第三十二回

第三十二回 平顶山功曹传信 莲花洞木母逢灾

话说唐僧复得了孙行者，师徒们一心同体，共诣西方。自宝象国救了公主，承君臣送出城西，说不尽沿路饥餐渴饮，夜住晓行。却又值三春景候。那时节：

轻风吹柳绿如丝，佳景最堪题。时催鸟语，暖烘花发，遍地芳菲。　海棠庭院来双燕，正是赏春时。红尘紫陌，绮罗弦管，斗草传卮[1]。

师徒正行赏间，又见一山挡路，唐僧道：“徒弟们仔细。前遇山高，恐有虎狼阻挡。”行者道：“师父，出家人莫说在家话。你记得那乌巢和尚的《心经》云‘心无挂碍；无挂碍，方无恐怖，远离颠倒梦想’之言？但只是‘扫除心上垢，洗净耳边尘。不受苦中苦，难为人上人’。你莫生忧虑，但有老孙，就是塌下天来，可保无事。怕甚么虎狼！”长老勒回马道：“我

当年奉旨出长安，只忆西来拜佛颜。

舍利国中金像采，浮屠塔里玉毫斑。

寻穷天下无名水，历遍人间不到山。

逐逐烟波重叠叠，几时能够此身闲？”

行者闻说，笑呵呵道：“师要身闲，有何难事？若功成之后，万缘都罢，诸法皆空。那时节，自然而然，却不是身闲也？”长老闻言，只得乐以忘忧，放辔催银，兜缰趱玉龙。

师徒们上得山来，十分险峻，真个嵯峨。好山：

巍巍峻岭，削削尖峰。湾环深涧下，孤峻陡崖边。湾环深涧下，只听得唿喇喇戏水蟒翻身；孤峻陡崖边，但见那崒嵂嵂出林虎剪尾。往上看，峦头突兀透青霄；回眼观，壑下深沉邻碧落[2]。上高来，似梯似凳；下低行，如堑如坑。真个是古怪巅峰岭，果然是连尖削壁崖。巅峰岭上，采药人寻思怕走；削壁崖前，打柴夫寸步难行。胡羊野马乱撺梭，狡兔山牛如布阵。山高蔽日遮星斗，时逢妖兽与苍狼。草径迷漫难进马，怎得雷音见佛王？

长老勒马观山，正在难行之处，只见那绿莎坡上，伫立着一个樵夫。你道他怎生打扮：

头戴一顶老蓝毡笠，身穿一领毛皂衲衣。老蓝毡笠，遮烟盖日果稀奇；毛皂衲衣，乐以忘忧真罕见。手持钢斧快磨明，刀伐干柴收束紧。担头春色，幽然四序融融；身外闲情，常是三星澹澹。到老只于随分过，有何荣辱暂关山？

那樵子：

正在坡前伐朽柴，忽逢长老自东来。

停柯住斧出林外，趋步将身上石崖。

对长老厉声高叫道：“那西进的长老！暂停片时。我有一言奉告：此山有一伙毒魔狠怪，专吃你东来西去的人哩。”

长老闻言，魂飞魄散，战兢兢坐不稳雕鞍，急回头忙呼徒弟道：“你听那樵夫报道，此山有毒魔狠怪。谁敢去细问他一问？”行者道：“师父放心，等老孙去问他一个端的。”

好行者，拽开步，径上山来，对樵子叫声“大哥”，道个问讯。樵夫答礼道：“长老呵，你们有何缘故来此？”行者道：“不瞒大哥说，我们是东土差来西天取经的。那马上是我的师父，他有些胆小。适蒙见教，说有甚么毒魔狠怪，故此我来奉问一声：那魔是几年之魔，怪是几年之怪？还是个把势[3]，还是个雏儿[4]？烦大哥老实说说，我好着山神、土地递解[5]他起身。”樵子闻言，仰天大笑道：“你原来是个风和尚。”行者道：“我不风阿！这是老实话。”樵子道：“你说是老实，便怎敢说把他递解起身？”行者道：“你这等长他那威风，胡言乱语的拦路报信，莫不是与他有亲？不亲必邻，不邻必友。”樵子笑道：“你这个风泼和尚，忒没道理。我倒是好意，特来报与你们，教你们走路时，早晚间防备，你倒转赖在我身上。且莫说我不晓得妖魔出处，就晓得呵，你敢把他怎么的递解？解往何处？”行者道：“若是天魔，解与玉帝；若是土魔，解与土府。西方的归佛，东方的归圣；北方的解与真武，南方的解与火德。是蛟精解与海主，是鬼祟解与阎王。——各有地头方向。我老孙到处里人熟，发一张批文，把他连夜解着飞跑。”

那樵子止不住呵呵冷笑道：“你这个风泼和尚，想是在方上云游，学了些书符咒水[6]的法术，只可驱邪缚鬼，还不曾撞见这等狠毒的怪哩。”行者道：“怎见他狠毒？”樵子道：“此山径过有六百里远近，名唤平顶山，山中有一洞，名唤莲花洞，洞里有两个魔头。他画影图形，要捉和尚，抄名访姓，要吃唐僧。你若别处来的还好，但犯了一个‘唐’字儿，莫想去得，去得！”行者道：“我们正是唐朝来的。”樵子道：“他正要吃你们哩。”行者道：“造化！造化！但不知他怎的样吃哩？”樵子道：“你要他怎的吃？”行者道：“若是先吃头，还好耍子，若是先吃脚，就难为了。”樵子道：“先吃头怎么说？先吃脚怎么说？”行者道：“你还不曾经着哩。若是先吃头，一口将他咬下，我已死了，凭他怎么煎炒熬煮，我也不知疼痛；若是先吃脚，他啃了孤拐，嚼了腿亭，吃到腰截骨，我还急忙不死，却不是零零碎碎受苦？此所以难为也。”樵子道：“和尚，他那里有这许多工夫，只是把你拿住，捆在笼里，囫囵蒸吃了！”行者笑道：“这个更好！更好！疼倒不忍疼，只是受些闷气罢了。”樵子道：“和尚不要调嘴。那妖怪随身有五件宝贝，神通极大极广。就是擎天的玉柱，架海的金梁，若保得唐朝和尚去，也须要发发昏是。”行者道：“发几个昏么？”樵子道：“要发三四个昏是。”行者道：“不打紧，不打紧。我们一年，常发七八百个昏儿。这三四个昏儿易得发，发发儿就过去了。”

好大圣，全然无惧，一心只是要保唐僧，捽脱樵夫，拽步而转，径至山坡马头前道：“师父，没甚大事。有便有个把妖精儿，只是这里人胆小，放他在心上。有我哩，怕他怎的？走路！走路！”长老见说，只得放怀随行。

正行处，早不见了那樵夫。长老道：“那报信的樵子如何就不见了？”八戒道：“我们造化低，撞见日里鬼了。”行者道：“想是他钻进林子里寻柴去了。等我看看来。”好大圣，睁开火眼金睛，漫山越岭的望处，都无踪迹。忽抬头往云端里一看，看见是日值功曹，他就纵云赶上，骂了几声“毛鬼”，道：“你怎么有话不来直说，却那般变化了，演漾[7]老孙？”慌得那功曹施礼道：“大圣，报信来迟，勿罪，勿罪。那怪果然神通广大，变化多端。只看你腾那乖巧，运动神机，仔细保你师父；假若怠慢了些儿，西天路莫想去得。”

