Now the officer in the embroidered coat hauled the false Tang Monk out of the hostel, and with the Feathered Forest guards swarming round him on every side he went straight to the gate of the palace, where he said to the gate officer, “We have brought the Tang Monk here as ordered. Trouble yourself to send word in.” The gate officer hurried into court, reported it to the muddled king as he had been asked, and the king thereupon had him shown in.
The assembled officers all knelt and bowed at the foot of the steps, but the false Tang Monk stood bolt upright in the middle of them and called out in a loud voice, “King of Bhikṣu, what do you want with this poor monk?” The king said with a smile, “We have contracted an illness that has dragged on many days without mending. Happily the Royal Father-in-Law has bestowed on us a prescription. The drugs are all prepared and ready; only one ingredient is wanting, the one that carries the rest.
“We have therefore sent for you, elder, to beg a little of the conducting medicine. If it should cure the illness, we shall raise a shrine to you, elder, and make offerings at it in all four seasons, so that it becomes an incense fire handed down for as long as the state endures.” The false Tang Monk said, “I am one who has left home, and I have come this far with nothing but my own body. What is it that Your Majesty has asked the Royal Father-in-Law for, to serve as this conductor?”
The muddled king said, “What we seek is the elder's heart and liver.” The false Tang Monk said, “I will not deceive Your Majesty. Hearts I have several of. I do not know which colour and sort you require.” The Royal Father-in-Law, standing at the king's side, pointed at him and said, “That monk there — we want your black heart.”
The false Tang Monk said, “In that case, fetch a knife quickly and cut open my breast and belly. If there is a black heart there, I shall respectfully obey the command.” The muddled king, delighted, thanked him, and at once directed the officer of the guard to fetch an ox-ear dagger, which he handed to the false monk.
The false monk took the knife in his hand, undid his robe, thrust out his chest, drew his left hand across his belly and held the knife in his right; with a rrrip he slit the skin of his belly open, and out of it came tumbling and glugging a whole heap of hearts. The civil officers were frightened pale and the military officers went numb. The Royal Father-in-Law, seeing it from the hall above, said, “This is a monk of many hearts.”
The false monk took those hearts and, dripping with blood, picked them apart one by one for the company to look at: and they were a red heart, a white heart, a yellow heart, a grasping and greedy heart, a heart set on profit and fame, a jealous heart, a calculating heart, a heart that must win, a heart that looks upward, a heart that slights others, a murderous heart, a vicious heart, a fearful heart, an over-cautious heart, a heart of crooked delusion, a heart of nameless hidden darkness, hearts of every kind that is not good — and not one black heart among them.
The muddled king was so frightened that he sat blank and struggling, unable to get a word out, and told him shakily, “Take them away! Take them away!” The false Tang Monk could bear it no longer. He gathered up the conjured hearts, showed his true form, and said to the muddled king, “Your Majesty has no eyes at all.
“We monks are all of us a single sheet of good heart. It is only this Royal Father-in-Law of yours who has a black heart, and it would do nicely for your conducting medicine. If you do not believe me, let me fetch his out for you and we shall have a look.”
When the Royal Father-in-Law heard this he opened his eyes wide and looked closely, and saw that the monk had changed his face and was not of that former appearance at all. Aiya!
He knew him for the Great Sage Sun of years ago, / whose old fame was won five hundred years before.
He made to slip away and rose on a cloud, but Pilgrim turned a somersault, sprang up into the air and shouted, “Where do you think you are going? Take a taste of my rod!” The Royal Father-in-Law at once brought his coiled-dragon staff up to meet him.
The two of them, up in the middle air, fought a fine fight:
The As-You-Will rod, the coiled-dragon staff, / and one sheet of cloud hanging thick in the empty air.
It turns out the Royal Father-in-Law was a fiend all along, / who put a monster girl forward and called her a beauty.
The sovereign, greedy for pleasure, took the sickness into his body, / and the fiend meant to butcher the children.
Meeting the Great Sage, who showed his divine power, / he seized the fiend and saved the people, and the knot would be untied.
The iron rod came down on his head in real earnest, / the crutch-staff came up to meet it and drew a cheer.
They fought till fog filled the whole sky and darkened the moat and wall, / and in the town the households all went pale.
