laughing: “What a clever little ape! Do you think you'll be able to hold me off by using your cudgel one-handed?”

  “My dear boy,” said Monkey, “if I used both hands it would be too much for you. Even with four or five hands you wouldn't be able to beat me even if I had one hand tied behind my back. That is, as long as you didn't use that pouch of yours.”

  “Very well then,” the demon king replied, “I won't use my treasure. I'll give you a straight fight and we'll see who's the best man.” With that he raised his wolf-tooth mace and attacked Monkey, who opened his clenched fist in the demon's face before wielding the cudgel in both hands. Once the demon was under the spell he put all thought of retreat out of his mind and indeed did not use his pouch, but went for Monkey with his mace. Monkey feinted then turned and fled in defeat, pursued by the evil spirit down the Western slopes of the mountain.

  As soon as he saw the melon field Monkey rolled himself into a ball to go into it and turn himself into a big, ripe, sweet watermelon. The evil spirit stopped to look all around, not knowing where Monkey had gone.

  He rushed over to the hut and asked, “Who's growing these melons?”

  Maitreya, who had turned himself into an old melon grower, came out of the thatched hut and said, “I am, Your Majesty.”

  “Have you got any ripe ones?” the demon king asked.

  “Yes,” Maitreya replied.

  “Pick me a ripe one then,” said the demon. “I'm thirsty.”

  Maitreya then picked the melon that was Monkey transformed and handed it to the demon king respectfully with both hands. The demon king did not stop to examine it, but took it and bit into it. This was Monkey's chance to go straight down the demon's throat. Without any more ado he started hitting out and kicking, grabbing and clawing at the monster's entrails and stomach, turning somersaults, standing on his head, and doing just as he liked. The evil spirit ground his teeth and grimaced in agony, the tears flowing down his face, as he rolled around the melon field till it looked like a threshing floor.

  “Stop, stop!” he shouted. “Save me, save me.”

  Maitreya then reverted to his true form and said with a jolly smile, “Evil beast, do you recognize me?”

  When the evil spirit looked up he fell to his knees on the ground, rubbing his stomach with both hands and kowtowing as he said, “Spare me,. master, spare me. I'll never do it again.”

  Maitreya then stepped forward, seized him with one hand, undid the future heaven pouch, took back the stick for beating the stone chime, and said, “Sun Wukong, spare his life for my sake.”

  Monkey, who was still beside himself with loathing and hatred, went on punching, kicking, and making havoc in the demon's insides until the demon collapsed in unbearable agony.

  “He's had all he can take, Wukong,” Maitreya said. “Spare him now.”

  “Open your mouth wide,” Sun Wukong finally said, “and let me out.” Although the demon's insides had been tied up into agonizing knots his heart had not yet been damaged, and as the saying goes,

  Until the heart is damaged nobody dies;

  Leaves only fall when the trunk's sap dries.

  As soon as he was told to open his mouth wide he did so, in spite of the pain. Only then did Monkey jump out and turn back into himself. He at once seized his cudgel and was about to strike again, but the Buddha Maitreya had already put the evil spirit into the pouch and slung it at his waist. Holding the chime-stick in his hand Maitreya said, “Evil beast, where are the golden cymbals you stole?”

  The monster, who was desperate to live, could be heard mumbling inside the future heaven bag, “Sun Wukong smashed them.”

  “If they're broken give me my gold back,” said Maitreya.

  “It's piled up on the lotus throne in the main hall,” the monster replied.

  Holding the bag in one hand and the stick in the other the Buddha laughed as he said, “Wukong, you and I are going to get my gold back.” After the display of such dharma power Sun Wukong dared not be at all remiss, but took the master back up the mountain and into the monastery, where they gathered all the pieces of gold.

  Although the monastery gates were firmly shut one push with the stick was enough to open them wide, and when they looked inside they saw that all the little devils had taken the monastery's wealth and were now fleeing in all directions. When Monkey found one he killed one; when he found two he killed two; and so on until he had killed all the six or seven hundred little devils, who resumed their real forms as mountain spirits, tree monsters, evil beasts and animal demons.