行者闻言，把功曹叱退，切切在心，按云头，径来山上。只见长老与八戒、沙僧，簇拥前进，他却暗想：“我若把功曹的言语实实告诵师父，师父他不济事，必就哭了。假若不与他实说，梦[8]着头，带着他走，常言道：‘乍入芦圩，不知深浅。’——倘或被妖魔捞去，却不又要老孙费心？……且等我照顾八戒一照顾，先着他出头与那怪打一仗看。若是打得过他，就算他一功；若是没手段，被怪拿去，等老孙再去救他不迟。却好显我本事出名。”正自家计较，以心问心道：“只恐八戒躲懒便不肯出头，师父又有些护短。等老孙羁勒[9]他羁勒。”

好大圣，你看他弄个虚头，把眼揉了一揉，揉出些泪来，迎着师父，往前径走。八戒看见，连忙叫：“沙和尚，歇下担子，拿出行李来，我两个分了罢！”沙僧道：“二哥，分怎的？”八戒道：“分了，便你往流沙河还做妖怪，老猪往高老庄上盼盼[10]浑家。把白马卖了，买口棺木，与师父送老[11]，大家散火。还往西天去哩？”长老在马上听见，道：“这个夯货！正走路，怎么又胡说了？”八戒道：“你儿子便胡说！你不看见孙行者那里哭将来了？他是个钻天入地，斧砍火烧，下油锅都不怕的好汉，如今戴了个愁帽，泪汪汪的哭来，必是那山险峻，妖怪凶狠。似我们这样软弱的人儿，怎么去得？”长老道：“你且休胡谈。待我问他一声，看是怎么说话。”问道：“悟空，有甚话当面计较。你怎么自家烦恼？这般样个哭包脸，是虎唬我也？”行者道：“师父啊，刚才那个报信的，是日值功曹。他说妖精凶狠，此处难行，果然的山高路峻，不能前进。改日再去罢。”长老闻言，恐惶悚惧，扯住他虎皮裙子道：“徒弟呀，我们三停路已走了停半，因何说退悔之言？”行者道：“我没个不尽心的，但只恐魔多力弱，行势孤单。‘总然是块铁，下炉能打得几根钉？’”长老道：“徒弟呵，你也说得是，果然一个人也难。兵书云：‘寡不可敌众。’我这里还有八戒、沙僧，都是徒弟，凭你调度使用，或为护将帮手，协力同心，扫清山径，领我过山，却不都还了正果？”

那行者这一场扭捏，只逗出长老这几句话来。他揾了泪道：“师父呵，若要过得此山，须是猪八戒依得我两件事儿，才有三分去得。假若不依我言，替不得我手，半分儿也莫想过去。”八戒道：“师兄，不去就散火罢，不要攀我。”长老道：“徒弟，且问你师兄，看他教你做甚么。”呆子真个对行者说道：“哥哥，你教我做甚事？”行者道：“第一件是看师父，第二件是去巡山。”八戒道：“看师父是坐，巡山去是走，终不然教我坐一会又走，走一会又坐。两处怎么顾盼得来？”行者道：“不是教你两件齐干，只是领了一件便罢。”八戒又笑道：“这等也好计较。但不知看师父是怎样，巡山是怎样。你先与我讲讲，等我依个相应些儿的去干罢。”行者道：“看师父呵：师父去出恭，你伺候；师父要走路，你扶持；师父要吃斋，你化斋。若他饿了些儿，你该打；黄了些儿脸皮，你该打；瘦了些儿形骸，你该打。”八戒慌了道：“这个难！难！难！伺候扶持，通不打紧，就是不离身驮着，也还容易；假若教我去乡下化斋，他这西方路上，不识我是取经的和尚，只道是那山里走出来的一个半壮不壮的健猪，伙上许多人，叉钯扫帚，把老猪围倒，拿家去宰了，腌着过年，这个却不就遭瘟了？”行者道：“巡山去罢。”八戒道：“巡山便怎么样儿？”行者道：“就入此山，打听有多少妖怪，是甚么山，是甚么洞，我们好过去。”八戒道：“这个小可，老猪去巡山罢。”那呆子就撒起衣裙，挺着钉钯，雄纠纠，径入深山，气昂昂，奔上大路。

行者在旁，忍不住嘻嘻冷笑。长老骂道：“你这个泼猴！兄弟们全无爱怜之意，常怀嫉妒之心。你做出这样獐智，巧言令色，撮弄他去甚么巡山，却又在这里笑他！”行者道：“不是笑他，我这笑中有味。你看猪八戒这一去，决不巡山，也不敢见妖怪，不知往那里去躲闪半会，捏一个谎来，哄我们也。”长老道：“你怎么就晓得他？”行者道：“我估出他是这等。不信，等我跟他去看看，听他一听，一则帮副[12]他手段降妖，二来看他可有个诚心拜佛。”长老道：“好！好！好！你却莫去捉弄他。”行者应诺了，径直赶上山坡，摇身一变，变作个蟭蟟虫儿。其实变得轻巧。但见他：

翅薄舞风不用力，腰尖细小如针。穿蒲抹草过花阴，疾似流星还甚。眼睛明映映，声气渺瘖瘖。昆虫之类惟他小，亭亭款款机深。几番闲日歇幽林，一身浑不见，千眼莫能寻。

嘤的一翅飞将去，赶上八戒，丁在他耳朵后面鬃根底下。那呆子只管走路，怎知道身上有人，行有七八里路，把钉钯撇下，吊转头来，望着唐僧，指手画脚的骂道：“你罢软的老和尚，捉掐[13]的弼马温，面弱的沙和尚！他都在那里自在，捉弄我老猪来路！大家取经，都要望成正果，偏是教我来巡甚么山！哈！哈！哈！晓得有妖怪，躲着些儿走。还不够一半，却教我去寻他，这等晦气哩！我往那里睡觉去，睡一觉回去，含含糊糊的答应他，只说是巡了山，就了其帐也。”那呆子一时间侥幸，搴着钯又走。只见山凹里一弯红草坡，他一头钻得进去，使钉钯扑个地铺，毂辘的睡下，把腰伸了一伸，道声：“快活！就是那弼马温，也不得像我这般自在！”原来行者在他耳根后，句句儿听着哩，忍不住，飞将起来，又捉弄他一捉弄。又摇身一变，变作个啄木虫儿。但见：

铁嘴尖尖红溜，翠翎艳艳光明。一双钢爪利如钉，腹馁何妨林静。　最爱枯槎朽烂，偏嫌老树伶仃。圜睛决尾[14]性丢灵[15]，辟剥之声堪听。

这虫鹥[16]不大不小的，上秤称，只有二三两重；红铜嘴，黑铁脚，刷剌的一翅飞下来。那八戒丢倒头，正睡着了，被他照嘴唇上扢揸的一下。那呆子慌得爬将起来，口里乱嚷道：“有妖怪！有妖怪！把我戳了一枪去了！嘴上好不疼呀！”伸手摸摸，泱出血来了。他道：“蹭蹬呵！我又没甚喜事，怎么嘴上挂了红耶？”他看着这血手，口里絮絮叨叨的两边乱看，却不见动静，道：“无甚妖怪，怎么戳我一枪么？”忽抬头往上看时，原来是个啄木虫，在半空中飞哩。呆子咬牙骂道：“这个亡人！弼马温欺负我罢了，你也来欺负我！——我晓得了，他一定不认我是个人，只把我嘴当一段黑朽枯烂的树，内中生了虫，寻虫儿吃的，将我啄了这一下也。等我把嘴揣在怀里睡罢。”那呆子毂辘的依然睡倒。行者又飞来，着耳根后又啄了一下。呆子慌得爬起来道：“这个亡人，却打搅得我很！想必这里是他的窠巢，生蛋布雏，怕我占了，故此这般打搅。罢！罢！罢！不睡他了！”搴着钯，径出红草坡，找路又走。可不喜坏了孙行者，笑倒个美猴王。行者道：“这夯货大睁着两个眼，连自家人也认不得！”