The souls of the civil and military officers flew off, / and the complexions of the consorts and the embroidery girls changed.
The muddled king of Bhikṣu was so frightened he hid himself in confusion, / trembling and shaking with no way to arrange matters.
The rod rose like a tiger coming out of the hills, / the crutch swung round like a dragon leaving the sea.
This time the great uproar was in the kingdom of Bhikṣu, / and it brought wrong and right out plain to see.
The fiend fought Pilgrim hard for twenty rounds and more, but the coiled-dragon staff could not hold off the gold-banded rod; he feinted once with the crutch, turned his body into a streak of cold light, dropped into the inner courts of the palace, brought the tribute queen out through the palace gate, and turned to cold light along with her, and where they went nobody knew.
The Great Sage brought his cloud down, came to the foot of the palace hall and said to the assembled officers, “That fine Royal Father-in-Law of yours!” The officers bowed together and gave thanks to the divine monk. Pilgrim said, “Never mind bowing. Go and see where that muddled sovereign of yours has got to.”
The officers said, “When our sovereign saw the fighting he took fright and hid himself, and we do not know which of the palaces he has gone into.” Pilgrim gave the order at once: “Find him quickly, and mind he has not been carried off by that lovely queen.” Hearing this the officers, making no distinction between inner courts and outer, ran with Pilgrim first to the lovely queen's palace — and it was empty and silent, with not so much as a trace of her; the lovely queen too had entirely vanished.
From the Principal Palace, the Eastern Palace, the Western Palace and the Six Courts, the whole company of consorts and concubines came out to bow their thanks to the Great Sage. The Great Sage said, “Please get up. It is not yet time for thanks. Go and find your sovereign.” In a little while four or five eunuchs were seen supporting the muddled king between them, coming from behind the Hall of Prudence.
The assembled ministers prostrated themselves on the ground and reported with one voice, “Sovereign! Sovereign! We have been favoured with the coming of a divine monk, who has told the true from the false. That Royal Father-in-Law was a fiend, and the lovely queen has vanished along with him.”
Hearing this, the king at once invited Pilgrim out of the inner palace to the Treasure Hall, where he bowed his thanks and said, “Elder, this morning when you came your appearance was so handsome and imposing. How is it that your looks have changed now?” Pilgrim said with a laugh, “I will not deceive Your Majesty. The one who came this morning was my master, the Tang court's own sworn brother of the emperor, Tripitaka.
“I am his disciple Sun Wukong, and there are two more disciples besides, Zhu Wuneng and Sha Wujing, who are at the Golden Pavilion Hostel at this moment. Because I knew you had believed a demon's words and meant to take my master's heart and liver for your conducting medicine, old Sun changed himself into my master's likeness and came here on purpose to subdue the fiend.”
When the king heard this he at once issued an order directing the Grand Preceptor of the Chancellery to go quickly to the hostel and invite the master and his party to court.
As for Tripitaka, when he heard that Pilgrim had shown his true form and was subduing a fiend up in the sky, he was frightened out of his wits. Luckily Bajie and Sha Monk were there to look after him, and besides, he still had a lump of stinking mud plastered over his face.
He was sitting there thoroughly out of sorts when he heard someone calling: “Master of the Law, we are the Grand Preceptors of the Chancellery, sent by the king of Bhikṣu, and we have come expressly to invite you to court to receive his thanks.” Bajie said with a laugh, “Master, don't be afraid, don't be afraid.
“This is not another summons to take your heart. I expect our elder brother has won, and they are inviting you so they can pay their thanks.” Tripitaka said, “Even if it is a victory they are inviting me for, how am I to be seen by anybody with this stinking face?”
Bajie said, “There's nothing else for it. Let us go and see our elder brother, and an explanation will present itself.” Truly the elder had no plan of his own, so he could only follow Bajie and Sha Monk, with the luggage carried on the pole and the horse led by the bridle, and go together to the courtyard of the hostel.
When the Grand Preceptor saw them he took fright and said, “Good heavens! These all look like the sort of thing with monstrous heads and freakish faces.” Sha Monk said, “Do not hold our ugliness against us, officer. These are the bodies we were born with. As for our master, once he has seen our elder brother he will be handsome again.”
