第十六回

第十六回 观音院僧谋宝贝 黑风山怪窃袈裟

却说他师徒两个，策马前来，直至山门首观看，果然是一座寺院。但见那：

层层殿阁，叠叠廊房。三山门[1]外，巍巍万道彩云遮；五福堂前，艳艳千条红雾绕。两路松篁，一林桧柏。两路松篁，无年无纪自清幽；一林桧柏，有色有颜随傲丽。又见那钟鼓楼高，浮屠[2]塔峻。安禅僧定性，啼树鸟音关。寂寞无尘真寂寞，清虚有道果清虚。

诗曰：

上刹祇园隐翠窝，招提胜景赛娑婆。

果然净土人间少，天下名山僧占多。

长老下了马，行者歇了担，正欲进门，只见那门里走出一众僧来。你看他怎生模样：

头戴左笄帽，身穿无垢衣。

铜环双坠耳，绢带束腰围。

草履行来稳，木鱼手内提。

口中常作念，般若总皈依。

三藏见了，侍立门旁，道个问讯。那和尚连忙答礼，笑道：“失瞻。”问是那里来的？请入方丈献茶。三藏道：“我弟子乃东土钦差，上雷音寺拜佛求经。至此处天色将晚，欲借上刹一宵。”那和尚道：“请进里坐，请进里坐。”三藏方唤行者牵马进来。那和尚忽见行者相貌，有些害怕，便问：“那牵马的是个甚么东西？”三藏道：“悄言！悄言！他的性愚，若听见你说是甚么东西，他就恼了。——他是我的徒弟。”那和尚打了个寒噤，咬着指头道：“这般一个丑头怪脑的，好招他做徒弟！”三藏道：“你看不出来哩，丑自丑，甚是有用。”

那和尚只得同三藏与行者进了山门。山门里，又见那正殿上书四个大字，是“观音禅院”。三藏又大喜道：“弟子屡感菩萨圣恩，未及叩谢；今遇禅院，就如见菩萨一般，甚好拜谢。”那和尚闻言，即命道人开了殿门，请三藏朝拜。那行者拴了马，丢了行李，同三藏上殿。三藏展背舒身，铺胸纳地，望金像叩头。那和尚便去打鼓，行者就去撞钟。三藏俯伏台前，倾心祷祝。祝拜已毕，那和尚住了鼓，行者还只管撞钟不歇，或紧或慢，撞了许久。那道人道：“拜已毕了，还撞怎么？”行者方丢了钟杵，笑道：“你那里晓得！我这是‘做一日和尚撞一日钟’的。”此时却惊动那寺里大小僧人、上下房长老，听得钟声乱响，一齐拥出道：“那个野人在这里乱敲钟鼓？”行者跳将出来，咄的一声道：“是你孙外公撞了耍子的！”那些和尚一见了，唬得跌跌滚滚，都爬在地下道：“雷公爷爷！”行者道：“雷公是我的重孙儿哩！起来，起来，不要怕！我们是东土大唐来的老爷。”众僧方才礼拜，见了三藏，都才放心不怕。内有本寺院主请道：“老爷们到后方丈中奉茶。”遂而解缰牵马，抬了行李，转过正殿，径入后房，序了坐次。

那院主献了茶，又安排斋供。天光尚早。三藏称谢未毕，只见那后面有两个小童，搀着一个老僧出来。看他怎生打扮：

头上戴一顶毗卢方帽，猫睛石的宝顶光辉；身上穿一领锦绒褊衫，翡翠毛的金边晃亮。一对僧鞋攒八宝，一根拄杖嵌云星。满面皱痕，好似骊山老母[3]；一双昏眼，却如东海龙君。口不关风因齿落，腰驼背屈为筋挛。

众僧道：“师祖来了。”三藏躬身施礼迎接，道：“老院主，弟子拜揖。”那老僧还了礼，又各叙坐。老僧道：“适间小的们说，东土唐朝来的老爷，我才出来奉见。”三藏道：“轻造宝山，不知好歹，恕罪！恕罪！”老僧道：“不敢！不敢！”因问：“老爷，东土到此，有多少路程？”三藏道：“出长安边界，有五千馀里；过两界山，收了一众小徒，一路来，行过西番哈泌国，经两个月，又有五六千里，才到了贵处。”老僧道：“也有万里之遥了。我弟子虚度一生，山门也不曾出去，诚所谓‘坐井观天’，樗朽[4]之辈。”三藏又问：“老院主高寿几何？”老僧道：“痴长二百七十岁了。”行者听见道：“这还是我万代孙儿哩！”三藏瞅了他一眼道：“谨言！莫要不识高低，冲撞人。”那和尚便问：“老爷，你有多少年纪了？”行者道：“不敢说。”那老僧也只当一句风话，便不介意，也再不问，只叫献茶。有一个小幸童[5]，拿出一个羊脂玉的盘儿，有三个法蓝镶金的茶钟；又一童，提一把白铜壶儿，斟了三杯香茶。真个是色欺榴蕊艳，味胜桂花香。三藏见了，夸爱不尽道：“好物件！好物件！真是美食美器！”那老僧道：“污眼！污眼！老爷乃天朝上国，广览奇珍，似这般器具，何足过奖？老爷自上邦来，可有甚么宝贝，借与弟子一观？”三藏道：“可怜！我那东土，无甚宝贝；就有时，路程遥远，也不能带得。”

行者在旁道：“师父，我前日在包袱里，曾见那领袈裟，不是件宝贝？拿与他看看何如？”众僧听说袈裟，一个个冷笑。行者道：“你笑怎的？”院主道：“老爷才说袈裟是件宝贝，言实可笑。若说袈裟，似我等辈者，不上二三十件；若论我师祖，在此处做了二百五六十年和尚，足有七八百件！”叫：“拿出来看看。”那老和尚，也是他一时卖弄，便叫道人开库房，头陀抬柜子，就抬出十二柜，放在天井中，开了锁，两边设下衣架，四围牵了绳子，将袈裟一件件抖开挂起，请三藏观看。果然是满堂绮绣，四壁绫罗！

行者一一观之，都是些穿花纳锦[6]，刺绣销金之物，笑道：“好，好，好！收起！收起！把我们的也取出来看看。”三藏把行者扯住，悄悄的道：“徒弟，莫要与人斗富。你我是单身在外，只恐有错。”行者道：“看看袈裟，有何差错？”三藏道：“你不曾理会得。古人有云：‘珍奇玩好之物，不可使见贪婪奸伪之人。’倘若一经人目，必动其心；既动其心，必生其计。汝是个畏祸的，索之而必应其求，可也；不然，则殒身灭命，皆起于此。事不小矣。”行者道：“放心！放心！都在老孙身上！”你看他不由分说，急急的走了去，把个包袱解开，早有霞光迸迸；尚有两层油纸裹定，去了纸，取出袈裟，抖开时，红光满室，彩气盈庭。众僧见了，无一个不心欢口赞。真个好袈裟！上头有：