好大圣，摇身又一变，还变做个蟭蟟虫，丁在他耳朵后面，不离他身上。那呆子入深山，又行有四五里，只见山凹中有桌面大的四四方方三块青石头。呆子放下钯，对石头唱个大喏。行者暗笑道：“这呆子！石头又不是人，又不会说话，又不会还礼，唱他喏怎的，可不是个瞎帐[17]？”原来那呆子把石头当着唐僧、沙僧、行者三人，朝着他演习哩。他道：“我这回去，见了师父，若问有妖怪，就说有妖怪。他问甚么山，——我若说是泥捏的，土做的，锡打的，铜铸的，面蒸的，纸糊的，笔画的，他们见说我呆哩，若讲这话，一发说呆了，——我只说是石头山。他问甚么洞，也只说是石头洞。他问甚么门，却说是钉钉的铁叶门。他问里边有多远，只说入内有三层。——十分再搜寻，问门上钉子多少，只说老猪心忙记不真。此间编造停当，哄那弼马温去！”

那呆子捏合了，拖着钯，径回本路。怎知行者在耳朵后，一一听得明白。行者见他回来，即腾两翅预先回去，现原身，见了师父。师父道：“悟空，你来了，悟能怎不见回？”行者笑道：“他在那里编谎哩。就待来也。”长老道：“他两个耳朵盖着眼，愚拙之人也。他会编甚么谎？又是你捏合甚么鬼话赖他哩。”行者道：“师父，你只是这等护短。这是有对问的话。”把他那钻在草里睡觉，被啄木虫叮醒，朝石头唱喏，编造甚么石头山、石头洞、铁叶门、有妖精的话，预先说了。说毕，不多时，那呆子走将来；又怕忘了那谎，低着头，口里温习。被行者喝了一声道：“呆子！念甚么哩？”八戒掀起耳朵来看看道：“我到了地头了！”那呆子上前跪倒，长老搀起道：“徒弟，辛苦啊。”八戒道：“正是。走路的人，爬山的人，第一辛苦了。”长老道：“可有妖怪么？”八戒道：“有妖怪！有妖怪！一堆妖怪哩！”长老道：“怎么打发你来？”八戒说：“他叫我做猪祖宗，猪外公，安排些粉汤素食，教我吃了一顿，说道摆旗鼓送我们过山哩。”行者道：“想是在草里睡着了，说得是梦话？”呆子闻言，就吓得矮了二寸道：“爷爷呀！我睡他怎么晓得？……”行者上前，一把揪住道：“你过来，等我问你。”呆子又慌了，战战兢兢的道：“问便罢了，揪扯怎的？”行者道：“是甚么山？”八戒道：“是石头山。”——“甚么洞？”道：“是石头洞。”——“甚么门？”道：“是钉钉铁叶门。”——“里边有多远？”道：“入内是三层。”行者道：“你不消说了，后半截我记得真。恐师父不信，我替你说了罢。”八戒道：“嘴脸！你又不曾去，你晓得那些儿，要替我说？”行者笑道：“‘门上钉子有多少，只说老猪心忙记不真。’可是么？”那呆子即慌忙跪倒。行者道：“朝着石头唱喏，当做我三人，对他一问一答。可是么？又说：‘等我编得谎儿停当，哄那弼马温去！’可是么？”那呆子连忙只是磕头道：“师兄，我去巡山，你莫成跟我去听的？”行者骂道：“我把你个馕糠的夯货！这般要紧的所在，教你去巡山，你却去睡觉！不是啄木虫叮你醒来，你还在那里睡哩。及叮醒，又编这样大谎，可不误了大事？你快伸过孤拐来，打五棍记心！”

八戒慌了道：“那个哭丧棒重，擦一擦儿皮塌，挽一挽儿筋伤，若打五下，就是死了！”行者道：“你怕打，却怎么扯谎？”八戒道：“哥哥呀，只是这一遭儿，以后再不敢了。”行者道：“一遭便打三棍罢。”八戒道：“爷爷呀，半棍儿也禁不得！”呆子没计奈何，扯住师父道：“你替我说个方便儿。”长老道：“悟空说你编谎，我还不信。今果如此，其实该打。——但如今过山少人使唤，悟空，你且饶他，待过了山再打罢。”行者道：“古人云：‘顺父母言情，呼为大孝。’师父说不打，我就且饶你。你再去与他巡山。若再说谎误事，我定一下也不饶你！”

那呆子只得爬起来又去。你看他奔上大路，疑心生暗鬼，步步只疑是行者变化了跟住他，故见一物，即疑是行者。走有七八里，见一只老虎从山坡上跑过，他也不怕，举着钉钯道：“师兄来听说谎的？这遭不编了。”又走处，那山风来得甚猛，呼的一声，把棵枯木刮倒，滚至面前，他又跌脚捶胸的道：“哥啊！这是怎的起！一行说不敢编谎罢了，又变甚么树来打人！”又走向前，只见一个白颈老鸦，当头喳喳的连叫几声，他又道：“哥哥，不羞！不羞！我说不编就不编了，只管又变着老鸦怎的？你来听么？”原来这一番行者却不曾跟他去，他那里却自惊自怪，乱疑乱猜，故无往而不疑是行者随他身也。呆子惊疑且不题。

却说那山叫做平顶山，那洞叫做莲花洞。洞里两妖，一唤金角大王，一唤银角大王，金角正坐对银角说：“兄弟，我们多少时不巡山了？”银角道：“有半个月了。”金角道：“兄弟，你今日与我去巡巡。”银角道：“今日巡山怎的？”金角道：“你不知，近闻得东土唐朝差个御弟唐僧往西方拜佛，一行四众，叫做孙行者、猪八戒、沙和尚，连马五口。你看他在那处，与我把他拿来。”银角道：“我们要吃人，那里不捞几个？这和尚到得那里，让他去罢。”金角道：“你不晓得，我当年出天界，尝闻得人言，唐僧乃金蝉长老临凡，十世修行的好人，一点元阳未泄。有人吃他肉，延寿长生哩。”银角道：“若是吃了他肉就可以延寿长生，我们打甚么坐，立甚么功，炼甚么龙与虎，配甚么雌与雄？只该吃他去了。等我去拿他来。”金角道：“兄弟，你有些性急，且莫忙着。你若走出门，不管好歹，但是和尚就拿将来，假如不是唐僧，却也不当人子。我记得他的模样，曾将他师徒画了一个影，图了一个形，你可拿去。但遇着和尚，以此照验照验。”又将某人是某名字，一一说了。银角得了图像，知道姓名，即出洞，点起三十名小怪，便来山上巡逻。

却说八戒运拙，正行处，可可的撞见群魔，当面挡住道：“那来的甚么人？”呆子才抬起头来，掀着耳朵，看见是些妖魔，他就慌了，心中暗道：“我若说是取经的和尚，他就捞了去。”只是说：“走路的。”小妖回报道：“大王，是走路的。”那三十名小怪，中间有认得的，有不认得的，旁边有听着指点说话的，道：“大王，这个和尚，像这图中猪八戒模样。”叫挂起影神图[18]来。八戒看见，大惊道：“怪道这些时没精神哩！原来是他把我的影神传将来也！”小妖用枪挑着，银角用手指道：“这骑白马的是唐僧，这毛脸的是孙行者。”八戒听见道：“城隍，没我便也罢了，猪头三牲，清醮二十四分。……”口里唠叨，只管许愿。那怪又道：“这黑长的是沙和尚，这长嘴大耳的是猪八戒。”呆子听见说他，慌得把个嘴揣在怀里藏了。那怪叫：“和尚，伸出嘴来！”八戒道：“胎里病，伸不出来。”那怪令小妖使钩子钩出来。八戒慌得把个嘴伸出道：“小家形。罢了，这不是？你要看便就看，钩怎的？”