The three of them came to court with the party, and without waiting to be announced went straight to the foot of the throne hall. Pilgrim saw them, turned and came down from the hall, went up to meet them face to face, pulled the mud mask off his master, blew a breath of immortal air on him and cried, “Change!” The Tang Monk at once recovered his original form, and felt brisker in spirit than before.
The king came down from the hall to welcome him in person, calling him “Master of the Law, Old Buddha.” The master and his disciples tied up the horse and all went up into the hall to be received. Pilgrim said, “Does Your Majesty happen to know where that fiend came from? Let old Sun go and seize him along with the other one, and cut off the trouble at the root.”
The Three Palaces and Six Courts, and all the consorts and womenfolk, were behind the kingfisher screen; and when they heard Pilgrim say he would cut off the trouble at the root, they did not even keep to the rule that separates men from women, inner court from outer, but came out all together and made their plea: “We beg the divine monk, the Old Buddha, to use his great powers to the full, to cut the weeds and take out the root, to sweep the creature away entirely. It would be a kindness beyond measure, and we should certainly repay it richly.”
Pilgrim hurriedly returned their courtesies, and would only have the king tell him where the creature lived. The king told him, shamefaced, “When he came three years ago I did question him. He said it was not far from the city, only seventy lǐ away to the south, where there is a Clear Splendour Manor on Willow Grove Slope.
“He said the Royal Father-in-Law was old and had no son, that his second wife had borne him one daughter only, just sixteen and not yet given to anyone, and that he wished to present her to me. Because I loved the girl I took her, and kept her in the palace as my favourite. Unexpectedly I fell ill, and the court physicians dosed me repeatedly to no effect.
“He said, 'I have an immortal prescription. It needs only the hearts of small children, decocted into a broth, to serve as the conductor.' It was my own worthlessness that believed him so lightly, and so I had small children selected from among the people, and fixed on noon today for the knife to open them and take out the hearts.
“I did not expect the divine monk to come down among us, and just then the geese-coops all vanished as well. Then he said that the divine monk had cultivated the truth through ten lifetimes and never spilled his primal male essence, so that getting his heart would be ten thousand times better than a child's.
“In a moment of error I offended, not knowing that the divine monk had seen through the demon. I dare to hope you will spread your great powers wide and cut off this trouble at the root, and I will repay you with the wealth of the whole kingdom.”
Pilgrim said with a laugh, “To tell you the plain truth, the children in the coops were hidden away by me, at my master's compassionate bidding. You may leave off talking about repaying me with goods and money. Once I have caught the demon, that is my own meritorious work.”
He called out, “Bajie, come along with me.” Bajie said, “I respectfully obey my brother's command. Only my belly is empty, and I shall not be much good at putting out strength.”
The king at once gave the order, telling the Court of Imperial Entertainments to prepare a vegetarian meal with all speed. In no time the meal arrived. Bajie ate his fill, shook out his spirits, and rose on a cloud behind Pilgrim. The king, the consorts and the civil and military officers were so struck that every one of them bowed towards the sky, and they all said, “These are true immortals and true buddhas come down among mortals.”
The Great Sage took Bajie with him and went straight to the place seventy lǐ to the south, where they put down their wind and cloud and began looking for the fiend's quarters. But all they could see was a clear stream between two banks, and on the banks ten thousand upon ten thousand willows, and there was no telling where the Clear Splendour Manor might be. It was truly a case of:
Ten thousand acres of open field, more than the eye can take in; / a thousand dykes of misted willow, hiding every trace.
The Great Sage searched and could not find it, so he made the magic sign, recited the true word 唵, and summoned out the local god of the place, who came trembling up to him, knelt down and said, “Great Sage, the god of Willow Grove Slope kowtows to you.”
Pilgrim said, “Don't be afraid, I am not going to beat you. I am asking you: on Willow Grove Slope there is a Clear Splendour Manor. Whereabouts is it?” The local god said, “Hereabouts there is a Clear Splendour Cave. There has never been a Clear Splendour Manor.
“Your humble god understands now. Would the Great Sage have come from the kingdom of Bhikṣu?” Pilgrim said, “Just so, just so. The king of Bhikṣu was taken in by a fiend, and when old Sun got there and saw it was a monster, I fought the creature off there and then; it turned into a streak of cold light and there is no telling where it went.