  The Buddha gathered all the pieces of gold together, blew on them with magic breath, and said the words of a spell. At once they were the two golden cymbals again. He then took his leave of Monkey and headed straight back to his paradise by auspicious cloud. The Great Sage then released the Tang Priest, Pig and Friar Sand.

  After being hung up there for several days the idiot was desperately hungry. Without waiting to thank Monkey he ran straight to the kitchen, his back bent, to find some food. As it happened the demon had sent for his lunch but not had time to eat it when Monkey challenged him to battle. The moment he saw it Pig ate half a saucepan of rice before fetching a pair of bowls for the master and Friar Sand each to eat two bowlfuls. Only then did he thank Monkey and ask about the evil spirit.

  Monkey told him all about how he had asked the help of King Teacher, Tortoise and Snake, then borrowed the prince from the True Lord, and about how Maitreya had subdued the demon. When Sanzang heard this he expressed his gratitude at great length and kowtowed to all the heavens. “Disciple,” he asked, “where are all the gods imprisoned?”

  “The Duty God of the Day told me yesterday that they were all in the pit,” Monkey replied. “Pig,” he continued, “you and I are going to rescue them.”

  Now that he had eaten, the idiot was full of strength and energy again as he found his rake and went with Monkey to open up the pit, untie the prisoners, and ask them to come out to under the tower. Sanzang, who had now put his cassock back on, bowed to each of them in thanks, after which the Great Sage saw the five dragons and two generals off on their way back to Wudang, Little Prince Zhang and the four generals on their way to Bincheng, and the Twenty-eight Constellations on their way back to the palaces of Heaven. He also released the Protectors and Guardians so that each could return to his own territory.

  Master and disciples stayed on in the monastery to rest for a few hours. Then, after the horse had eaten its fill and the luggage all been packed, they set out again the next morning. Before leaving they burnt the towers, thrones, halls and preaching chambers to ashes. Thus it was that

  Without any cares from their troubles they flee,

  From disasters and obstacles finally free.

  If you don't know when they reached the Great Thunder Monastery, listen to the explanation in the next installment.

  Chapter 67

  The Dhyana-Nature Is Stable and Tuoluo Village Is Saved

  The Mind of the Way Is Purified As Corruption Is Removed

  The story tells how Sanzang and his three disciples happily continued along their way after leaving the Lesser Western Heaven. They had been going for over a month, and it was now late spring. The flowers were in bloom and all the woods they could see were full of green shade. After a spell of wind and rain dusk was falling once more.

  “Disciple,” said Sanzang, reining in his horse, “it's getting late. Which way shall we go to look for somewhere to spend the night?”

  “Don't worry, Master,” said Monkey with a smile. “Even if we can't find anywhere to stay we three all have our skills. Tell Pig to cut some grass and Friar Sand to fell some pines. I know a bit of carpentry. We can make ourselves a hut by the road here good enough to stay in for a year. Why the rush?”

&nbs
p; “But this is no place to stay, brother,” said Pig. “The mountain's crawling with wild beasts like tigers, leopards and wolves. Mountain ogres and hobgoblins are all over the place. It's hard enough travelling by daylight. I wouldn't dare spend the night here.”

  “Idiot!” said Monkey. “You're getting more and more hopeless. I'm not just shooting my mouth off. With this cudgel in my hands I could hold up the sky itself if it collapsed.”

  Master and disciples were in the middle of their conversation when they noticed a hill farm not far away. “Good,” said Monkey, “a place for the night.”

  “Where?” the venerable elder asked.

  “Isn't that a house in the trees over there?” asked Monkey, pointing. “Let's ask if we can put up for the night there. We can be on our way first thing in the morning.”

  Sanzang was so delighted he urged his horse forward. Dismounting outside the wicker gates he found them firmly fastened.