那怪认得是八戒，掣出宝剑，上前就砍。这呆子举钉钯按住道：“我的儿，休无礼！看钯！”那怪笑道：“这和尚是半路出家的。”八戒道：“好儿子！有些灵性！你怎么就晓得老爷是半路出家的？”那怪道：“你会使这钯，一定是在人家园圃中筑地，把他这钯偷将来也。”八戒道：“我的儿，你那里认得老爷这钯。我不比那筑地之钯。这是：

巨齿铸来如龙爪，渗金妆就似虎形。

若逢对敌寒风洒，但遇相持火焰生。

能替唐僧消瘴碍，西天路上捉妖精。

抡动烟霞遮日月，使起昏云暗斗星。

筑倒泰山老虎怕，掀翻大海老龙惊。

饶你这妖有手段，一钯九个血窟窿！”

那怪闻言，那里肯让，使七星剑，丢开解数，与八戒一往一来，在山中赌斗有二十回合，不分胜负。八戒发起狠来，舍死的相迎。那怪见他捽耳朵，喷粘涎，舞钉钯，口里吆吆喝喝的，也尽有些悚惧，即回头招呼小怪一齐动手。若是一个打一个，其实还好，他见那些小妖齐上，慌了手脚，遮架不住，败了阵，回头就跑。原来是道路不平，未曾细看，忽被蓏萝藤绊了个踉。挣起来正走，又被一个小妖睡倒在地，扳着他脚跟，扑的又跌了个狗吃屎，被一群赶上按住，抓鬃毛，揪耳朵，扯着脚，拉着尾，扛扛抬抬，擒进洞去。咦！正是：一身魔发难消灭，万种灾生不易除。毕竟不知猪八戒性命如何，且听下回分解。

[1] 斗草传卮（zhī）：斗草，又称斗百草，古代民间游戏。传卮，即传杯。卮，古代酒器。

[2] 碧落：道教称东方第一层天叫“碧落”。后用来泛指青天。

[3] 把势：行会中专精一套武艺的叫把势。也作把式，犹如现在说有一手。这里指行家。

[4] 雏儿：未经世故的。这里指外行的人。

[5] 递解：旧时解送犯人，由沿途官府派人一站一站押送，叫递解。

[6] 书符咒水：书符，即画符。道士在特定的纸张上画出特定符号，以驱神役鬼。咒水，即对水念咒，使水达到驱邪的效果。

[7] 演漾：同“演样”，即迷惑。

[8] 梦：同“矇”。这里作蒙、闷解释。

[9] 羁勒：束缚。这里有捉弄、为难的意思。

[10] 盼盼：看看。

[11] 送老：埋葬、送终。

[12] 帮副：帮附，协助。

[13] 捉掐：就是促狭。缺德的意思。

[14] 决尾：尾巴张开。

[15] 丢灵：活溜、灵巧。

[16] 虫鹥（yī）：指飞禽。《水浒》作虫蚁。

[17] 瞎帐：浑帐、糊涂。

[18] 影神图：即画像。旧时认为被人画像会被摄魂。故下面八戒说自己“这些时没精神”。

CHAPTER 32. On Level-Top Mountain the sentinel brings a message; At Lotus-Flower Cave Wood Mother meets disaster.

We were telling you about the Tang Monk, who acquired again the service of Pilgrim Sun; master and disciples thereupon embarked on the road to the West, united once more in heart and mind. After they had rescued the princess of the Precious Image Kingdom and been sent off by its king and officials, they journeyed without ceasing, taking food and drink when they hungered and thirsted, resting by night and traveling by day. Soon it was again the time of Triple Spring, a season when

Light breezes blow on willow green as silk,

A lovely scene most fit for verse.

The times hasten bird songs;

The warmth kindles flowers,

Fragrant blooms all around.

A pair of swallows comes to the apple court,1

Just in time to enjoy spring:

Red dust on purple paths,2

Strings, pipes, and the silk gowns,

Games and passing the wine cups.3

As master and disciples walked and enjoyed the scenery, they found another mountain barring their way. “Disciples,” said the Tang Monk, “please be careful. We have a tall mountain before us, and I fear that tigers and wolves might be here to obstruct us.” “Master,” said Pilgrim, “a man who has left the family should not speak as those who remain in the family. Don’t you remember the words of the Heart Sūtra4 given to you by that Crow’s Nest Priest: ‘No hindrances, and therefore, no terror or fear; he is far removed from error and delusion’? Only you must

Sweep away the filth of your mind,

And wash off the dust by your ears.

Not tasting the most painful of pain,

You’ll never be a man among men.

You mustn’t worry, for if you have old Monkey, everything will be all right even if the sky collapses. Don’t be afraid of any tiger or wolf!”

Pulling in the reins of his horse, the elder said, “Since I

Departed Chang’an that year by decree,

My sole thought fixed on Buddha in the West—

That bright, golden image in Śārī-land,

Those jade-white brows in the pagoda blessed.

I searched through this world’s waters without name;

I climbed all the mountains unscaled by man.

Fold upon fold the mists and waves extend,

When can I myself true leisure attain?”

When Pilgrim heard what he said, he roared with laughter, saying, “If Master wants true leisure, it’s not that difficult! When you achieve your merit, then all the nidānas5 will cease and all forms will be but emptiness. At that time, leisure will come to you most naturally.” Hearing these words, the elder had to be content to put aside his anxiety and urge his horse on. Master and disciples began to ascend the mountain, which was truly rugged and treacherous. Marvelous mountain!

The tall, rugged peak;

The sharp, pointed summit.

Within the deep, winding brook—

Beside the lone, rugged cliff—

Within the deep, winding brook

You hear water loudly splashing as a serpent turns;

Beside the lone, rugged cliff

You see the big mountain tiger wagging its tail.

Look above:

The jutting peaks stab through the green sky.

Turn your eyes:

The canyon’s deep and dark as the empyrean.

Start climbing:

It’s like a ladder, a stair.

Walk down there:

It’s like a moat, a ditch.

It’s truly a weird, hillocked range;

It’s indeed a steep-banked precipice.

On top of the hillocked range

The herb-picker is wary of walking;

Before the precipice

The woodsman finds it hard to move an inch!

Foreign goats and wild horses madly gallop;

Wily hares and mountain bulls seem to form in ranks.

The mountain’s height does hide the sun and stars;

One often meets strange creatures and white wolves.

Through dense grassy path the horse can hardly pass.

How could one see Buddha at Thunderclap?

As the elder pulled back his horse to survey this mountain, which was so difficult to ascend, he saw a woodcutter standing on the green slope above. “How was he dressed?” you ask.

His head wore an old rain hat of blue felt;

He had on him a monk-robe of black wool.

The old rain hat of blue felt:

Indeed a rare thing to ward off sunlight and mists;

The monk-robe of black wool:

A sign of utter contentment rarely seen.

His hands held a steel ax polished highly;

He tied his machete-cut firewood firmly.

The spring hues at the ends of his pole

Quietly overflowed in all four seasons;

His carefree life as a recluse

Had always been blessed by the Three Stars.6

He resigned himself to grow old in his lot.

What glory or shame could invade his world?

That woodcutter

Was just chopping firewood before the slope,

When the elder came abruptly from the East.

He stopped his ax to go out of the woods

And walked with big strides up the rocky ledge.

In a severe voice, he cried out to the elder, “The elder who is going toward the West, please stop for a moment. I have something to tell you. There is a bunch of vicious demons and cruel monsters in this mountain devoted to eating travelers who come from the East and go toward the West.”

