Monkey fell to the ground in great agony, clutching his head and pleading, “Stop, stop, I swear to return the cassock to you.” The monks, trembling at the sight, begged him to stop, and only then did he shut his mouth and desist.
Monkey leapt to his feet, took his iron cudgel from behind his ear, and was going to hit the monks when Sanzang shouted, “You ape, aren't you afraid of another headache? Are you going to misbehave again? Don't move your hand or hurt anyone. I want you to question them again instead.”
The monks all kowtowed to him and entreated him most pitifully to spare their lives. “We've honestly not seen it. It's all that dead old bastard's fault. After he saw your cassock yesterday evening he cried till late into the night, not even wanting to look at it as he worked out a plan by which it could belong to the monastery for ever. He wanted to burn you to death, masters, but when the fire started, a gale wind blew up, and we were all busy trying to put the blaze out and move away what stuff we could. We don't know where the cassock went.”
Monkey went into the abbot's quarters at the back in a great rage and carried out the corpse of the old monk who had killed himself. When he stripped the body he found no treasures on it, so he dug up the floor of his room to a depth of three feet, again without finding a sign of the cassock. Monkey thought for a moment and then asked, “Are there any monsters turned spirits around here?”
“If you hadn't asked, sir, I'd never have imagined you wanted to know,” the abbot replied. “There is a mountain due South of here called the Black Wind Mountain, and in the Black Wind Cave-on it there lives a Great Black King. That old dead bastard of ours was always discussing the Way with him. There aren't any other evil spirits apart from him.”
“How far is the mountain from here?” Monkey asked.
“Only about seven miles,” the abbot replied. “It's the mountain you can see over there.”
Monkey smiled and said to Sanzang. “Don't worry, master, there's no need to ask any more questions. No doubt about it: it must have been stolen by that black monster.”
“But his place is seven miles from here, so how can you be sure it was him?” Sanzang asked.
“You didn't see the fire last night,” Brother Monkey retorted. “The flames were leaping up hundreds of miles high, and the glow penetrated the triple heavens. You could have seen it seventy miles away, let alone seven. I'm convinced that he saw the glare and took the chance to slip over here quietly. When he saw that our cassock was a treasure, he must have stolen it in the confusion. Just wait while I go and find him.”
“If you go, who's going to protect me?” asked Sanzang.
“Don't worry, gods are watching over you in secret, and in the visible sphere I'll make these monks serve you.” With that he called the community together and said, “I want some of you to go and bury that old ghost, and some of you to serve my master and look after our white horse.” The monks all assented obediently, and Monkey continued, “I won't have you agreeing glibly now but not waiting on them when I've gone. Those of you who look after my master must do so with pleasant expressions on your faces, and those who feed the horse must make sure he gets the right amount of hay and water. If there's the slightest mistake, I'll hit you like this.” He pulled out his cudgel, and smashed a fire-baked brick wall to smithereens; the shock from this shook down seven or eight more walls. At the sight of this the monks' bones turned to jelly, and they knelt down and kowtowed to him with tears pouring down their cheeks.
“Don't worry, master, you can go-we'll look after him. We promise not to show any disrespect.” The splendid Monkey then went straight to the Black Wind Mountain with a leap of his somersault cloud to look for the cassock.
The Golden Cicada left the capital in search of the truth,
Leaning on his staff as he went to the distant West.
Along his route were tigers, leopards and wolves;
Few were the artisans, merchants, or scholars he met.
In a foreign land be encountered a stupid and covetous monk,
And depended entirely on the mighty Great Sage Equaling Heaven.
When fire and wind destroyed the monastery,
A black bear came one night to steal the silken cassock.
If you don't know whether the cassock was found on this journey or how things turned out, listen to the explanation in the next installment.
Chapter 17
Brother Monkey Makes Trouble on the Black Wind Mountain
Guanyin Subdues the Bear Spirit
As Monkey leapt up with a somersault, the senior and junior monks, the novices, the page-boys, and the servants of the monastery all bowed low to the sky and said, “Master, you must be a cloud-riding Immortal come down from Heaven. No wonder that fire can't burn you. Damn that stupid old skinflint of ours: he destroyed himself with his own scheming.”
“Please rise, gentlemen,” replied Sanzang, “there's no need to hate him. If my disciple finds the cassock our troubles will all come to an end; but if he doesn't find it, he has rather a nasty temper and I'm afraid that none of you will escape with your lives.” When they heard this warning, the monks' hearts were in their mouths, and they implored Heaven to let him find the cassock and spare their lives.
Once in mid-air, the Great Sage Sun Wukong reached at the Black Wind Mountain with one twist of his waist. Stopping his cloud while he took a careful look around, he saw that it was indeed a fine mountain. It was a spring day:
The myriad valleys' streams compete,
A thousand precipices vie in beauty.
Where the birds call, no man is;
When the blossoms fall, the trees are still fragrant.
After the rain, the sky and the lowering cliff are moist;
As the pines bend in the wind, they spread an emerald screen.
The mountain herbs grow,
The wild flowers blossom,
Hanging over beetling crags;
The wild fig thrives
And fine trees flourish
On craggy range and flat-topped hill.
You meet no hermits,
And can find no wood-cutters.
Beside the stream a pair of cranes drink,
And wild apes gambol on the rocks.
Peaks like mussel-shells, gleaming black,
Lofty and green as they shine through the mist.
As Monkey was looking at the mountain scenery he heard voices from in front of the grassy slope. He slipped off to conceal himself under the rock-face and take a discreet look. He saw three fiends sitting on the ground. At the head was a dark fellow, to his left was a Taoist, and to his right a white-robed scholar, and they were all talking about lofty and broad matters: about refining cinnabar and mercury with tripods and cauldrons; and about the white snow, mercury, the yellow sprout, lead, and other esoteric teachings.
In the middle of this the dark fellow said, “As it's my birthday tomorrow, I hope you two gentlemen will do me the honour of coming along.”
“We celebrate your birthday every year, Your Majesty,” the white-robed scholar replied, “so of course we shall come this year.”
“I came by a treasure last night,” the dark fellow went on, “a brocade cassock for a Buddha, and it's a wonderful thing. I'm going to give a big banquet for it the day after tomorrow and I'm inviting all you mountain officials to come and congratulate me, which is why I'm calling it a 'Buddha's Robe Banquet.'”
“Wonderful, wonderful,” the Taoist exclaimed with a smile. “Tomorrow I'll come to congratulate you on your birthday, and the day after I'll come again for the banquet.”