  “Open up, open up,” he called, knocking on the gates. They were opened from the inside by an old man with a stick who was wearing rush sandals, a black turban and a plain gown.

  “Who's that shouting?” he asked.

  Putting his hands together in front of his chest, Sanzang bowed in polite greeting and said, “Venerable patron, I am a monk sent from the East to fetch scriptures from the Western Heaven. As I have reached this distinguished place so late in the day I have come to your residence to ask for a night's lodging. I beg you to be charitable to us.”

  “Monk,” the elder said, “you may want to go to the West, but you'll never get there. This is the Lesser Western Heaven, and it's a very long way from here to the Great Western Heaven. This place alone is hard enough to get out of, to say nothing of the difficulties of the rest of the journey.”

  “Why is it hard to get out of?” Sanzang asked.

  The old man put his hands together and replied, “About a dozen miles West of our village is a Runny Persimmon Lane and a mountain called Seven Perfections.”

  “Why 'Seven Perfections?'“ Sanzang asked.

  “It's 250 miles across,” the old man replied, “and covered with persimmons. There's an old saying that persimmon trees have seven perfections:

  1. They prolong life.

  2. They are very shady.

  3. No birds nest in them.

  4. They are free of insects.

  5. Their leaves are very beautiful after frost.

  6. The fruit is excellent.

  7. The branches and leaves are big and fat.

  That's why it's called Mount Seven Perfections. This is a big, thinly populated area, and nobody has ever been deep into the mountain. Every year over-ripe, rotten persimmons fall on the path, and they fill the rocky lane right up. The rain, dew, snow and frost attack them, and they rot all through the summer until the whole path is a mass of putrefaction. The people round here call it Runny Shit, or Runny Persimmon, Lane. When there's a West wind it smells even worse than a cesspit being emptied. As it's now high spring and there's strong Southeasterly blowing you can't smell it yet.” Sanzang felt too depressed to speak.

  Monkey could not contain himself. “Silly old fool,” he shouted at the top of his voice. “We're here late at night to find somewhere to stay, and you're trying to scare us with all that talk. If your house really is so poky that there's no room for us to sleep indoors we'll spend the night squatting under this tree. So cut the cackle.” At the sight of Monkey's hideous face the old man shut his mouth, petrified with fear.

  Then he plucked up his courage, pointed his stick at Monkey and shouted, “Damn you, you bony-faced, pointy-browed, flat-nosed, sunken-cheeked, hairy-eyed, sickly-looking devil. You've got no sense of respect, sticking your mouth out like that and insulting an old gentleman.”

  “You're not very perceptive, old chap,” Monkey replied, putting on a smile. “You don't realize who this sickly-looking devil is. As the manual of physiognomy says, 'A freakish face is like a rock in which fine jade is hidden.' You're completely wrong to judge people on their looks. Ugly I certainly am, but I know a trick or two.”

  “Where are you from?” the old man asked. “What's your name? What powers do you have?” To this Monkey replied with a smile:

  “My home is in the Eastern Continent of Superior Body;

  My conduct I cultivated on the Mount of Flowers and Fruit.

  After studying with the Patriarch of the Spirit-tower Heart Mountain

  I learned complete and perfect skill in the martial arts.

  I can stir up the oceans, subdue mother dragons,

  Carry mountains on my shoulders, and drive the sun along.

  At capturing monsters and demons I'm champion;

  Ghosts and gods are terrified when I shift the stars.

  Great is my fame as sky-thief and earth-turner;

  I'm the Handsome Stone Monkey of infinite transformations.

  This turned the old man's anger to delight. Bowing to them he said, “Please come into my humble abode and make yourselves comfortable.” The four of them then went in together, leading the horse and carrying the load. All that could be seen to either side of the gates were prickly thorns. The inner gates were set in a wall of brick and stone that had more thorns on top of it, and only when they had gone through them did they see a three-roomed tiled house. The old man pulled up chairs for them to sit on while they waited for tea to be brought and gave orders for a meal. Soon a table was brought in and set with wheat gluten, beancurd, sweet potatoes, radishes, mustard greens, turnips, rice and sour-mallow soup.