When the elder heard what he said, his spirit left him and his soul fled. He shook so violently that he could hardly sit on the saddle. Turning around quickly, he shouted to his disciples, “Did you hear what the wood-cutter said about the vicious demons and cruel monsters? Which of you dare go and ask him in greater detail?”

“Master, relax!” said Pilgrim. “Old Monkey will go and question him thoroughly.”

Dear Pilgrim! He strode up the mountain and addressed the woodcutter as “Big Brother” before bowing to him with folded hands. The woodcutter returned his greeting, saying, “Elder, why did you people come here?” “To tell you the truth, Big Brother,” said Pilgrim, “we were sent from the Land of the East to go acquire scriptures in the Western Heaven. That one on the horse is my master. He is rather timid; when he heard just now what you said about vicious demons and cruel monsters, he asked me to question you. For how many years have there been demons and monsters? Are they real professionals, or are they just amateurs? Let Big Brother take the trouble to tell me, so that I may order the mountain god and the local spirit to send them away in custody.” When the woodcutter heard these words, he faced the sky and roared with laughter, saying, “So, you are really a mad monk!” “I am not mad,” said Pilgrim, “and this is the honest truth.” “If you are honest,” said the woodcutter, “how dare you talk about sending them away in custody?” Pilgrim said, “The way you are magnifying their power, the way you have stopped us with your foolish announcement and silly report, could it be that you are somehow related to these monsters? If you are not a relative, you must be a neighbor; if not a neighbor, you must be a friend.”

“You mad, impudent monk!” said the woodcutter, laughing. “You are so unreasonable! My intentions were good and that was why I made a special effort to bring this message to you, so that you could take precaution at all times when you journey. Now you are blaming me instead. Let’s not say just yet that I don’t know anything about the origin of those monsters. But suppose you have found that out, how would you dispose of them? Where would you send them away in custody?”

“If they are demons from Heaven,” said Pilgrim, “I’ll send them to see the Jade Emperor. If they are demons of Earth, I’ll send them to the Palace of Earth. Those of the West will be returned to Buddha; those of the East will be returned to the sages; those of the North will be returned to Zhenwu;7 those of the South will be returned to Mars.8 If they are dragon spirits, they will be sent to the Lords of Oceans; if they are ghosts and ogres, they will be sent to King Yama. Every class has its proper place and direction, and old Monkey is familiar with all of them. All I need to do is to issue a court order, and they will be sent off in a hurry. Even at night!”

The woodcutter could hardly stop his scornful laughter, saying, “You mad, impudent monk! You must have made a pilgrimage to some place and learned some paltry magic of drawing up charms and casting spells with water. You may be able to drive away demons and suppress ghosts, but you have never run into such vicious and cruel monsters.” “In what way are they vicious and cruel?” asked Pilgrim. The woodcutter said, “The length of this mountain range is about six hundred miles, and it’s called the Level-Top Mountain. In the mountain is a cave by the name of Lotus-Flower Cave. There are two old demons in the cave who had portraits made with the intent to catch the priests, and who had names and surnames written down because they insisted on eating the Tang Monk. If you have come from another region, you might get by, but if you are in any way associated with the word ‘Tang’ you’ll never pass here.” “We are exactly those who have come from the Tang court,” said Pilgrim. The woodcutter said, “And they specifically want to devour you.”

“Lucky! Lucky!” said Pilgrim. “How would they like to eat us?” “Why do you ask?” said the woodcutter. “If they want to eat me headfirst,” said Pilgrim, “it’s still manageable, but if they want to eat me feetfirst, it’ll be more bothersome.” The woodcutter asked, “What’s the difference between eating you headfirst and feetfirst?”

“You haven’t experienced this,” replied Pilgrim. “If he eats me headfirst, one bite will kill me, of course. Even if he were to fry, saute, braise, or boil me thereafter, I wouldn’t know the pain. But if he eats me feetfirst, he can start by munching on my shanks and then proceed to gnaw on my thighs. He can devour me up to my pelvic bones, and I still might not die in a hurry. Will I not be left to suffer bit by bit? That’s why it is bothersome.”

“Monk,” said the woodcutter, “he is not going to spend all that effort on you. All he wants is to catch you and have you bound in a large steamer. Once you are cooked, he’ll eat you whole!” “That’s even better! That’s even better!” said Pilgrim, chuckling. “There won’t be pain; I have to endure a little stuffiness, that’s all.” “Don’t be so sassy, monk,” said the woodcutter, “for those monsters have with them five treasures which possess tremendous magic powers. Even if you happen to be the jade pillar that holds up the sky, or the golden bridge that spans the ocean, if you want to protect the priest of the Tang court and pass this place safely, you will have to become a little mad.”

“For how many times?” asked Pilgrim. “At least three or four times,” replied the woodcutter. Pilgrim said, “That’s nothing! Throughout a year, we must have become mad for seven or eight hundred times. These three or four—what’s that to us? A little madness and we are through.”

Dear Great Sage! He was not at all afraid. Eager only to accompany the Tang Monk, he abandoned the woodcutter and returned with big strides to where the horse was standing before the mountain slope. “Master, it’s nothing serious,” he said. “There are a couple of puny monster-spirits, to be sure, but people around here are rather timid and overly concerned. You have me, so why worry? Let’s get going! Let’s get going!” When the elder heard what he said, he had no choice but to proceed. As they walked, the woodcutter vanished. The elder said, “Why did that woodcutter who brought us the message disappear all at once?” “Our luck must be rather poor,” said Eight Rules, “we have met a ghost in broad daylight.” “He must have crawled back into the forest to find firewood,” said Pilgrim. “Let me take a look.”

Dear Great Sage! He opened wide his fiery eyes and diamond pupils to scan the mountain far and near, but there was no trace of the woodcutter. He raised his head and suddenly saw the Day Sentinel on the edge of the clouds. Mounting the clouds, he gave chase immediately, shouting several times, “Clumsy devil!” When he caught up with the deity, he said, “If you had something to say, why didn’t you present yourself and speak plainly? Why did you have to put on all that transformation to make fun of old Monkey?” The sentinel was so frightened that he bowed before he said, “Great Sage, please do not take offense at my tardiness in bringing you the news. Those fiends do have great magic powers, and they know many ways of transformation. It’s up to you to use all your cleverness, to exercise all your divine intelligence to guard your master carefully. If you are the slightest bit negligent, you can’t get through this road to reach the Western Heaven.”

When Pilgrim heard this, he drove away the sentinel, though the words he kept firmly in his mind. Lowering the direction of his cloud, he returned to the mountain. As he saw the elder proceeding with Eight Rules and Sha Monk, he thought to himself, “If I give an honest account of what the sentinel said to Master, he will weep for sure. He’s so weak! If I don’t tell him the truth, I can put something over him and lead him forward. But as the proverb says, ‘Wading suddenly into a swamp, you can’t tell if it’s deep or shallow.’ If Master indeed were to be taken by the monsters, won’t old Monkey be asked to expend his energy again? Let me take good care of Eight Rules instead. I’m going to make him go and wage a battle with those monsters first and see what happens; if he wins, we will consider that to be his merit. If his abilities are no good and he is caught by the monsters, there will still be time for old Monkey to go rescue him. I can display my powers then and further spread my fame.”

Using the mind to question the mind, he was thus deliberating with himself: “I fear that Eight Rules is so lazy that he will refuse to volunteer his service. Master, moreover, is so protective toward him. I’ll have to use some gimmick.”