千般巧妙明珠坠，万样稀奇佛宝攒。

上下龙须铺彩绮，兜罗四面锦沿边。

体挂魍魉从此灭，身披魑魅入黄泉。

托化天仙亲手制，不是真僧不敢穿。

那老和尚见了这般宝贝，果然动了奸心，走上前对三藏跪下，眼中垂泪道：“我弟子真是没缘！”三藏搀起道：“老院师有何话说？”他道：“老爷这件宝贝，方才展开，天色晚了，奈何眼目昏花，不能看得明白，岂不是无缘！”三藏教：“掌上灯来，让你再看。”那老僧道：“爷爷的宝贝，已是光亮；再点了灯，一发幌眼，莫想看得仔细。”行者道：“你要怎的看才好？”老僧道：“老爷若是宽恩放心，教弟子拿到后房，细细的看一夜，明早送还老爷西去，不知尊意何如？”三藏听说，吃了一惊，埋怨行者道：“都是你！都是你！”行者笑道：“怕他怎的？等我包起来，等他拿了去看。但有疏虞[7]，尽是老孙管整[8]。”那三藏阻挡不住。他把袈裟递与老僧道：“凭你看去。只是明早照旧还我，不得损污些须。”老僧喜喜欢欢，着幸童将袈裟拿进去，却分付众僧：“将前面禅堂扫净，取两张藤床，安设铺盖，请二位老爷安歇。”一壁厢又教安排明早斋送行，遂而各散。师徒们关了禅堂，睡下不题。

却说那和尚把袈裟骗到手，拿在后房灯下，对袈裟号跳痛哭，慌得那本寺僧不敢先睡。小幸童也不知为何，却去报与众僧道：“公公哭到二更时候，还不歇声。”有两个徒孙，是他心爱之人，上前问道：“师公，你哭怎的？”老僧道：“我哭无缘，看不得唐僧宝贝！”小和尚道：“公公年纪高大，发过了。他的袈裟放在你面前，你只消解开看便罢了，何须痛哭？”老僧道：“看的不长久。我今年二百七十岁，空挣了几百件袈裟。怎么得有他这一件？怎么得做个唐僧？”小和尚道：“师公差了。唐僧乃是离乡避井的一个行脚僧。你这等年高，享用也够了，倒要像他做行脚僧，何也？”老僧道：“我虽是坐家自在，乐乎晚景，却不得他这袈裟穿穿。若教我穿得一日儿，就死也闭眼，也是我来阳世间为僧一场！”众僧道：“好没正经！你要穿他的，有何难处？我们明日留他住一日，你就穿他一日；留他住十日，你就穿他十日，便罢了。何苦这般痛哭？”老僧道：“总然留他住了年载，也只穿得年载，到底也不得气长。他要去时，只得与他去，怎生留得长远？”

正说话处，有一个小和尚名唤广智，出头道：“公公，要得长远也容易。”老僧闻言，就欢喜起来道：“我儿，你有甚么高见？”广智道：“那唐僧两个是走路的人，辛苦之甚，如今已睡着了。我们想几个有力量的，拿了枪刀，打开禅堂，将他杀了，把尸首埋在后园，只我一家知道，却又谋了他的白马、行囊，却把那袈裟留下，以为传家之宝，岂非子孙长久之计耶？”老和尚见说，满心欢喜，却才揩了眼泪道：“好！好！好！此计绝妙！”即便收拾枪刀。

内中又一个小和尚，名唤广谋，就是那广智的师弟，上前来道：“此计不妙。若要杀他，须要看看动静。那个白脸的似易，那个毛脸的似难。万一杀他不得，却不反招己祸？我有一个不动刀枪之法，不知你尊意如何？”老僧道：“我儿，你有何法？”广谋道：“依小孙之见，如今唤聚东山大小房头[9]，每人要干柴一束，舍了那三间禅堂，放起火来，教他欲走无门，连马一火焚之。就是山前山后人家看见，只说是他自不小心走了火，将我禅堂都烧了。那两个和尚，却不都烧死？又好掩人耳目。袈裟岂不是我们传家之宝？”那些和尚闻言，无不欢喜，都道：“强！强！强！此计更妙！更妙！”遂教各房头搬柴来。咦！这一计，正是弄得个高寿老僧该尽命，观音禅院化为尘！原来他那寺里，有七八十个房头，大小有二百馀众。当夜一拥搬柴，把个禅堂前前后后，四面围绕不通，安排放火不题。

却说三藏师徒，安歇已定。那行者却是个灵猴，虽然睡下，只是存神炼气，朦胧着醒眼。忽听得外面不住的人走，喳喳的柴响风生。他心疑惑道：“此时夜静，如何有人行得脚步之声？莫敢是贼盗，谋害我们的？……”他就一骨鲁[10]跳起。欲要开门出看，又恐惊醒师父。你看他弄个精神，摇身一变，变做一个蜜蜂儿。真个是：

口甜尾毒，腰细身轻。穿花度柳飞如箭，粘絮寻香似落星。小小微躯能负重，嚣嚣薄翅会乘风。却自椽棱下，钻出看分明。

只见那众僧们搬柴运草，已围住禅堂放火哩。行者暗笑道：“果依我师父之言！他要害我们性命，谋我的袈裟，故起这等毒心。我待要拿棍打他呵，可怜又不禁打，一顿棍都打死了，师父又怪我行凶。——罢，罢，罢！与他个顺手牵羊，将计就计，教他住不成罢！”好行者，一筋斗跳上南天门里，唬得个庞、刘、苟、毕躬身，马、赵、温、关控背，俱道：“不好了！不好了！那闹天宫的主子又来了！”行者摇着手道：“列位免礼，休惊。我来寻广目天王的。”

说不了，却遇天王早到，迎着行者道：“久阔，久阔。前闻得观音菩萨来见玉帝，借了四值功曹、六丁六甲并揭谛等，保护唐僧往西天取经去，说你与他做了徒弟，今日怎么得闲到此？”行者道：“且休叙阔。唐僧路遇歹人放火烧他，事在万分紧急，特来寻你借辟火罩儿，救他一救。快些拿来使使，即刻返上。”天王道：“你差了！既是歹人放火，只该借水救他，如何要辟火罩？”行者道：“你那里晓得就里[11]：借水救之，却烧不起来，倒相应[12]了他；只是借此罩，护住了唐僧无伤，其馀管他，尽他烧去。快些！快些！此时恐已无及。莫误了我下边干事！”那天王笑道：“这猴子还是这等起不善之心，只顾了自家，就不管别人。”行者道：“快着！快着！莫要调嘴，害了大事！”那天王不敢不借，遂将罩儿递与行者。

行者拿了，按着云头，径到禅堂房脊上，罩住了唐僧与白马、行李。他却去那后面老和尚住的方丈房上头坐着，意护那袈裟。看那些人放起火来，他转捻诀念咒，望巽地上吸一口气吹将去，一阵风起，把那火转刮得烘烘乱着。好火！好火！但见：

黑烟漠漠，红焰腾腾。黑烟漠漠，长空不见一天星；红焰腾腾，大地有光千里赤。起初时，灼灼金蛇；次后来，威威血马。南方三炁[13]逞英雄，回禄[14]大神施法力。燥干柴烧烈火性，说甚么燧人钻木；熟油门前飘彩焰，赛过了老祖开炉。正是那无情火发，怎禁这有意行凶；不去弭灾，返行助虐。风随火势，焰飞有千丈馀高；火趁风威，灰迸上九霄云外。乒乒乓乓，好便似残年爆竹；泼泼喇喇，却就如军中炮声。烧得那当场佛像莫能逃，东院伽蓝无处躲。胜如赤壁夜鏖兵，赛过阿房宫内火！

