The theory that breaks through non-life leads to immortality.
Whereupon Pig went up to his master, tugged at his clothes, and said, “Pay no attention to all that nonsense, Master. We're missing our sleep. As for that moon, welclass="underline"
Soon after it's defective the moon fills up again,
Just as at birth I too was incomplete.
They complain my belly's too big when I eat,
And say that I drool when I'm holding a bowl.
They are all neat and blessed by cultivation;
I was born stupid and have a baser fate.
You'll achieve the Three Ways of existence by fetching the scriptures,
And go straight up to the Western Heaven with a wag of your tail and your head.”
“That will do,” said Sanzang. “Disciples, you've had a hard journey, so go to bed. I have to read this sutra first.”
“You must be wrong, Master,” said Monkey. “You became a monk when you were very young and know all the surras of your childhood by heart. Now you are going to the Western Heaven on the orders of the Tang Emperor to fetch the true scriptures of the Great Vehicle, but you haven't succeeded yet. You haven't seen the Buddha or got the scriptures. So what sutra will you read?”
“Ever since leaving Chang'an,” Sanzang replied, “I have been travelling in such a rush every day that I have forgotten the scriptures of my youth. As I have some free time tonight I shall relearn them.”
“In that case we'll turn in first,” said Monkey. Each of the three of them went to sleep on his rattan bed while their master closed the door of the meditation hall, turned up the silver lamp, and opened out the scroll of scripture, which he silently read. Indeed:
When the first drum sounds in the tower the people are all silent.
In the fishing boat by the bank the fires have been put out.
If you don't know how the venerable elder left the temple, listen to the explanation in the next installment.
Chapter 37
The Royal Ghost Visits the Tang Priest at Night
Wukong's Magic Transformation Lures the Boy
Sanzang sat in the meditation hall of the Precious Wood Monastery reading the Litany of Emperor Wu of Liang and the Peacock Sutra until the third watch, when he finally put the scriptures back into their bags. Just when he was about to go to bed he heard a rushing noise and the whistling of a fiendish wind. Fearing that it would blow out his lamp, the venerable elder shielded the lamp with his sleeve as quickly as he could. To his consternation the lamp kept going on and off. By now he was so tired that he pillowed his head on the reading desk and took a nap. Although he had closed his eyes and was dozing, his mind stayed wide awake as he listened to the howling of the devil wind outside the window. It was a splendid wind. Indeed, there were
Soughs and whistles,
Much scudding away.
It soughs and whistles, carrying the fallen leaves,
Blows the clouds scudding away.
All the stars in the sky go dark,
And the earth is covered with flying dust.
Sometimes fierce,
Sometimes gentle.
When it blows gentle, pine and bamboo sound clear;
When it blows fierce, the lakes have turbid waves.
The mountain birds grieve, unable to reach their perches;
The fish jump restlessly in the ocean.
Doors and windows blow off the halls,
Spirits and demons glare in the side-rooms.
All the vases in the Buddha hall crash to the ground;
The glass lamp is shaken loose and the flame blows out.
Incense-ash scatters as the burner tilts,
The candles flare when their stand leans over.
All the banners and hangings are torn,
As bell and drum towers are shaken to their roots.
As the wind died down for a while, the elder in his dozy state heard a muffled call of “Master” from outside the meditation hall. He looked up, and in his dream he saw a man standing there soaking wet who was weeping and saying “Master” over and over again.
Sanzang bowed towards him from his seat and said, “You must be a fiend, or a goblin, or an evil spirit or a monster trying to trick me in the middle of the night. But I'm not one given to desire or anger. I'm an upright monk on a pilgrimage to the West at the command of the Tang Emperor of the East to worship the Buddha and fetch the scriptures. I have three disciples who are all demon-quelling, monster-exterminating heroes. If they see you they will smash your body and bones to bits and pulverize you. But I am full of great compassion and will do what is expedient for you. Make yourself scarce this moment and never come into my meditation hall again.”
The person stayed there and replied, “Master, I'm not a demon or a ghost or a fiend or an evil spirit.”
“If you're none of these,” retorted Sanzang, “what are you doing here in the middle of the night?”
“Take a good look at me, Master,” he said. When Sanzang took a really careful look he saw to his surprise that
On his head he wore a heaven-touching hat,
And round his waist a belt of blue-green jade.
Dragons and phoenixes danced on his ochre robe;
His no-worry shoes were embroidered with clouds.
The white jade scepter he held was arrayed with constellations.
His face was like the eternal Emperor of Mount Tai,
His form like Wenchang, god of officialdom.
At the sight of him Sanzang turned pale with shock. He bowed at once and called out at the top of his voice, “Which monarch are you, Your Majesty? Please be seated.” He hurried over to support the monarch, only to find he was holding on to thin air. He looked again and saw that the man was still there.
“Your Majesty,” said Sanzang, “which king are you? What country do you rule? I suppose that you must have fled here in the middle of the night because your country is in chaos or because you are being put upon by malicious ministers. Tell me your story.”
Only then did the man tell what had happened, the tears streaming down his cheeks and his forehead creased with frowns. “Father,” he said, “I live only some fifteen miles to the West of here, in the walled city where my dynasty was founded.”
“What is it called?” Sanzang asked.
“I'm telling you the truth, Father,” he replied. “When I established my regime I changed the name of the state to Wuji.”
“But why is Your Majesty in this terrible distress?” Sanzang continued.
“Father,” the other said, “there was a drought here five years ago so bad that no vegetation grew and the people were dying of starvation. It was appalling.”
Hearing this Sanzang nodded and said with a smile, “Your Majesty, there's an old saying that Heaven favours a well-governed country. I expect that you were not merciful towards your subjects. Even if there is a famine you have no business to flee from your city. Go back, open up your granaries, and give the people relief. Repent of your past sins and be good from now on. Pardon all those who have been wrongly condemned. Heaven's heart will of itself be moved in harmony, and wind and rains will come as they should.”
“But our granaries were empty,” the other said. “We had no money or grain left. The salaries of the officials and the military were in default, and we were eating no meat with our royal meals. We followed the example of Yu the Great when he brought the waters under control, sharing weal and woe with our subjects, taking baths to purify ourself, fasting, burning incense and praying day and night. This went on for three years, but the drought continued to be so bad that the rivers and wells dried up. Just when the crisis was desperate a Quanzhen Taoist wizard came from the Zhongnan Mountains. He could summon wind and rain, and turn stones to gold with a touch. First he went to see our civil and military officials, and then he came to see us. We invited him to come to the altar to pray, and he got results. Wherever he pointed his magic wand there would be a torrential downpour. We thought that three feet of rain would be sufficient, but he said that it would not be enough to restore fertility after so long a time and gave an extra two inches of rain. Seeing how generous he was we kowtowed to him and took him as our sworn brother.”