  Master and disciples all ate their fill. After the meal Pig pulled Monkey aside and whispered, “Brother, the old bloke wasn't going to let us stay at first. Now he's given us this slap-up meal. Why?”

  “It wasn't worth very much, was it?” Brother Monkey replied. “Tomorrow we'll make him give us ten kinds of fruit and ten dishes of food.”

  “You've got a nerve,” Pig replied. “You talked him into giving us a meal all right with all that boasting. But we'll be on our way tomorrow. How can he give you things?”

  “Don't be so impatient,” said Monkey, “I've got a way to cope.”

  Dusk soon started to draw in. The old man brought a lamp, and Monkey asked with a bow, “What is your surname, sir?”

  “Li,” the old man replied.

  “I suppose this must be Li Village,” Monkey continued.

  “No,” said the old man, “this is Tuoluo Village. Over five hundred families live here. Most of them have other surnames. I am the only one called Li.”

  “Benefactor Li,” Monkey replied, “with what kind intentions did you give us that ample meal?”

  “Just now you said that you could capture evil monsters,” said the old man. “We have a monster here that we'd like you to capture for us, and we will of course reward you generously.”

  Monkey then chanted a “na-a-aw” of respect and said, “I accept your commission.”

  “Just look at him,” said Pig, “asking for trouble. The moment he hears there's a demon to catch he's nicer to him than he would be to his own grandfather. He even chanted a 'na-a-aw' first.”

  “You don't understand, brother,” said Monkey. “My 'na-a-aw' clinched the deal. Now he won't hire anyone else.”

  When Sanzang heard this he said, “You monkey, you always want to grab things for yourself. If that evil spirit's powers are too great for you to capture him then we monks will be shown up as liars.”

  “Don't be cross with me, Master,” Monkey said with a smile. “Let me ask some more questions.”

  “What else?” the old man asked.

  “This fine village is on an open plain and a lot of people live here,” said Monkey. “It's not remote and isolated. What evil spirit would dare come to your door?”

  “I will be frank with you,” the old man replied. “We had long lived in peace and prosperity here till a sudden, strong wind blew three and a half years ago. Everyone was busy at the time threshing the wheat on the threshing floor or transp
lanting rice in the paddy fields. We thought it was just a change in the weather. We never imagined that when the wind had blown by an evil spirit would eat the horses and cattle that people had put out to pasture as well as the pigs and the sheep. He swallowed hens and geese whole, and any men or women he found he devoured alive. Since then he's come again each of the last two years to murder us. Venerable sir, if you really do have magic powers to capture the evil spirit and cleanse the place of him, we will most certainly reward you generously and with great respect.”

  “But the monster will be hard to catch,” Monkey replied.

  “Yes,” said Pig, “very hard. We're pilgrim monks only here for the night. We'll be on our way tomorrow. We can't catch any monsters.”

  “So you monks just tricked that meal out of me,” the old man said. “When we first met you talked very big. You said you could move the stars and capture evil monsters. But now I've told you about this you pretend he can't be caught.”

  “Old man,” said Monkey, “it would be easy to catch the evil spirit, except that you people here don't work together. That's why it's hard.”

  “How can you be so sure that we don't work together?” the old man asked.

  “If the monster has been harassing you for three years, goodness only knows how many lives he's taken,” Monkey replied. “I reckon that if every family put up one ounce of silver the five hundred households could raise five hundred ounces, and with that you could find a priest somewhere who'd exorcise the monster. Why did you cheerfully put up with three years of such cruelty from him?”

  “You talk of spending money,” the old man said. “You're trying to shame us to death. Every family here has spent four or five ounces of silver. The year before last we went to invite a Buddhist monk South of the mountains here to catch the monster, but he failed.”

  “How did the monk try to do it?” Brother Monkey asked. To this the old man replied: