“You must not hit them, Wukong,” said the Tang Priest.
“I haven't hit them,” said Monkey. “If I had, I'd have wiped the lot of them out.” Only then did all the monks rise to their feet. Leading the horse, shouldering the shoulder-poles with the luggage, carrying the Tang Priest, giving Pig a piggyback, and supporting Friar Sand they all went in through the main gates to the abbot's lodgings at the back, where they took their seats in due order.
The monks all started kowtowing again. “Please rise, lord abbot,” Sanzang said. “There is no need for any more kowtows, which are oppressive for a poor monk like me. We are both followers of the Buddhist faith.”
“Your Grace is an Imperial Commissioner,” the abbot replied, “and I failed to greet you properly. You came to our wretched monastery, but when I met you my mortal eyes did not recognize your illustrious status. May I venture to ask, Your Grace, whether you are eating a vegetarian or a meat diet on your journey? We would like to prepare a meal.”
“Vegetarian food,” replied Sanzang.
“And I imagine that these reverend gentlemen,” said the abbot, “like to eat meat.”
“No,” said Monkey. “We are vegetarians, and have been all our lives.”
“Good Heavens,” exclaimed the abbot, “can even creatures like these be vegetarians?”
Then a very bold monk came forward to ask, “Sirs, as you eat vegetarian food, how much rice should we cook for you?”
“Mean little monks,” said Pig, “why ask? Cook us a bushel.” The monks then moved as fast as they could to clean the stoves and the cauldrons and serve food and tea in all the cells. The lamps were hung high and tables and chairs brought to entertain the Tan Priest.
When master and disciples had eaten their supper the monks cleared the things away. Sanzang thanked the abbot: “Lord abbot, we have put your illustrious monastery to great trouble.”
“No, no,” the abbot protested, “we have entertained you very poorly.”
“May my disciples and I spend the night here?” Sanzang asked.
“Don't worry, Your Grace,” the abbot replied, “we will arrange things.” Then he called out, “Are there any lay brothers on duty over there?”
“Yes, reverend sir,” a lay brother replied.
“Then send a couple of them to see to the fodder for His Grace's horse,” the abbot instructed, “and have some sweep out and clean up the front meditation hall. Put beds in there for these venerable gentlemen to sleep in.” The lay brothers did as they had been told and arranged everything, then invited the Tang Priest to go to bed. Master and disciples led the horse and carried their baggage out of the abbot's quarters to the meditation hall. Looking in through the doors they saw the lamp burning brightly and four rattan beds set up at the ends of the room. Monkey told the lay brother who was looking after the fodder to carry it inside, lay it in the meditation hall, and tie up the white horse; the lay brothers were then all dismissed. Sanzang sat in the middle, right under the lamp, while the five hundred monks stood in their two divisions waiting upon him, not daring to leave.
“You may now leave, gentlemen,” said Sanzang, bowing to them from his chair, “as we would like to go to sleep.” But the monks dared not withdraw.
The abbot stepped forward and said to them, “Help Their Graces to bed, then leave.”
“You have done that already,” said Sanzang, “so you may all now go.” Only then did they disperse.
On going outside to relieve himself the Tang Priest saw the moon shining in the sky. He called his disciples, Monkey, Pig and Friar Sand, who came out to stand in attendance. He was moved by the brightness and purity of the moon as it shone from high in the jade firmament, making all in heaven and on earth clearly visible. He recited a long poem in the ancient style in the moonlight with a nostalgic feeling. It went:
A white soul hangs, a mirror in the sky,
Reflected whole in the mountain stream.
Pure light fills the towers of jade,
Cool air swirls round the silver bowls.
The same pure light shines on a thousand miles;
This is the clearest night of the year.
It rises from the sea like a frosty disk,
Hang in the heavens as a wheel of ice.
Sad the lonely traveler by the inn's cold window;
The old man goes to sleep in the village pub.
In the Han garden one is shocked by graying hair;
In the Qin tower the lady prepares herself for bed.
Yu Liang's lines on the moon are recorded by history;
Yuan Hong lay sleepless under the moon in a river boat.
The light that floats in the cup is cold and weak;
The purity shining in the court is strong and full of magic.
At every window are chanted poems to the snow,
In every courtyard the icy crescent is described.
Tonight we share quiet pleasure in the cloister;
When shall we ever all go home together?
Having heard the poem, Monkey went up to him and said, “Master, you only know about the moon's beauty, and you're homesick too. You don't know what the moon's really about. It's like the carpenter's line and compasses-it keeps the heavenly bodies in order. On the thirtieth of every month the metal element of its male soul has all gone, and the water element of its female soul fills the whole disk. That is why it goes black and has no light. That's what is called the end of the old moon. This is the time, between the last day of the old moon and the first of the new, when it mates with the sun. The light makes it conceive. By the third day the first male light is seen, and on the eight day the second male light. When the moon's male and female souls each have half of it, the moon is divided as if by a string. That is why it is called the first quarter. On the fifteenth night, tonight, all three male lights are complete, and the moon is round. This is called the full moon. On the sixteenth the first female principle is born, followed on the twenty-second by the second. At this stage the two souls are matched again and the moon is again divided as if by a string. This is what is called the third quarter. By the thirtieth the three female principles are complete, and it is the last day of the old moon. This is what is meant by 'prenatal absorption and refinement'. If we are all able gently to raise the 'double eight' and achieve it in nine by nine days, it will be easy to see the Buddha and easy to go home again too. As the poem goes:
After the first quarter and before the third,
Medicines taste bland, with all pneuma signs complete.
When it is gathered and refined in the furnace,
The achievement of the will is the Western Heaven.”
On learning this the venerable elder was instantly enlightened and he fully comprehended the truth, and as he thanked Monkey his heart was filled with happiness. Friar Sand laughed as he stood beside them. “What my brother says is true, as far as it goes,” he commented. “In the first quarter the male is dominant, and after the third quarter the female. When male and female are half and half the metal element obtains water. But what he did not say was this:
Fire and water support each other, each with its own fate;
All depend on the Earth Mother to combine them naturally.
The three meet together, without competing;
Water is in the Yangtze River, and the moon on the sky.”
Hearing this removed another obstruction from the venerable elder's mind. Indeed:
When reason fathoms one mystery, a thousand are made clear;