Dear Great Sage! Look at the chicanery he’s resorting to! Rubbing his eyes for awhile, he managed to squeeze out some tears as he walked back facing his master. When Eight Rules saw that, he cried out at once, “Sha Monk, put down your pole. Bring the luggage over here and we two will divide it up.” “Second Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “Why divide it up?” “Divide it!” said Eight Rules. “You can then go back to the River of Flowing Sand and become a monster again. Old Hog will return to the Old Gao Village to see how my wife is doing; we can sell the white horse and buy a coffin for Master in preparation for his old age. All of us can scatter. Why bother about going to the Western Heaven?”

When the elder heard this on the horse, he said, “This coolie! We are still journeying. What’s all this babble?” “Only your son babbles!” said Eight Rules. “Don’t you see that Pilgrim Sun is weeping over there as he walks toward us? He’s a stalwart warrior who’s not afraid of hacking by the ax, burning by fire, or even a pot of boiling oil, one who can penetrate Heaven and pierce the Earth. Now he has put on a cap of sorrow and arrived gushing tears. It has to be that the mountain is rugged, and that the monsters are truly vicious. How then do you expect weaklings like us to proceed?” The elder said, “Stop this nonsense! Let me question him and see what he says.”

He therefore asked, “Wukong, if you have something to say, let’s discuss the matter face to face. Why are you so distressed all by yourself? Are you trying to frighten me with that tearful face of yours?” “Master,” said Pilgrim, “just now the one who brought us the message happened to be the Day Sentinel. He said that the monster-spirits were most vicious, making this place a difficult one to pass through. It is indeed a treacherous road through a tall mountain. I don’t think we can go through it now; we may as well wait for another time.” When the elder heard these words, he was greatly shaken. Tugging at Pilgrim’s tiger-skin kilt, he said, “Disciple, we have covered almost half the journey. Why are you speaking such discouraging words?”

“I’m not undevoted to our cause,” said Pilgrim, “but I fear that the demons are many and my strength is limited if I have no help. As the saying goes, ‘Even if it’s a piece of iron in the furnace, how many nails can you beat out of it?’” “Disciple,” said the elder, “you have a point there. It is difficult for a single person to handle this matter, for as the military book says, ‘The few cannot withstand the many.’ But I have Eight Rules and Sha Monk here, both my disciples. I permit you to command and use them as you wish, so that they can serve as your helpers, someone to protect your flank. Only you should work together to clear up a path and lead me across this mountain. Will we not then be attaining the right fruit?”

All that legerdemain of Pilgrim, you see, was aimed at eliciting from the elder these few words. He wiped away his tears, saying, “Master, if you want to cross this mountain, Zhu Eight Rules has to agree to do two things for me. Only then will we have about a third of a chance to get by. If he doesn’t agree to help me, you might as well forget about the whole matter.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “if we can’t do it, let’s scatter. Don’t drag me down.” “Disciple,” said the elder, “let’s ask your Elder Brother first and see what he wants you to do.” Idiot indeed said to Pilgrim, “Elder Brother, what do you want me to do?”

“The first thing is to look after Master,” said Pilgrim, “and the second is to go patrol the mountain.” Eight Rules said, “Looking after Master means sitting right here, whereas to patrol the mountain means taking a walk somewhere. Do you want me to sit awhile and walk awhile? How can I do two things at once?”

“I’m not telling you to do two things at once,” said Pilgrim, “but to select one only.” “That’s easier to decide,” said Eight Rules, chuckling, “but I don’t know what’s involved in looking after Master or in patrolling the mountain. Tell me something of my duties and I can then carry them out accordingly.”

“To look after Master,” said Pilgrim, “means that if he wants to move his bowels, you wait on him; if he wants to journey, you assist him; if he wants to eat, you go to beg for vegetarian food. If he suffers from hunger even slightly, you’ll be beaten; if he pales a little, you’ll be beaten; if he loses some weight, you’ll be beaten.”

Horrified, Eight Rules said, “This is terribly difficult! Terribly difficult! To wait on him or to help him to walk—that’s nothing, and even if I have to carry him bodily, it’s still an easy matter. But if he wants to send me to beg for food, I fear that there might be those on this road to the West who won’t recognize that I’m a monk seeking scriptures. They might think that I’m a healthy hog just reaching maturity and then have me surrounded by many people with brooms, rakes, pitchforks, and all. I’ll be taken to their homes, slaughtered, and cured for the new year. Wouldn’t that be like meeting the plague?”

“Then go and patrol the mountain,” said Pilgrim.

“What does that involve?” asked Eight Rules.

Pilgrim replied, “Go into the mountain and find out how many monsters there are, what kind of mountain this is, and what kind of cave there is. We can then make plans to pass through.” “This is a small thing,” said Eight Rules. “Old Hog will go patrol the mountain.” Hitching up his garment at once, Idiot held high his muckrake and strode energetically up the road leading into the mountain.

As he watched Eight Rules leave, Pilgrim could not suppress his giggles. “You impudent ape!” scolded the elder. “As a brother, you haven’t shown the least bit of sympathy or kindness. You are constantly envious of one another. With all that base cunning, all those ‘clever words and an ingratiating appearance,’9 you have managed to trick him already into the so-called patrolling the mountain. Now you are even mocking him with your laugh!”

“I’m not mocking him,” said Pilgrim, “because there’s another meaning in my laughter. You see that Eight Rules has left, but he will not go to patrol the mountain, nor will he dare to face the monsters. He will go instead somewhere to hide for awhile and then come back to deceive us with some story that he has made up.”

“How do you know that about him?” asked the elder. Pilgrim replied, “I suspect that’s how he will behave. If you don’t believe me, let me follow him and find out. I can also lend him some assistance in subduing the monsters, and see at the same time whether he is earnest in seeking the Buddha.” “Fine! Fine! Fine!” said the elder, “but you must not play tricks on him.”

Pilgrim agreed and ran up the slope of the mountain. Shaking his body once, he changed into a tiny mole cricket, indeed a delicate and lightsome transformation. You see

Thin wings dance in the wind without effort;

A small waist sharp as a pin.

He darts through rushes and the floral shades

Faster than even a comet.

Eyes that are shining bright;

A voice that’s soft and faint.

Of insects he’s one of the smallest:

Slender, shapely, and sly.

A few times he rests idle in the secluded woods—

His whole body out of sight,

Lost to a thousand eyes.10

Spreading his wings, he flew with a buzz up there, caught up with Eight Rules, and alighted on his neck beneath the bristles behind his ear. Idiot was intent on traveling; how could he know that someone had landed on his body? After walking for seven or eight miles, he dropped his muckrake, turned around, and faced the direction of the Tang Monk. Gesturing vehemently with hands and feet, he began to let loose a string of abuses. “You doddering old priest!” he said. “You unscrupulous BanHorsePlague! You sissy Sha Monk! All of you are enjoying yourselves, but you trick old Hog into stumping the road. All of us seeking the scriptures hope to attain the right fruit, but you have to make me do this so-called patrolling the mountain. Ha, ha, ha! If there are monsters known to be in this place, we should have taken cover and tried to get by undetected. But that’s not sufficient for you; you have to make me go find them instead! Well, that’s your bad luck! I’m going to find some place and take a nap. When I am through sleeping, I’ll go back and give you a vague story about having patrolled the mountain, and that will be that!” It was the good fortune of the moment for Idiot. As he walked further along, carrying his muckrake, he discovered a clump of red grass in the fold of the mountain. He crawled inside at once and used his muckrake to create for himself some sort of floor mat. Lying down and stretching himself, he said, “O joy! Even that BanHorsePlague is not as comfortable as I am now!” But Pilgrim, you see, who had stationed himself behind his ear, heard every word. No longer able to contain himself, Pilgrim flew up and decided to badger him a little. With one shake of his body he changed again into a small woodpecker. You see

A fine bill iron hard and glossy red

And bright, gleaming patterned plumage.