这正是星星之火，能烧万顷之田。须臾间，风狂火盛，把一座观音院，处处通红。你看那众和尚，搬箱抬笼，抢桌端锅，满院里叫苦连天。孙行者护住了后边方丈，辟火罩罩住了前面禅堂，其馀前后火光大发，真个是照天红焰辉煌，透壁金光照耀！

不期火起之时，惊动了一山兽怪。这观音院正南二十里远近有座黑风山，山中有一个黑风洞，洞中有一个妖精，正在睡醒翻身。只见那窗门透亮，只道是天明。起来看时，却是正北下的火光晃亮，妖精大惊道：“呀！这必是观音院里失了火！这些和尚好不小心！我看时，与他救一救来。”好妖精，纵起云头，即至烟火之下，果然冲天之火，前面殿宇皆空，两廊烟火方灼。他大拽步撞将进去，正呼唤教取水来，只见那后房无火，房脊上有一人放风。他却情知如此，急入里面看时，见那方丈中间有些霞光彩气，台案上有一个青毡包袱。他解开一看，见是一领锦襕袈裟，乃佛门之异宝。正是财动人心，他也不救火，他也不叫水，拿着那袈裟，趁哄打劫，拽回云步，径转东山而去。

那场火只烧到五更天明，方才灭息。你看那众僧们，赤赤精精，啼啼哭哭，都去那灰内寻铜铁，拨腐炭，扑金银。有的在墙筐里，苫搭窝棚；有的赤壁根头，支锅造饭；叫冤叫屈，乱嚷乱闹不题。

却说行者取了辟火罩，一筋斗送上南天门，交与广目天王道：“谢借！谢借！”天王收了道：“大圣至诚了。我正愁你不还我的宝贝，无处寻讨，且喜就送来也。”行者道：“老孙可是那当面骗物之人？这叫做‘好借好还，再借不难’。”天王道：“许久不面，请到宫少坐一时，何如？”行者道：“老孙比在前不同，‘烂板凳，高谈阔论’了；如今保唐僧，不得身闲。容叙！容叙！”急辞别坠云，又见那太阳星上。径来到禅堂前，摇身一变，变做个蜜蜂儿，飞将进去，现了本像看时，那师父还沉睡哩。

行者叫道：“师父，天亮了，起来罢。”三藏才醒觉，翻身道：“正是。”穿了衣服，开门出来，忽抬头，只见些倒壁红墙，不见了楼台殿宇，大惊道：“呀！怎么这殿宇俱无？都是红墙，何也？”行者道：“你还做梦哩！今夜走了火的。”三藏道：“我怎不知？”行者道：“是老孙护了禅堂，见师父浓睡，不曾惊动。”三藏道：“你有本事护了禅堂，如何就不救别房之火？”行者笑道：“好教师父得知，果然依你昨日之言，他爱上我们的袈裟，算计要烧杀我们。若不是老孙知觉，到如今皆成灰骨矣！”三藏闻言，害怕道：“是他们放的火么？”行者道：“不是他是谁？”三藏道：“莫不是怠慢了你，你干的这个勾当？”行者道：“老孙是这等惫懒之人，干这等不良之事？实实是他家放的。老孙见他心毒，果是不曾与他救火，只是与他略略助些风的。”三藏道：“天那！天那！火起时，只该助水，怎转助风？”行者道：“你可知古人云：‘人没伤虎心，虎没伤人意。’他不弄火，我怎肯弄风？”三藏道：“袈裟何在？敢莫是烧坏了也？”行者道：“没事！没事！烧不坏！那放袈裟的方丈无火。”三藏恨道：“我不管你！但是有些儿伤损，我只把那话儿念动念动，你就是死了！”行者慌了道：“师父，莫念！莫念！管寻还你袈裟就是了。等我去拿来走路。”三藏才牵着马，行者挑了担，出了禅堂，径往后方丈去。

却说那些和尚，正悲切间，忽的看见他师徒牵马挑担而来，唬得一个个魂飞魄散，道：“冤魂索命来了！”行者喝道：“甚么冤魂索命？快还我袈裟来！”众僧一齐跪倒，叩头道：“爷爷呀！冤有冤家，债有债主。要索命不干我们事，都是广谋与老和尚定计害你的，莫问我们讨命。”行者咄的一声道：“我把你这些该死的畜生！那个问你讨甚么命！只拿袈裟来还我走路！”其间有两个胆量大的和尚道：“老爷，你们在禅堂里已烧死了，如今又来讨袈裟，端的还是人，是鬼？”行者笑道：“这伙业畜！那里有甚么火来？你去前面看看禅堂，再来说话！”众僧们爬起来往前观看，那禅堂外面的门窗槅扇，更不曾燎灼了半分。众人悚惧，才认得三藏是位神僧，行者是尊护法，一齐上前叩头道：“我等有眼无珠，不识真人下界！你的袈裟在后面方丈中老师祖处哩。”三藏行过了三五层败壁破墙，嗟叹不已。只见方丈果然无火。众僧抢入里面，叫道：“公公！唐僧乃是神人，未曾烧死，如今反害了自己家当！趁早拿出袈裟，还他去也。”

原来这老和尚寻不见袈裟，又烧了本寺的房屋，正在万分烦恼焦燥之处，一闻此言，怎敢答应？因寻思无计，进退无方，拽开步，躬着腰，往那墙上着实撞了一头，可怜只撞得脑破血流魂魄散，咽喉气断染红沙！有诗为证。诗曰：

堪叹老衲性愚蒙，枉作人间一寿翁。

欲得袈裟传远世，岂知佛宝不凡同！

但将容易为长久，定是萧条取败功。

广智广谋成甚用？损人利己一场空！

慌得个众僧哭道：“师公已撞杀了，又不见袈裟，怎生是好？”行者道：“想是汝等盗藏起也！都出来！开具花名手本，等老孙逐一查点！”那上下房的院主，将本寺和尚、头陀、幸童、道人尽行开具手本二张，大小人等，共计二百三十名。行者请师父高坐，他却一一从头唱名搜检，都要解放衣襟，分明点过，更无袈裟。又将那各房头搬抢出去的箱笼物件，从头细细寻遍，那里得有踪迹。三藏心中烦恼，懊恨行者不尽，却坐在上面念动那咒。行者扑的跌倒在地，抱着头，十分难禁，只教：“莫念！莫念！管寻还了袈裟！”那众僧见了，一个个战兢兢的上前跪下劝解，三藏才合口不念。行者一骨鲁跳起来，耳朵里掣出铁棒，要打那些和尚，被三藏喝住道：“这猴头！你头痛还不怕，还要无礼？休动手！且莫伤人！再与我审问一问！”众僧们磕头礼拜，哀告三藏道：“老爷饶命！我等委实的不曾看见。这都是那老死鬼的不是。他昨晚看着你的袈裟，只哭到更深时候，看也不曾敢看，思量要图长久，做个传家之宝，设计定策，要烧杀老爷。自火起之候，狂风大作，各人只顾救火，搬抢物件，更不知袈裟去向。”