“When I asked the king of Bhikṣu, he said that three years ago, when the beautiful girl was presented, he had asked how it came about, and the creature said it lived at the Clear Splendour Manor on Willow Grove Slope, seventy lǐ south of the city. I have just tracked it as far as here, and I see the grove and the slope but no Clear Splendour Manor, which is why I am asking you.”
The local god kowtowed and said, “I beg the Great Sage to pardon my fault. The king of Bhikṣu is a lord of my territory too, and by rights I should have kept watch on this. But the fiend's divine power and magic are great, and if I let out anything about his affairs he would come and bully me, so it has gone unreported.
“Now that the Great Sage has come, only go to the ninth fork on the south bank, to the root of the willow there, turn three times to the left and three times to the right, strike the tree with both hands together and call 'Open the door' three times over, and the Clear Splendour cave-dwelling will appear.”
When the Great Sage heard this he sent the local god back, jumped across the stream with Bajie, and looked for that willow. Sure enough there were nine forking branches, all coming from a single root.
Pilgrim gave Bajie his orders: “Stand well back and wait. Let me call the door open, find the creature and drive him out, and you take him as he comes.” Bajie heard the order and went off to stand about half a lǐ from the tree.
The Great Sage did as the local god had told him: he went round the root of the tree, turned three times to the left and three times to the right, struck the tree with both hands together and called, “Open the door, open the door.” In an instant there was a loud report, the doors flew open with a crash in two leaves, and there was no sign of the tree at all.
Inside there was a bright glow of rosy light, and no sign of human life. Pilgrim, riding his divine power, charged in, and saw what a fine place it was:
Mist and rose-light glimmering bright, / sun and moon stealing their shine through.
White clouds come drifting out of the cave, / green moss runs riot over the courtyard.
One path of rare flowers contending in loveliness, / jade grasses at every step vying in fragrance.
A warm air, a scene forever spring, / no different from the Langyuan garden, no worse than Penglai.
Smooth benches with long creepers climbing them, / a level bridge hung about with tangled vines.
Bees carrying red stamens come to the rocky hollows, / butterflies playing over hidden orchids pass the stone screen.
Pilgrim hurried his pace, went close up to look, and saw four large characters on the stone screen: “Clear Splendour Immortal Residence”. He could not hold himself back, and jumped past the stone screen to look, and there was the old fiend with a beautiful woman gathered in his arms, panting, talking over the affair of Bhikṣu, and they were saying together, “What a fine chance it was! Three years' work, and it would have been finished today, and that monkey-head has broken it.”
Pilgrim ran up to them, whipped out his rod and shouted, “I'll teach you, you pack of hairballs! What 'fine chance'? Take my rod!” The old fiend dropped the beauty, swung up his coiled-dragon staff and hurried to meet him.
The two of them fought a fine fight in front of the cave, and this one was very different from the last:
The rod goes up and spits gold light, / the crutch swings round and lets its fury out.
The fiend said, “You know nothing, and you dare come in at my door.”
Pilgrim said, “I mean to subdue a fiend.”
The fiend said, “I love the king and it is nothing to do with you. Why come with a bullying heart to wipe me out?”
Pilgrim said, “A monk who cultivates the true teaching is compassionate at root, and cannot bear to watch children killed alive.”
Words went back and forth and each hated the other, / rod met crutch and crutch met rod, and they stabbed at the heart.
Fine jade flowers were trampled down for the sake of staying alive, / green moss was kicked through because it made the footing slip.
They fought till the rosy light in the cave went dim, / and the sweet growing things on the cliff were beaten flat.
The clash and clatter startled the birds so they could not fly, / the shouting frightened the beauty into running away.
Only the old fiend and the Monkey King were left, / and a howling wind came scouring along the ground.
Watch them fight their way out of the cave door, / and run straight into Wuneng with his blockhead temper up.
As it happened Bajie had been outside, and hearing the racket the two of them were making within, he got such an itch he could not scratch it; so he pulled out his muckrake, knocked over the nine-forked willow, gave it a few digs with the rake, and dug until fresh blood came spurting out and there seemed to be a thin whimpering sound.
He said, “This tree has become a spirit! This tree has become a spirit!” Bajie raised his rake and was just going to dig again when he saw Pilgrim bringing the fiend out. The blockhead did not stop to talk, but ran up and struck with the rake.