Owning a pair of steel claws sharp as nails,

Famished he fears not quiet woods.

He loves best the dried trunks worm-rotted;

He cares, too, for the lonely old tree.

Round-eyed, fan-tailed, he’s very perky—

His pecking sounds are worth hearing!11

This creature was neither too big nor too small, weighing perhaps only several ounces. Armed with a red bronze-hard bill and black iron claws, he hurtled straight down from the air. Eight Rules was just sleeping soundly with head upturned when his snout received a terrific bite. So startled was Idiot that he scampered up at once, madly shouting, “A monster! A monster! He stabbed me with the lance! Oh, my mouth is sore!” He rubbed it with his hands and blood spurted out. “That’s weird!” he said, “I’m not involved in any happy event. Why has my mouth been painted red?” He stared at his bloody hands, muttering to himself confusedly, but he could not detect the least trace of movement around him. He said, “There’s no monster. Then why was I stabbed by a lance?” He raised his head to look upward and suddenly discovered a small woodpecker flying in the air. Gritting his teeth, Idiot shouted, “You wretched outcast! Isn’t it enough that BanHorsePlague should oppress me? Why must you, too, oppress me? Ah, I know! He must not have recognized that I’m a human, thinking instead that my snout is a charred, rotted tree trunk with worms inside. He’s looking for worms to eat and that’s why he gives me a bite. Let me hide my snout in my chest.”

Tumbling on the ground, Idiot again lay down to sleep. Pilgrim flew down once more and gave the base of his ear another bite. Alarmed, Idiot jumped up, saying, “This wretched outcast! He’s really harassing me! This must be where his nest is located, and he’s worried that I have taken his eggs or offspring. That’s why he’s harassing me. All right! All right! All right! I’m not going to sleep anymore.” Poling his rake, he left the red grass meadow and started up the road again. Meanwhile, Pilgrim Sun nearly broke up with amusement, the Handsome Monkey King almost collapsed with laughter. “This coolie!” he said. “Even those wide open eyes couldn’t recognize one of his own!”

Dear Great Sage! Shaking his body and changing again into a mole cricket, he attached himself firmly to Idiot’s ear once more. After walking four or five miles deep into the mountain, Idiot came upon in a valley three square slabs of green rock, each about the size of a table. Putting down his rake, Idiot bowed deeply to the rocks. Laughing silently to himself, Pilgrim said, “This Idiot! The rocks are no humans; they know neither how to talk nor how to return his greeting. Why bow to them? That’s truly blind homage!” But Idiot, you see, pretended that the rocks were the Tang Monk, Sha Monk, and Pilgrim. Facing the three of them, Idiot was rehearsing what he would say. Said he, “This time when I go back to see Master, I’ll say that there are monsters, should they ask me. And if they ask me what kind of mountain this is, I’ll say that it’s molded of clay, made of mud, wrought of tin, forged by copper, steamed with flour, plastered with paper, and painted with the brush. If they claim that I’m speaking idiotic words, I’m going to say some more. I’ll say that this is a rocky mountain. If they ask me what sort of a cave there is, I’ll say there is a rocky cave. If they ask me what kind of doors there are, I’ll say there are sheet-iron doors studded with nails. If they ask me how deep is the cave inside, I’ll say that there are some three sections in the dwelling. If they persist in trying to learn everything, such as how many nails there are on the door, I’ll only say that old Hog is too preoccupied to remember the exact number. Well, now that I have everything all made up, I’m going to go back to hoodwink that BanHorsePlague.” Having fabricated his story, Idiot dragged his rake along to retrace his steps. He did not know, however, that Pilgrim heard everything behind his ear. When Pilgrim saw him turning back, he stretched his wings and flew back first, changing back to his original form to see his master. “Wukong, so you have come back,” said the master. “Why don’t we see Wuneng also?”

“He’s just making up some lies,” said Pilgrim, chuckling. “He’ll be here soon.”

The elder said, “A person like him who has his eyes covered by his ears has to be a stupid fellow. What sort of lies can he make up? It’s got to be some hum-buggery of yours again, trying to put the blame on him.”

“Master,” said Pilgrim, “you are always covering up his faults. What I have to tell you, however, is based on evidence.” He thereupon gave a complete account of how Idiot crawled into the clump of grass to sleep and was bitten by the woodpecker, and how he bowed to the rocks and made up the story on monster-spirits in the rocky mountain, in the rocky cave with the sheet-iron doors. After he finished, Idiot came walking back in a little while. As he was afraid that he might forget what he had made up, he was still rehearsing with head bowed when Pilgrim shouted at him, “Idiot, what are you reciting?” Sticking up his ears so that he could glance around, Eight Rules said, “I’m back at the old homestead!” He went forward and knelt down, but the elder raised him up, saying, “Disciple, you must be tired!” “Yes,” said Eight Rules, “the person who walks or climbs mountains is the one most tired.”

“Are there any monsters?” asked the elder. Eight Rules said, “Yes, yes! There is a whole bunch of them!” “How did they treat you?” asked the elder. Eight Rules said, “They called me Ancestor Hog and Grandfather Hog; they also prepared some vegetarian food and soup noodles for me to eat, saying that they would put on a big parade to take us across this mountain.” “Could this be your talking in your dreams, after you have fallen asleep in the grass?” asked Pilgrim. When Idiot heard the question, he was so astounded that he almost lost two inches of his height, saying, “O Father! How could he know about my sleeping?”

Pilgrim went forward and caught hold of him, saying, “You come over here! Let me ask you!” Idiot became even more alarmed; trembling all over, he said, “You can ask me anything. Why do you have to grab me like that?” “What kind of a mountain is there?” asked Pilgrim. Eight Rules said, “It’s a rocky mountain.” “What kind of a cave?” “It’s a rocky cave,” he said. “What kind of doors are there?” Pilgrim asked. “There are sheet-iron doors studded with nails,” he said. “How deep is the cave inside?” “There are three sections inside,” he said. “No need for you to say any more,” said Pilgrim. “I can remember the last part quite clearly, but because I fear that Master still won’t believe me, I’ll say that for you.” “You sneak!” said Eight Rules. “You didn’t even go with me! What do you know that you can say for me?” “How many nails are there on the doors?” said Pilgrim, laughing, “Just say that old Hog is too preoccupied to remember clearly. Isn’t that about right?” Idiot was so frightened that he fell on his knees at once. Pilgrim said, “You bowed to the rocks and began speaking to them as if they were the three of us. Isn’t that right? You also said, ‘Let me make up this story so that I can go hoodwink that BanHorsePlague.’ Isn’t that right also?” “Elder Brother,” said Idiot, kowtowing unceasingly, “could it be that you accompanied me when I went to patrol the mountain?” “You overstuffed coolie!” scolded Pilgrim. “This is an important area. We asked you to go patrol the mountain, and you went to sleep instead. If the woodpecker hadn’t jabbed you up, you would still be sleeping there. After you were roused, you even made up such a big lie. You could completely ruin our important enterprise, couldn’t you? Stick out your shanks at once, and you’ll receive five strokes of the rod as a keepsake.”

Horrified, Eight Rules said, “That funeral staff is very heavy: a little touch and my skin will collapse, a little brush and my tendons will snap. Five strokes mean certain death for me.” Pilgrim said, “If you are afraid of being beaten, why do you lie?” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “it’s just this once. I’ll never dare do that again.” “All right,” said Pilgrim, “I’ll give you just three strokes this time.” “O Father!” said Eight Rules. “I can’t even bear half a stroke!” Without any alternative, Idiot caught hold of the master and said, “You must speak for me.”