行者大怒，走进方丈屋里，把那老死鬼尸首抬出，选剥[15]了细看，浑身更无那件宝贝，就把个方丈掘地三尺，也无踪影。行者忖量半晌，问道：“你这里可有甚么妖怪成精么？”院主道：“老爷不问，莫想得知。我这里正东南有座黑风山。黑风洞内有一个黑大王。我这老死鬼常与他讲道。他便是个妖精。别无甚物。”行者道：“那山离此有多远近？”院主道：“只有二十里。那望见山头的就是。”行者笑道：“师父放心，不须讲了，一定是那黑怪偷去无疑。”三藏道：“他那厢离此有二十里，如何就断得是他？”行者道：“你不曾见夜间那火，光腾万里，亮透三天，且休说二十里，就是二百里也照见了！坐定是他见火光焜耀，趁着机会，暗暗的来到这里，看见我们袈裟是件宝贝，必然趁哄掳去也。等老孙去寻他一寻。”三藏道：“你去了时，我却何倚？”行者道：“这个放心，暗中自有神灵保护，明中等我叫那些和尚伏侍。”即唤众和尚过来，道：“汝等着几个去埋那老鬼，着几个伏侍我师父，看守我白马！”众僧领诺。行者又道：“汝等莫顺口儿答应，等我去了，你就不来奉承。看师父的，要怡颜悦色；养白马的，要水草调匀；假有一毫儿差了，照依这个样棍，与你们看看！”他掣出棍子，照那火烧的砖墙扑的一下，把那墙打得粉碎，又震倒了有七八层墙。众僧见了，个个骨软身麻，跪着磕头滴泪道：“爷爷宽心前去，我等竭力虔心，供奉老爷，决不敢一毫怠慢！”好行者，急纵筋斗云，径上黑风山，寻找这袈裟。正是那：

金禅求正出京畿，仗锡[16]投西涉翠微。

虎豹狼虫行处有，工商士客见时稀。

路逢异国愚僧妒，全仗齐天大圣威。

火发风生禅院废，黑熊夜盗锦襕衣。

毕竟此去不知袈裟有无，吉凶如何，且听下回分解。

[1] 三山门：又称“三门”，“山门”，佛教寺院的大门。因佛教观念中有三解脱门，即空门、无相门和无作门，故寺院大门一般开三个门以表象征意义。但也有寺院只开一门也称“三门”，表示同样的喻意。

[2] 浮屠：梵语译音。就是塔。也作浮图。

[3] 骊山老母：又作梨山老母。我国神话传说中的女仙之一。

[4] 樗（chū）朽：樗，臭椿树。樗朽，不成材的自谦词。

[5] 幸童：贴身的僮仆。

[6] 纳锦：一种用穿纱方法做的刺绣。

[7] 疏虞：疏忽，疏漏，考虑不周到。

[8] 管整：包办、负责到底的意思。

[9] 房头：僧人师徒相传而形成的支系，一个支系就称一个房头。

[10] 一骨鲁：形容翻身一滚。后文第二十一回作一毂辘。毂辘，车轮。有时也作一碌。

[11] 就里：底细。

[12] 相应：便宜、合算、划得来。

[13] 南方三炁（qì）：即道教的火神。

[14] 回禄：上古传说中的火神。

[15] 选剥：强行剥脱。

[16] 仗锡：拄着锡杖。仗，通“杖”。

CHAPTER 16. At Guanyin Hall the monks plot for the treasure; At Black Wind Mountain a monster steals the cassock.

We were telling you about the disciple and master, who urged the horse forward and arrived at the front gate of the building. They saw that it was indeed a monastery with

Tiers of towers and turrets,

And rows of quiet chambers.

Above the temple gate

Hung the august panoply of colored nimbus;

Before the Hall of Five Blessings

Whirled a thousand strands of bright red mists.

Two rows of pines and bamboos;

One grove of juniper and cypress;

Two rows of pines and bamboos

Revealed their fair virtue unspoiled by time;

One grove of juniper and cypress

Displayed its chaste beauty in comely hues.

They saw also the tall bell tower,

The pagoda rugged,

Monks in silent meditation

And birds on trees gently cooing.

A dustless seclusion was the real seclusion,

For the quiescence of Dao was truly quiescent.

The poem says:

This temple, like Jetavana, hides in a jade-green grove.

Its beauty surpasses even the Ṣaḍ-varṣa.1

Pure land among mankind is rare indeed:

This world’s famed mountains are mostly held by monks.

The priest dismounted, and Pilgrim laid down his load. They were about to walk through the gate when a monk came out. “How does he look?” you ask.

He wore a hat pinned to the left

And a robe most spotlessly pure.

Two brass rings hung from his ears;

A silk sash was wrapped round his waist.

His straw sandals moved sedately;

His hands carried a wooden fish.

His mouth recited constantly

The Wisdom he sought most humbly.

When Tripitaka saw him, he stood waiting by the gate and saluted with his palms pressed together in front of him. The monk returned the greeting at once and said laughing, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know you!” He then asked, “Where do you come from? Please come in for some tea.” “Your disciple,” said Tripitaka, “has been sent by royal decree from the Land of the East to go to seek scriptures from Buddha in the Temple of Thunderclap. It was getting late when we arrived here, and we would like to ask for a night’s lodging in your fair temple.” “Please take a seat inside,” said the monk. Only then did Tripitaka call Pilgrim to lead the horse inside. When the monk caught sight of Pilgrim’s face, he became somewhat afraid and asked, “What’s that thing leading the horse?” “Speak softly!” said Tripitaka. “He’s easily provoked! If he hears you referring to him as a thing, he’ll get mad. He happens to be my disciple.” With a shiver, the monk bit his finger and said, “Such a hideous creature, and you made him your disciple!” Tripitaka said, “You can’t tell by mere appearance. He may be ugly, but he is very useful.”

That monk had little choice but to accompany Tripitaka and Pilgrim as they entered the temple gate. Inside, above the main hall’s entrance, the words “Guanyin Chan Hall” were written in large letters. Highly pleased, Tripitaka said, “This disciple has repeatedly benefited from the holy grace of the Bodhisattva, though he has had no opportunity to thank her. Now that we are at this Chan hall, it is as if we are meeting the Bodhisattva personally, and it is most proper that I should offer my thanks.” When the monk heard this, he told one of the attendants to open wide the door of the hall and invited Tripitaka to worship. Pilgrim tied up the horse, dropped his luggage, and went with Tripitaka up the hall. Stretching his back and then flattening himself on the ground, Tripitaka kowtowed to the golden image as the monk went to beat the drum, and Pilgrim began to strike the bell. Prostrating himself before the seat of the deity, Tripitaka poured out his heart in prayer. When he finished, the monk stopped the drum, but Pilgrim continued to strike the bell without ceasing. Now rapidly, now slowly, he persisted for a long time. The attendant said, “The service is over. Why are you still striking the bell?” Only then did Pilgrim throw away the hammer and say, laughing, “You wouldn’t know this! I’m just living by the proverb: ‘If you are a monk for a day, strike then the bell for a day!’”2

By then, the monks young and old of the monastery and the elders of upper and lower chambers were all aroused by the unruly sound of the bell. They rushed out together crying, “Who is the maniac fooling with the bell?” Pilgrim leaped out of the hall and shouted, “Your Grandpa Sun sounded it to amuse himself!” The moment the monks saw him, they were so frightened that they tumbled and rolled on the ground. Crawling around, they said, “Father Thunder!” “He’s only my great-grandson!” said Pilgrim. “Get up, get up! Don’t be afraid. We are noble priests who have come from the Great Tang Nation in the east.” The various monks then bowed courteously to him, and when they saw Tripitaka, they were even more reassured. One of the monks, who was the abbot of the monastery, said, “Let the holy fathers come to the living room in the back so that we may offer them some tea.” Untying the reins and leading the horse, they picked up the luggage and went past the main hall to the back of the monastery, where they sat down in orderly rows.