The old fiend was already having trouble matching Pilgrim, and when he saw Bajie's rake coming he lost his nerve entirely, broke, gave his body a shake, turned into a streak of cold light and made straight off to the east. The two of them would not let up for a moment, and came chasing after him eastward.
Just at the height of the shouting and killing they heard the cries of simurghs and cranes, and an auspicious light hanging faint in the air. They raised their eyes to look, and it was the Old Man of the South Pole Star. The old man threw a cover over the cold light and called out, “Slow down, Great Sage; stop chasing, Heavenly Reeds; this old Daoist offers you his respects.”
Pilgrim returned the courtesy at once and said, “Brother Longevity Star, where have you come from?” Bajie said with a laugh, “Since the meat-headed old fellow has covered up the cold light, he must have caught the fiend.”
The Longevity Star said with an apologetic smile, “He is here, he is here. I beg you two gentlemen to spare him his life.” Pilgrim said, “The old fiend is nothing to do with you, brother. Why come and plead for him?”
The Longevity Star said with a smile, “He is a mount of mine. He got away without my meaning it, and turned into this fiend.” Pilgrim said, “Since he belongs to you, brother, just make him show his original form and let us have a look.”
The Longevity Star heard him, and at once let the cold light out and shouted, “Cursed beast! Show your original form quickly and I will spare you a capital crime!” The creature gave itself a turn, and it was a white deer.
The Longevity Star picked up the crutch-staff and said, “You cursed beast, you even stole my walking stick!” The deer lay flat on the ground, unable to speak, and only went on kowtowing and dripping tears. And this is what he looked like:
A body like jade tablets, dappled and dappled, / two antlers uneven, seven forks to the curve.
Many a time when hungry he sought out the herb garden, / and some mornings when thirsty drank at the trickling clouds.
With the years he learned the art of flying up, / with the days he perfected a changing face.
Now, seeing the place his master called him from, / he shows his body, lays back his ears and bows to the dust.
The Longevity Star thanked Pilgrim and made to mount the deer and go. Pilgrim caught hold of him and said, “Not so fast, brother. There are two things not finished yet.” The Longevity Star said, “What things are still unfinished?”
Pilgrim said, “There is still the beauty, not caught yet, and no knowing what sort of creature she is; and we must go together to the city of Bhikṣu to see that muddled king, show the true forms and report back on the order.”
The Longevity Star said, “If you put it that way, I will be patient and wait. You and Heavenly Reeds go down into the cave and seize that beauty, and then we can all go and show the forms together.” Pilgrim said, “Wait a little, brother, we will go and come straight back.”
Bajie shook out his spirits and went straight into the Clear Splendour Immortal Residence behind Pilgrim, raising a shout and crying, “Seize the monster! Seize the monster!” The beauty was shaking with terror and had nowhere to run; then hearing the shouting swell she turned in behind the stone screen, where there was no back door to get out by.
Bajie roared at her, “Where do you think you are going? I'll have you, you stinking spirit who fools husbands. Look out for the rake!” The beauty had no weapon in her hand and could not meet him; she gave a flicker of her body, turned into a streak of cold light and made off outwards.
The Great Sage blocked the cold light and struck it with a crack of his rod. The creature could not keep her feet, fell in the dust, showed her original form, and she was a white-faced fox.
The blockhead could not hold his hand, and brought the rake down on her head. Pitiful — that thousand kinds of smile that could topple a city and topple a kingdom, turned into a hairball's shape of a fox. Pilgrim called out, “Do not smash her up. Keep the body to show the muddled king.”
The blockhead did not mind the filth, but got a grip on her tail and came out of the door after Pilgrim, hauling and dragging. And there was the old Longevity Star with his hand on the deer's head, scolding it: “You wretched beast, how could you turn your back on your master and run off, and become a spirit out here?
“If I had not come, the Great Sage Sun would certainly have beaten you to death.” Pilgrim jumped out and said, “What are you saying, brother?” The Longevity Star said, “I am talking to my deer, I am talking to my deer.”
Bajie flung the dead fox down in front of the deer and said, “I suppose this would be your daughter?” The deer nodded its head and shook it, stretched out its muzzle, sniffed at her several times, and gave a bleating cry, as though it had some clinging attachment it could not let go of.