The elder said, “When Wukong told me that you were making up this lie, I would not believe him. Now that it is really so, you certainly deserve to be beaten. But we are trying to cross this mountain at the moment, and we need everyone we can use. So Wukong, you may as well spare him now. Let’s cross the mountain first, and then you can beat him.” Pilgrim said, “The ancients said, ‘To obey the sentiments of one’s parents is to perform a great filial act.’ If Master tells me not to beat you, I’ll spare you for the moment. You must go to patrol the mountain again. If you start lying and botch things up once more, I’ll not spare you from even one stroke!”

Idiot had no choice but to scamper up and leave on the main road. Look at him! As he walked along this time, he was haunted by suspicion, supposing with every step of the way that the transformed Pilgrim was following him. As soon as he came upon an object or thing, he would immediately suspect that it was Pilgrim. After he had gone for about seven or eight miles, he saw a tiger running across the slope. Undaunted, he lifted up his muckrake and said, “Elder Brother, did you come again to listen to my fibs? I told you I wouldn’t do that anymore.” As he walked further, a violent mountain gust toppled a dead tree, which rolled up to him. Pounding his chest and stamping his feet, he cried, “Elder Brother! Why did you do this? I told you I would not try to deceive you anymore. Why did you have to change into a tree to strike at me?” He proceeded still further and saw in the air a white-necked old crow, which squawked several times overhead. He said again, “Elder Brother, aren’t you ashamed of yourself? I told you I wouldn’t lie anymore. Why did you still change into an old crow? Are you trying to eavesdrop on me again?” But this time Pilgrim, you see, did not follow him; he was simply ridden with suspicion and surmise, and we shall speak no more of him for the moment.

We now tell you about the mountain, which was named Level-Top Mountain, in which there was a cave called the Lotus-Flower Cave. There were two fiends in the cave: one had the name of the Great King Golden Horn and the other, the Great King Silver Horn. As they sat in the cave that day, Golden Horn said to Silver Horn, “Brother, how long has it been since we patrolled the mountain?” Silver Horn said, “It’s been half a month.” “Brother,” said Golden Horn, “go and patrol it today.” Silver Horn said, “Why today?” “You don’t know what I heard recently,” said Golden Horn, “that the Tang emperor in the Land of the East had sent his royal brother, the Tang Monk, to worship Buddha in the West. He has three other companions by the names of Pilgrim Sun, Zhu Eight Rules, and Sha Monk; including the horse, there are five of them altogether. Go see where they are and capture them for me.” Silver Horn said, “If we want to eat people, we can catch a few anywhere. Where can these monks be? Let them pass.” Golden Horn said, “You don’t know about this. The year when I left the Heavenly Region, I heard people say that the Tang Monk is the incarnation of the Elder Gold Cicada, a man who has practiced religion for ten existences, and one who has not allowed any of his yang energy to be dissipated. If anyone can have a taste of his flesh, his age will be vastly lengthened.” “If eating his flesh,” said Silver Horn, “can lengthen our age and prolong our lives, what need we to practice sedentary meditation, to arrive at certain attainment, to cultivate the dragon and the tiger, or to achieve the union of the male and the female?12 We should just eat him. Let me go and catch him at once.”

Golden Horn said, “Brother, you are rather impulsive. Let’s not hurry. If you walk out this door and grab any monk that comes along, you would be breaking the law unnecessarily if he were not the Tang Monk. I still recall how the real Tang Monk looks. Let’s have portraits made of the master and his disciples that you can take along with you. When you see some monks, you can check whether they are the real ones.” He thereupon had portraits drawn up, and the name of each person was written beside the picture. Taking the sketches with him, Silver Horn left the cave after calling up thirty little fiends to follow him to patrol the mountain.

We now tell you about Eight Rules, whose fortune was about to take a turn for the worse. As he walked along, he ran right into the various demons, who barred his way and asked, “Who is he that’s approaching?” Raising his head and pushing his ears aside, Idiot saw that they were demons and he became quite frightened. He said to himself, “If I say that I’m a monk going to seek scriptures, they may want to seize me. I’d better say I’m only a traveler.” The little fiends reported back to their master, saying, “Great King, it’s a traveler.” Among those thirty little fiends, there were some who did not recognize Eight Rules. There were a few, however, who found his face somewhat familiar, and pointing at him, they said, “Great King, this monk looks like the portrait of Zhu Eight Rules.” The old fiend told them at once to hang up the picture so that they could examine it more closely. When Eight Rules saw it, he was greatly shaken, muttering to himself, “No wonder I feel somewhat dispirited of late! They have caught my spirit in this portrait!” As the little fiends held up the picture with their spears, Silver Horn pointed with his hand, saying, “This one riding the white horse is the Tang Monk, and this one with a hairy face is Pilgrim Sun.” Hearing this, Eight Rules said, “City Guardian, it’s all right if I’m not included! I’ll present you with three hog’s heads, twenty-four portions of pure libation . . .” Mumbling to himself repeatedly, he kept making all sorts of vows.

The fiend, meanwhile, went on to say, “That long dark one is Sha Monk, and this one having a long snout and huge ears is Zhu Eight Rules.” When Idiot heard what he said, he was so startled that he lowered his snout toward his chest and tried to conceal it. “Monk, stick out your mouth,” cried the fiend. “It’s a birth defect,” said Eight Rules. “I can’t stick it out.” The fiend told the imps to pull it out with hooks, and Eight Rules became so alarmed that he stuck out his snout at once, saying, “It’s no more than a homely feature! Here it is! If you want to look at it, just look. Why do you want to use hooks?”

Recognizing that it was Eight Rules, the fiend took out his precious blade and hacked away. Idiot parried the blow with his rake, saying, “My child, don’t be brazen! Watch my rake!” The fiend said with a chuckle, “This man became a monk in the middle of life.” “Dear child!” said Eight Rules. “You do have some intelligence! How do you know right away that your father became a monk in the middle of life?” “If you know how to use the rake,” said the fiend, “you must have stolen it after hoeing the fields or gardens of some household.” Eight Rules said, “My child, you won’t recognize the rake of your father, for it is not like any ordinary rake for hoeing the ground. We have here

Huge teeth made in the shape of dragon claws,

Adorned with gold and like a tiger formed.

When used in battle it draws down cold wind;

When brought to combat it emits bright flames.

It can for Tang Monk all barriers remove,

Catch all monsters on this road to the West.

When it’s wielded, mists hide the sun and moon;

When it’s held high, clouds make dim the pole stars.

It knocks down Mount Tai and tigers panic;

It o’erturns oceans and dragons cower.

Though you, monster, may have many skills,

One rake will nine bloody holes produce!”

The fiend heard the words, but he was not ready to step aside. Wielding his sword of seven stars,13 he charged Eight Rules and they closed in again and again in the mountain. Even after some twenty rounds, neither appeared to be the stronger one. Growing more and more fierce, Eight Rules began to fight as if he had no regard whatever for his life. When the fiend saw how his opponent flapped his huge ears and spat out saliva, whooping and yelling all the time, he became somewhat frightened. He therefore turned around to call up all his little fiends to do battle. Now, if it were a one-to-one combat, it would have been manageable for Eight Rules. But when he saw all those little fiends approaching, he panicked and turned to flee. The road, however, was not very smooth and he immediately tripped over some vines and dried creepers along the way. As he was struggling to run, one of the little fiends made a flying tackle at his legs, and he hit the ground headfirst like a dog eating shit! The others swarmed all over him, pressing him on the ground, pulling at his mane and his ears, grabbing his legs, and tugging at his tail. They hoisted him up bodily to return to the cave. Alas! Thus it is that

A whole body bursting with demons is hard to destroy;

Ten thousand ills arise, they are tough to remove.

We do not know what happens to the life of Zhu Eight Rules; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.