After serving tea, the abbot prepared a vegetarian meal, although it was still rather early for dinner. Tripitaka had not finished thanking him when an old monk emerged from the rear, supported by two boys. Look how he was attired:

He wore on his head a Vairocana hat

Topped by a precious, shining cat’s-eye stone;

He wore on his body a brocaded woolen frock,

Piped brilliantly in gold and kingfisher feathers.

A pair of monk shoes on which Eight Treasures were set,

And a priestly staff encased with starry gems.

His face full of wrinkles,

He looked like the Old Witch of Li Mountain;

His eyes were dim-sighted,

Though he seemed a Dragon King of the Eastern Ocean.

Wind stabbed his mouth for his teeth had fallen,

And palsy had made crooked his aged back.

The various monks made the announcement: “The Patriarch is here.” Tripitaka bowed to receive him, saying, “Old Abbot, your disciple bows to you.” The old monk returned the gesture, and they were both seated. “Just now I heard the little ones announcing,” said the old monk, “that venerable fathers from the Tang court have arrived from the east. I came out specifically to meet you.” “Without knowing any better,” said Tripitaka, “we intruded into your esteemed temple. Please pardon us!” “Please, please!” said the old monk. “May I ask the holy father what the distance is between here and the Land of the East?” “Since leaving the outskirts of Chang’an,” said Tripitaka, “I traveled for some five thousand miles before passing the Mountain of Two Frontiers, where I picked up a little disciple. Moving on, we passed through the Hamil Kingdom of the western barbarians, and in two months we had traveled another five or six thousand miles. Only then did we arrive at your noble region.” “Well, you have covered the distance of ten thousand miles,” said the old monk. “This disciple truly has spent his life in vain, for he has not even left the door of the temple. I have, as the saying goes, ‘sat in the well to look at the sky.’ A veritable piece of dead wood!”

Then Tripitaka asked, “What is the honorable age of the Old Abbot?” “Foolishly I have reached my two hundred and seventieth year,” said the old monk. When Pilgrim heard this, he said, “You are only my descendant of the ten-thousandth generation!” “Careful!” said Tripitaka, looking at him sternly. “Don’t offend people with your brashness!” “And you, Elder,” asked the old monk, “how old are you?” “I dare not tell,” said Pilgrim. That old monk thought it was just a foolish remark; he paid no further attention, nor did he ask again. Instead, he called for tea to be served, and a young cleric brought out a tray made of milk-white jade on which there were three cloisonné cups with gold edges. Another youth brought out a white copper pot and poured three cups of scented tea, truly more colorful than camellia buds and more fragrant than cassia flowers. When Tripitaka saw these, he could not cease making compliments, saying, “What marvelous things! What marvelous things! A lovely drink, indeed, and lovely utensils!” “Most disgraceful stuff!” said the old monk. “The holy father resides in the heavenly court of a great nation, and he has witnessed all kinds of rare treasures. Things like these are not worthy of your praise. Since you have come from a noble state, do you have any precious thing you can show me?” “It’s pathetic!” said Tripitaka. “We have no precious thing in the Land of the East; and even if we had, I could not bring it with me because of the distance.”

From the side, Pilgrim said, “Master, I saw a cassock the other day in our bag. Isn’t that a treasure? Why not take it out and show it to him?” When the other monks heard him mentioning a cassock, they all began to snicker. “What are you laughing at?” asked Pilgrim. The abbot said, “To say that a cassock is a treasure, as you just did, is certainly laughable. If you want to talk about cassocks, priests like us would possess more than twenty or thirty such garments. Take the case of our Patriarch, who has been a monk here for some two hundred and fifty years. He has over seven hundred of them!” He then made the suggestion: “Why not take them out for these people to see?” That old monk certainly thought it was his show this time! He asked the attendants to open up the storage room and the dhūtas to bring out the chests. They brought out twelve of them and set them down in the courtyard. The padlocks were unlocked; clothes racks were set up on both sides, and ropes were strung all around. One by one, the cassocks were shaken loose and hung up for Tripitaka to see. It was truly a roomful of embroidery, four walls of exquisite silk!

Glancing at them one by one, Pilgrim saw that they were all pieces of fine silk intricately woven and delicately embroidered, splashed with gold. He laughed and said, “Fine! Fine! Fine! Now pack them up! Let’s take ours out for you to look at.” Pulling Pilgrim aside, Tripitaka said softly, “Disciple, don’t start a contest of wealth with other people. You and I are strangers away from home, and this may be a mistake!” “Just a look at the cassock,” said Pilgrim, “how can that be a mistake?” “You haven’t considered this,” said Tripitaka. “As the ancients declared, ‘The rare object of art should not be exposed to the covetous and deceitful person.’ For once he sees it, he will be tempted; and once he is tempted, he will plot and scheme. If you are timid, you may end up yielding to his every demand; otherwise, injury and loss of life may result, and that’s no small matter.” “Relax! Relax!” said Pilgrim. “Old Monkey will assume all responsibility!” Look at him! He did not permit any further discussion! Darting away, he untied the bag, and brilliant rays at once came flashing through the two layers of oil-paper in which the garment was wrapped. He discarded the paper and took out the cassock. As he shook it loose, a crimson light flooded the room and glorious air filled the courtyard. When the various monks saw it, none could suppress the admiration in his heart and the praise on his lips. It was truly a magnificent cassock! It has hanging on it

Sparkling pearls—marvelous in every way—

And Buddha’s treasures in each aspect rare.

Up and down spreads grapevine3 weave on gorgeous silk;

On every side are hems of fine brocade.

Put it on, and goblins will then be slain.

Step in it, and demons will flee to Hell.

It’s made by those hands of gods incarnate;

He who’s not a true monk dares not wear it.

When the old monk saw a treasure of such quality, he was indeed moved to villainy. Walking forward, he knelt down before Tripitaka, and tears began to fall from his eyes. “This disciple truly has no luck,” he said. “Old Abbot,” said Tripitaka, raising him up, “what do you mean?” “It was already getting late,” he said, “when the venerable father spread this treasure out. But my eyes are dim and I can’t see clearly. Isn’t this my misfortune?” “Bring out the lamps,” said Tripitaka, “and you can take a better look.” The old monk said, “The treasure of the father is already dazzling; if we light the lamps, it will become much too bright for my eyes, and I’ll never be able to see it properly.” “How would you like to see it?” asked Pilgrim. “If the venerable father is inclined to be gracious,” replied the old monk, “please permit me to take it back to my room, where I can spend the night looking at it carefully. Tomorrow I shall return it to you before you continue your journey to the west. How would that be?” Startled, Tripitaka began to complain to Pilgrim, saying, “It’s all your doing! It’s all your doing!” “What are you afraid of ?” said Pilgrim, laughing. “Let me wrap it up and he can take it away. If there’s any mishap, old Monkey will take care of it.” Tripitaka could not stop him; he handed the cassock over to the monk, saying, “You may look at it, but you must give it back tomorrow morning, just as it is. Don’t spoil or damage it in any way!” The old monk was very pleased. After telling the young cleric to take the cassock inside, he gave instructions for the various monks to sweep out the Chan hall in front. Two rattan beds were sent for and the bedding was prepared, so that the two travelers could rest. He gave further instructions for sending them off with breakfast in the morning, after which everyone left. Master and disciple closed up the hall and slept, and we shall say no more of that.