The Longevity Star fetched it a slap across the head and said, “Cursed beast! It is enough that you have your life. What are you sniffing at her for?”
He undid the sash from his gown, buckled it round the deer's neck, pulled it up and said, “Great Sage, you and I will go to the kingdom of Bhikṣu and be seen.” Pilgrim said, “Wait a moment. We may as well sweep this place clean while we are here, so as to spare it another crop of fiends in years to come.”
Bajie heard him, raised his rake and set about the willows at random. Pilgrim recited the true word 唵 once more, summoned the local god of the place out as before, and said, “Gather some dry brushwood and get a fierce fire going. I will clear this district of its plague of fiends for you, so nobody bullies you again.”
The local god turned about at once, a cold wind came whistling up, he mustered his ghost soldiers and had them fetch quantities of frost-greeting grass, autumn-green grass, knotweed grass, mountain-stamen grass, wormwood brushwood, dragon-bone brushwood and reed-and-rush brushwood — all of it dried right through from the year before, withered and scorched stuff that took fire like grease.
Pilgrim called, “Bajie, there is no need to dig at the trees. Just get this stuff stuffed into the cave, and start the fire, and it will burn the place clean.” The fire went up, and sure enough it turned that whole Clear Splendour fiend-house into a burning pit.
Only then did he dismiss the local god; and with the Longevity Star leading the deer and himself dragging the fox, they went back together to the front of the hall, and he said to the king, “Here is that lovely queen of yours. Would you care to play with her now?” The king was shaking with terror.
Then they saw the Great Sage Sun bringing the Longevity Star along and leading the white deer, and all of them came to the front of the hall; and the ruler, ministers, consorts and queens of that kingdom were so frightened that they bowed down together. Pilgrim came forward, held the king up and said with a laugh, “Never mind bowing to me. This little deer is your Royal Father-in-Law. He is the one you should bow to.”
The king was ashamed beyond words and could only say, “Thanks to the divine monk for saving the children of my whole kingdom. It is truly a mercy from heaven.” He gave the order at once, telling the Court of Imperial Entertainments to lay on a vegetarian banquet and throw open the East Pavilion, and inviting the Old Man of the South Pole and the Tang Monk and his three disciples to sit down together and receive his thanks.
Tripitaka paid his respects to the Longevity Star, and Sha Monk made his greeting too. They all asked, “If the white deer is the old Longevity Star's own creature, how did it manage to get out here and do harm?”
The Longevity Star said with a smile, “Some time ago the Lord Emperor of the Eastern Flower passed by my poor mountain, and I kept him to a game of chess. Before one game was out, this cursed beast had run off. When my guest had gone I looked for him and could not find him, so I reckoned it up on my fingers and knew he had gone off to this place, and came specially to find him — and ran straight into the Great Sage Sun showing his power. If I had come any later, this beast would have been finished.”
Before they had finished talking a report came in: “The banquet is ready.” A fine vegetarian banquet it was:
Five colours filling the doorway, strange scents crowding the seats.
Tables hung with embroidered valances bright as brocade, floors laid with red carpet glinting like sunset cloud.
In the treasure-ducks, aloeswood and sandalwood curling up;
before the imperial spread, vegetable dishes sweet-smelling.
Show-plates with fruit stacked into towers and terraces, dragon-twined sugar in measures, laid out as walking beasts.
Mandarin-duck ingots, lion-immortal sweets, made to look the very part;
parrot cups, egret ladles, shaped as true to life.
Before the mats, fruits of every kind in plenty; on the stands, plain dishes each one exquisite.
Round chestnuts in their cases, fresh lychees and peaches.
Dates and dried persimmons, sweet to the taste; pine nuts and grapes, fragrant with rich wine.
Several sorts of honeyed sweets, a number of kinds of steamed pastry.
Fried in oil and drenched in sugar, heaped in flower-clusters and brocade patterns.
Gold dishes stacked high with great steamed buns, silver bowls filled up with fragrant rice.
Peppery hot soups with long strands of noodle, dish after fragrant dish carried in and changed away.
More than can be told of mushrooms, wood-ear fungus, tender bamboo shoots and yellow-essence root, ten fragrant plain dishes, a hundred flavours of delicacy.
Coming and going they never once stopped moving, advancing and withdrawing with everything laid on in full.