We shall now tell you about the old monk, who had got hold of the cassock by fraud. He took it beneath the lamps in the back room and sat in front of it, bawling. The chief priest of the monastery was so startled that he dared not retire first. The young cleric, not knowing the reason for the weeping, went to report to the other monks, saying, “The aged father has been crying, and it’s now the second watch and he still hasn’t stopped.” Two grand disciples, who were his favorites, went forward to ask him, “Grand master, why are you crying?” “I’m crying over my ill luck,” replied the old monk, “for I cannot look at the treasure of the Tang Monk.” One of the little monks said, “The aged father is becoming a little senile! The cassock is placed right before you. All you have to do is to untie the package and look at it. Why do you have to cry?” “But I can’t look at it for long,” said the old monk. “I’m two hundred and seventy years old, and yet I have bargained in vain for those several hundred cassocks. What must I do to acquire that one cassock of his? How can I become the Tang Monk himself?” “The grand master is erring,” said the little monk. “The Tang Monk is a mendicant who had to leave his home and country. You are enjoying the benefits of old age here, and that should be sufficient. Why do you want to be a mendicant like him?” The old monk said, “Though I’m relaxing at home and enjoying my declining years, I have no cassock like his to put on. If I can put it on for just one day, I’ll die with my eyes shut, for then I shall not have been a monk in vain in this World of Light.” “What nonsense!” said another monk. “If you want to put it on, what’s so difficult about that? Tomorrow we will ask them to stay for one more day, and you can wear it the whole day; if that’s not enough, we’ll detain them for ten days so that you can wear the cassock all that time. That will be the end of the matter. Why do you have to cry like this?” “Even if they were to be detained for a whole year,” said the old monk, “I would only be able to wear it for one year. That’s not long-lasting! The moment they want to leave, we will have to return it. How can we make it last?”

As they were speaking, one of the little monks, whose name was Great Wisdom, spoke up: “Aged Father, if you want it to last, that’s easy too!” When the old monk heard that, he brightened up. “My son,” he said, “what profound thoughts do you have?” Great Wisdom said, “The Tang Monk and his disciple are travelers and are subjected to a lot of stress and strain. So they are fast asleep now. I suppose a few of us who are strong could take up knives and spears, break open the Chan hall, and kill them. We could bury them in the backyard, and only those of us within the family would know about it. We could also take over the white horse and the luggage, but the cassock could be kept as an heirloom. Now isn’t this a plan made to last through posterity?” When the old monk heard this, he was filled with delight. Wiping away his tears, he said, “Good! Good! Good! This plan is absolutely marvelous!” He asked at once for knives and spears.

There was in their midst another little monk, whose name was Big Plan, who was the younger classmate of Great Wisdom. Coming forward, he said, “That plan is no good! If you want to kill them, you must first assess the situation. It’s easy to take care of the one with the white face, but the hairy face presents more difficulty. If for some reason you are unable to slay him, you might bring disaster upon yourselves. I have a plan that does not call for knives or spears. How do you feel about this?” “My son,” said the old monk, “what sort of plan do you have?” “In the opinion of your little grandson,” said Big Plan, “we can call up all the resident heads, both senior and junior, in the eastern wing of this monastery, asking each person and his group to bring a bundle of dried firewood. We’ll sacrifice the three rooms of the Chan hall and set fire to them; the people inside will be barred from all exits. Even the horse will be burned with them! If the families who live in front of the temple or behind it should see the fire, we can say that they caused it by their carelessness and burned down our Chan hall. Those two monks will surely be burned to death, but no one will know any better. After that, won’t we have the cassock as our heirloom?” When the monks heard this, they were all delighted. “Better! Better! Better! This plan is even more marvelous! More marvelous!” they all said. They sent for the resident heads at once to bring firewood. Alas, this single plan will have the result of

A venerable old monk ending his life,

And the Guanyin Chan Hall reduced to dust.

That monastery, you see, had over seventy suites and some two hundred monks resided there. Hordes of them went to fetch firewood, which they stacked around the Chan hall until it was completely surrounded. They then made plans to light the fire, but we shall say no more of that.

We must now tell you about Tripitaka and his disciple, who had already gone to rest. That Pilgrim, however, was a spiritual monkey; though he lay down, he was only exercising his breath to preserve his spirit, with his eyes half-closed. Suddenly he heard people running around outside and the crackling of firewood in the wind. “This is a time for quietness,” he said to himself, his suspicion fully aroused, “so why do I hear people walking about? Could they be thieves plotting against us?” Whirling around, he leaped up, and would have opened the door to look outside, had he not been afraid of waking his master. Look at him display his abilities! With one shake of his body he changed into a bee. Truly he had

A sweet mouth and vicious tail;

A small waist and light body.

He cut through flowers and willow like a dart;

He sought like a meteor the scented pollen.

His light, tiny body could bear much weight.

His thin wings buzzing could ride the wind.

Descending from rafters and beams,

He crawled out to get a clear view.

He then saw that the various monks were hauling hay and carrying firewood; surrounding the Chan hall, they were about to light the fire. “What my master said has really come true!” said Pilgrim, smiling to himself. “Because they wanted to take our lives and rob us of our cassock, they were moved to such treachery. I suppose I could use my rod to attack them, but I’m afraid they wouldn’t be able to withstand it. A little beating, and they would all be dead! Then Master would blame me for acting violently again. O, let it be! I shall lead the sheep astray conveniently and meet plot with plot, so that they won’t be able to live here anymore.” Dear Pilgrim! With a single somersault, he leaped straight up to the South Heaven Gate. He so startled the divine warriors Pang, Liu, Gou, and Bi that they bowed, and so alarmed Ma, Zhao, Wen, and Guan that they bent low. “Good Heavens!” they cried. “That character who disrupted Heaven is here again!” “No need to stand on ceremony, all of you!” said Pilgrim, waving his hand. “And don’t be alarmed! I came to find Virūpākṣa, the Broad-Eyed Devarāja.”

Before he had finished speaking, the Devarāja arrived and greeted Pilgrim, saying, “It’s been a long time! I heard some time ago that the Bodhisattva Guanyin asked the Jade Emperor for the services of the Four Sentinels, the Six Gods of Light and Darkness, and the Guardians to protect the Tang Monk as he goes in quest of scriptures in the Western Heaven. She also said that you had become his disciple. How do you have the leisure to be here today?” “Don’t mention leisure!” said Pilgrim. “The Tang Monk met some wicked people on his journey, who are about to have him burned up. It’s an extreme emergency, and that’s why I’ve come to borrow your Fire-Repelling Cover to save him. Bring it to me quickly; I’ll return it the moment I’m finished with it.” “You are wrong,” said the Devarāja. “If wicked people are starting a fire, you should go find water to save him. Why do you want the Fire-Repelling Cover?” Pilgrim said, “You have no idea what’s behind this. If I find water to save him, the fire won’t burn, and that will benefit our enemies instead. I want this cover so that only the Tang Monk will be protected from harm. I don’t care about the rest! Let them burn! Quickly! Quickly! A little delay, and it may be too late! You will botch up my affairs down below!” “This monkey is still plotting with an evil mind,” said the Devarāja, laughing. “After looking out for himself, he is not worried about other people.” “Hurry!” said Pilgrim. “Stop wagging your tongue, or you’ll upset my great enterprise!” The Devarāja dared not refuse and gave Pilgrim the cover.

Pilgrim took it and descended through the clouds to the roof of the Chan hall, where he covered up the Tang Monk, the white horse, and the luggage. He himself then went to sit on the roof of the back room occupied by the old monk in order to guard the cassock. As he saw the people lighting the fire, he pressed his fingers together to make a magic sign and recited a spell. Facing the ground to the southwest, he took a deep breath and then blew it out. At once a strong wind arose and whipped the fire into a mighty blaze. What a fire! What a fire! You see

Rolling black smoke;

Vaulting red flames.

With rolling black smoke

All the stars vanish from the vast sky;

With vaulting red flames

The earth’s lit up, made crimson for a thousand miles.

At the beginning,

What gleaming snakes of gold!

Soon thereafter,

What imposing bloody horses!

The Three Southern Forces display their might.

The Great God of Fire reveals his power.

When dried wood burns in such fire intense,

Why speak of Suiren4 drilling fire from wood ?

When colored flames shoot out of hot-oiled doors,

They match even the opened oven of Laozi.

This is how fire rages ruthlessly,

Though no worse than such intended fraud

As not suppressing misdeeds

And abetting violence.

The wind sweeps the fire

And flames fly up for some eight thousand feet;

The fire’s helped by the wind,

So ashes burst beyond the Ninefold Heaven.

Ping-ping, pang-pang,

They sound like those firecrackers at year’s end.

Po-po, la-la,

They’re like the roar of cannons in the camps.

It burns till the Buddha’s image cannot flee from the scene,

And the Temple Guardians have no place to hide.

It’s like the Red Cliff Campaign in the night,5

Surpassing the fire at Epang Palace.6

As the saying goes, “One little spark of fire can burn ten thousand acres.” In a moment, the strong wind and the raging fire made the entire Guanyin Hall glowing red. Look at all those monks! They began to bring out the chests and carry out the drawers, to grab for tables and snatch up pots. A loud wailing filled the whole courtyard. Pilgrim Sun, however, stood guard at the back while the Fire-Repelling Cover securely screened off the Chan hall at the front. The rest of the place was completely lit up; truly the sky was illuminated by brilliant red flames, and bright gold light shone through the walls.

No one knew, however, that when the fire had begun, it had caught the attention of a mountain monster. For about twenty miles due south of this Guanyin Hall there was a Black Wind Mountain, where there was also a Black Wind Cave. A monster in the cave, who happened to turn over in his sleep, noticed that his windows were lit up. He thought that dawn had broken, but when he arose and took another look, he saw instead the brilliant glow of fire burning in the north. Astonished, the monster said, “Good Heavens! There must be a fire in the Guanyin Hall. Those monks are so careless! Let me see if I can help them a little!” Dear monster! He rose with his cloud and went at once to the place of fire and smoke, where he discovered that the halls front and back were entirely empty while the fire in the corridors on both sides was raging. With great strides he ran inside and was about to call for water when he saw that there was no fire in the back room. Someone, however, was sitting on the roof whipping up the wind. He began to perceive what was happening and ran quickly inside to look around. In the living room of the old monk, he saw on the table colorful radiance emitted by a package wrapped in a blue blanket. He untied it and discovered that it was a cassock of silk brocade, a rare Buddhist treasure. Thus it is how wealth moves the mind of man! He neither attempted to put out the fire nor called for water. Snatching up the cassock, he committed robbery by taking advantage of the confusion and at once turned his cloud back toward the mountain cave.

The fire raged on until the time of the fifth watch before burning itself out. Look at those monks: weeping and wailing, they went with empty hands and naked bodies to rummage about in the ashes, trying desperately to salvage a scrap or two of metal or valuables. Some attempted to erect a temporary shelter along the walls, while others amid the rubble tried to build a makeshift oven so that rice could be cooked. They were all howling and complaining, but we shall say no more about that.

Now we shall tell you about Pilgrim, who, taking the Fire-Repelling Cover, sent it up to the South Heaven Gate with one somersault. He handed it back to the Broad-Eyed Devarāja, saying, “Thanks so much for lending it to me!” The Devarāja took it back and said, “The Great Sage is very honest. I was a little worried that if you did not return my treasure, I would have a hard time finding you. I’m glad you brought it right back.” “Do you think that old Monkey is the sort of person who steals openly?” asked Pilgrim. “As the saying goes, ‘Return what you borrow, and again you may borrow!’” “I haven’t seen you for a long time,” said the Devarāja, “and I would like to invite you to spend some time at my palace. How about it?” Pilgrim said, “Old Monkey can’t do what he did before, ‘squatting on a rotted bench and dispensing lofty discourse.’ Now that I have to protect the Tang Monk, I haven’t a moment’s leisure. Give me a rain check!” He took leave of the Devarāja quickly and dropped down from the clouds. As the sun arose, he arrived at the Chan hall, where with one shake of his body he changed again into a bee. When he flew inside and resumed his original form, he saw that his master was still sleeping soundly.

“Master,” cried Pilgrim, “it’s dawn. Get up.” Only then did Tripitaka awake; he turned around, saying, “Yes, indeed!” Putting on his clothes, he opened the door and went out. As he raised his head, he saw crumbling walls and seared partitions; the towers, the terraces, and the buildings had all disappeared. “Ah!” he cried, greatly shaken. “How is it that the buildings are all gone? Why are there only scorched walls?” “You are still dreaming!” said Pilgrim. “They had a fire here last night.” “Why didn’t I know about it?” asked Tripitaka. “It’s old Monkey who safeguarded the Chan hall,” replied Pilgrim. “When I saw that Master was sound asleep, I did not disturb you.” “If you had the ability to safeguard the Chan hall,” said Tripitaka, “why didn’t you put out the fire in the other buildings?” “So that you may learn the truth,” said Pilgrim, laughing, “just as you predicted it yesterday. They fell in love with our cassock and made plans to have us burned to death. If old Monkey had been less alert, we would have been reduced to bone and ashes by now!” When Tripitaka heard these words, he was alarmed and asked, “Was it they who set the fire?” “Who else?” said Pilgrim. “Could it be,” asked Tripitaka, “that they mistreated you, and you did this?” Pilgrim replied, “Is old Monkey the sort of wretch that would indulge in such sordid business? It really was they who set the fire. When I saw how malicious they were, I admit I did not help them put the fire out. I did, however, manage to provide them with a little wind!”

“My God! My God!” said Tripitaka. “When a fire starts, you should get water. How could you provide wind instead?” “You must have heard,” said Pilgrim, “what the ancients said: ‘If a man has no desire to harm a tiger, a tiger has no intention of hurting a man.’ If they hadn’t played with fire, would I have played with wind?” “Where’s the cassock?” asked Tripitaka. “Has it been burned?” “Not at all!” replied Pilgrim. “It hasn’t been burned, for the fire didn’t reach the living quarters of the old monk where the cassock was placed.” “I don’t care!” exclaimed Tripitaka, his resentment rising. “If there’s the slightest damage, I’m going to recite that little something and you’ll be dead!” “Master!” cried Pilgrim with alarm, “don’t start your recitation! I’ll find the cassock and return it to you, and that’ll be the end of the matter. Let me go fetch it so that we can start on our journey.” Tripitaka led the horse while Pilgrim took up the load of luggage. They left the Chan hall and went to the room at the rear.