The seating was then settled: the Longevity Star at the head, the elder next, the king in front, and Pilgrim, Bajie and Sha Monk at the sides. At the side there were two or three senior masters to keep them company left and right. He then ordered the Music Bureau to strike up.
The king raised a purple-mist cup and poured for each of them in turn. Only the Tang Monk did not drink. Bajie said to Pilgrim, “Brother, you may have the fruit, but the soups and the rice and so on — those you really must let me have the good of.” The blockhead made no distinction between good and bad but piled in at everything at once, and whatever came he ate it clean away.
When the banquet was over the Longevity Star took his leave. The king came forward again, knelt and bowed to the Longevity Star, and begged him for a method of driving out sickness and lengthening his years.
The Longevity Star said with a smile, “I came out looking for my deer and brought no elixir with me. I would pass on a method of cultivation to you, but your sinews are weakened and your spirit is spent, and you could not return the cinnabar.
“All I have in this sleeve of mine are three dates, which were for serving with tea to the Lord Emperor of the Eastern Flower. I never ate them, and I will give them to you now.” The king swallowed them, and gradually felt his body lighten and the sickness recede. Those who afterwards attained long life all trace it back to this.
Bajie saw it and called out, “Old Longevity, if you have fire-dates, send me a few to eat.” The Longevity Star said, “I did not bring any with me. Another day I will send you a few catties.”
So he came out of the East Pavilion, gave his thanks, called the white deer up with a shout, sprang across its back and rode away on the clouds. The king and queens of that court and the common people of the city all burned incense and bowed, and of that no more need be said.
Tripitaka called, “Disciples, pack up and take leave of the king.” The king pressed them hard to stay and begged for instruction. Pilgrim said, “Your Majesty, from now on be less greedy for the pleasures of the flesh, build up more hidden merit, and in all things make up what is short from what is long. That is enough by itself to drive out sickness and lengthen your years, and it is the whole of the teaching.”
Then he brought out two trays of loose gold and broken silver and offered them for travelling expenses. The Tang Monk firmly declined and would not take a single copper. The king, having no other course, ordered the imperial carriage made ready, invited the Tang Monk to sit in the phoenix chariot and dragon car, and with the queens and consorts pushed at the wheels and turned the hubs himself to see them out of the court.
Along the six avenues and three markets the common people too all filled their cups with clean water and burned true incense in their censers, and saw them out of the city.
“Of a sudden they heard a rush of wind in the middle air, and down along both sides of the road came one thousand one hundred and eleven goose-coops, with small children crying inside them; and unseen there were the guardian city gods, the local gods, the community lords and true officers, the Guardians of the Five Quarters, the Sentinels of the Four Seasons, the Six Ding and Six Jia, the monastery guardians and the rest of them”.
The king, the queens and consorts and every subject of the realm bowed down again. Pilgrim called up into the air, “I am obliged to you, gentlemen. Please go back to your shrines, and I will have the people sacrifice and give you thanks.” With a rushing and a whistling the shadowy wind rose again and withdrew.
Pilgrim called on the households of the city to come and claim their children. The word went round at once, and they all came and each picked out his own child from the coops, delighted, carrying them out and calling them big brother and calling them darling, jumping and jumping, laughing and laughing, and all saying, “Take hold of the Tang gentlemen and bring them to my house so we can thank them for saving our children.”
Big and small, men and women alike, none of them minding how ugly the pilgrims were, they hoisted up Zhu Bajie, they shouldered Sha Monk, they carried the Great Sage Sun on their heads and they bore up Tang Tripitaka, and led the horse and took up the luggage and swept back into the city in one great crowd. And the king could not stop them.
This household laid on a banquet and that household set out a spread. Those who could not get them to come made monks' hats, monks' shoes, short gowns and cloth stockings, inner clothes and outer, garments large and small, and all brought them along as presents.
They were kept hanging about like this for the best part of a month before they managed to get away from the city. There were also spirit-portraits handed down and memorial tablets set up, and people bowed to them and burned incense and made offerings. And this was truly a case of:
Hidden merit piled high, the debt heavy as a mountain: / brought back to life, thousands upon thousands of thousands of people.
In the end there is no telling what may have happened afterwards; and for that, listen to the explanation in the next chapter.