We now tell you about the monks, who were still grieving when they suddenly saw master and disciple approaching with the horse and the luggage. Scared out of their wits, they all said, “The wronged souls have come to seek vengeance!” “What wronged souls are seeking vengeance?” shouted Pilgrim. “Give back my cassock quickly!” All the monks fell to their knees at once, saying as they kowtowed, “Holy Fathers! Just as a wrong implies an enemy, so a debt has its proper creditor! If you seek vengeance, please understand that we had nothing to do with this. It was the old monk who plotted with Big Plan against you. Don’t make us pay for your lives!” “You damnable beasts!” cried Pilgrim angrily. “Who wants you to pay with your lives? Just give me back the cassock and we’ll be going.” Two of the monks who were less timid said to him, “Father, you were supposed to be burned to death in the Chan hall, and yet now you come to demand the cassock. Are you indeed a man, or are you a ghost?” “This bunch of accursed creatures!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “Where was the fire? Go to the front and look at the Chan hall. Then you can come back and talk.” The monks got up and went to the front to look; not even half an inch of the door, the window, or the screen outside the Chan hall was scorched. One and all were awestruck and became convinced that Tripitaka was a divine monk, and Pilgrim a celestial guardian. They all went forward to kowtow to them, saying, “We have eyes but no pupils, and therefore we did not recognize True Men descending to Earth. Your cassock is at the residence of the old Patriarch at the back.” Tripitaka was deeply saddened by the rows of crumbling walls and damaged partitions they went past before arriving at the Patriarch’s chambers, which were indeed untouched by fire. The monks dashed in, crying, “Aged Father, the Tang Monk must be a god. He hasn’t been burned to death, though we have hurt ourselves. Let’s take the cassock quickly and give it back to him.”

But the fact of the matter is that the old monk could not find the cassock. In addition, most of the buildings in his monastery had been ruined, and he was, of course, terribly distressed. When he heard the monks calling, how could he have the courage to reply? Feeling utterly helpless and incapable of solving his dilemma, he bent forward, took several great strides, and rammed his head into the wall. How pitiful! The impact made

The brain burst, the blood flow, and his soul disperse;

His head stained the sand as his breathing stopped.

We have a poem as a testimony, which says:

So lamentable is this blind old monk!

In vain he lives among men to such old age.

He wants the cassock forever to keep,

Not knowing how uncommon is Buddha’s gift.

If you think what endures can come with ease,

Yours will be sure failure and certain grief.

Big Plan, Great Wisdom, of what use are they?

To gain by others’ loss—what empty dreams!

Shocked to tears, the monks cried, “The Patriarch has killed himself. And we can’t find the cassock. What shall we do?” “It must have been you who stole it and hid it,” said Pilgrim. “Come out, all of you! Give me a complete list of your names and let me check you off the roll one by one.” The head residents of all the upper and lower chambers made a thorough accounting of all the monks, the dhūtas, the young novices, and the Daoists in two scrolls, and presented Pilgrim with some two hundred and thirty names. Asking his master to take a seat in the middle, Pilgrim went through the roll and examined the monks one by one. Every person had to loosen his clothes to be searched thoroughly, but there was no cassock. They then went to hunt through the trunks and chests that had been salvaged from the fire, but again there was not the slightest trace of the garment. In dismay, Tripitaka became more and more embittered toward Pilgrim until he began reciting the spell as he sat there. Falling at once to the ground, Pilgrim gripped his head with his hands, hardly able to bear the pain. “Stop the recitation! Stop the recitation!” he cried. “I’ll find the cassock.” Terrified by what they saw, the various monks went forward and knelt down to plead with Tripitaka, who only then stopped his recitation. Pilgrim leaped straight up and whipped out his rod from his ear. He would have struck at the monks, had not Tripitaka shouted for him to halt, crying, “Monkey! Aren’t you afraid of your headache? Do you still want to behave badly? Don’t move, and don’t hurt people! Let me question them further.” The monks kowtowed and begged Tripitaka, saying, “Father, please spare us. Truly we did not see your cassock. It was entirely the fault of that old devil! After he got your cassock last night, he started crying until very late; he didn’t even bother to look at it, for all he had on his mind was how he might keep it permanently as an heirloom. That was why he made plans to have you burned to death, but after the fire started, a violent wind arose also. Every one of us was only concerned with putting out the fire and trying to save something. We have no idea where the cassock has gone.”

Angrily, Pilgrim walked into the Patriarch’s room, pulled out the corpse of the old man rammed to death, and stripped him naked. The body was examined carefully, but the treasure was nowhere to be seen. Even if they had dug up three feet of the ground in that room, there would have been not a trace of it. Pilgrim thought silently for awhile and then asked, “Is there any monster around here who has become a spirit?” “If father hadn’t asked,” said the abbot, “he would have never known about this. Southeast of us there is a Black Wind Mountain, in which there is a Black Wind Cave. In the cave is a Black Great King, with whom this deceased old fellow of ours used to discuss the Dao frequently. He is the only monster spirit around here.” “How far is the mountain from here?” asked Pilgrim. “Only twenty miles,” said the abbot. “The peak that you can see right now is where it is.” Pilgrim laughed and said, “Relax, Master! No need for further discussion; it must have been stolen by the black monster.” “That place is about twenty miles away,” said Tripitaka. “How can you be so sure that it was he?” “You didn’t see last night’s fire,” said Pilgrim, “when its light illuminated great distances, and its brightness penetrated the Threefold Heaven. Not just for twenty miles, but for two hundred miles around it could be seen. I have no doubt that he saw the brilliant glow of the fire and used that opportunity to come here secretly. When he saw that our cassock was a treasure, he grabbed it in the confusion and left. Let old Monkey go find him.” “Who will care for me while you are gone?” asked Tripitaka. “You can relax,” said Pilgrim. “You have in secret the protection of the gods; and in the open, I shall make sure that the monks wait on you.” He then called the monks over, saying, “A few of you can go and bury that old devil, while the others can wait on my master and watch our white horse.” The monks at once agreed. Pilgrim said again, “Don’t give me any casual reply now, only to grow slack in your service after I’m gone. Those who wait on my master must be cheerful and pleasant; those who look after the white horse must take care that water and hay are fed in proper proportions. If there’s the slightest mistake, you can count on meeting this rod. Now watch!” He whipped out his rod and aimed it at the seared bricked wall: with one stroke, not only did he pulverize the wall, but the impact was so great that it caused seven or eight more walls to collapse. When the various monks saw this, they were all paralyzed with fear. They knelt to kowtow with tears flowing from their eyes and said, “Father, please be assured that we shall be most diligent in caring for the holy father after you are gone. We wouldn’t dream of slacking in any way.”

Dear Pilgrim! He swiftly mounted the cloud somersault and went straight to the Black Wind Mountain to look for the cassock. Thus it was that

Truth-seeking Gold Cicada left Chang’an.7

With gifts he went westward, passing blue-green hills.

There were wolves and tigers as he walked along,

Though merchants or scholars were rarely seen.

One foolish monk’s envy abroad he met;

His refuge solely was the Great Sage’s might.

The fire grew; the wind came and wrecked the Chan hall.

A Black Bear at night stole the embroidered robe.

We do not know whether Pilgrim found the cassock or not, or whether the outcome of his search was good or bad. Let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.