第十四回

第十四回 心猿归正 六贼无踪

诗曰：

佛即心兮心即佛，心佛从来皆要物。

若知无物又无心，便是真如法身佛。

法身佛，没模样，一颗圆光涵万象。

无体之体即真体，无相之相即实相。

非色非空非不空，不来不向不回向。

无异无同无有无，难舍难取难听望。

内外灵光到处同，一佛国在一沙中。

一粒沙含大千界，一个身心万个同。

知之须会无心诀，不染不滞为净业。

善恶千端无所为，便是南无释迦叶。

却说那刘伯钦与唐三藏惊惊慌慌，又闻得叫声“师父来也”。众家僮道：“这叫的必是那山脚下石匣中老猿。”太保道：“是他！是他！”三藏问：“是甚么老猿？”太保道：“这山旧名五行山，因我大唐王征西定国，改名两界山。先年间曾闻得老人家说：‘王莽篡汉之时，天降此山，下压着一个神猴，不怕寒暑，不吃饮食，自有土神监押，教他饥餐铁丸，渴饮铜汁，自昔到今，冻饿不死。’这叫必定是他。长老莫怕，我每下山去看来。”三藏只得依从，牵马下山。行不数里，只见那石匣之间，果有一猴，露着头，伸着手，乱招手道：“师父，你怎么此时才来？来得好！来得好！救我出来，我保你上西天去也！”这长老近前细看，你道他是怎生模样：

尖嘴朔[2]腮，金睛火眼。头上堆苔藓，耳中生薜萝。鬓边少发多青草，颔下无须有绿莎。眉间土，鼻凹泥，十分狼狈；指头粗，手掌厚，尘垢馀多。还喜得眼睛转动，喉舌声和。语言虽利便，身体莫能那[3]。正是五百年前孙大圣，今朝难满脱天罗。

刘太保诚然胆大，走上前来，与他拔去了鬓边草，颔下莎，问道：“你有甚么说话？”那猴道：“我没话说。教那个师父上来，我问他一问。”三藏道：“你问我甚么？”那猴道：“你可是东土大王差往西天取经去的么？”三藏道：“我正是。你问怎么？”那猴道：“我是五百年前大闹天宫的齐天大圣。只因犯了诳上之罪，被佛祖压于此处。前者有个观音菩萨，领佛旨意，上东土寻取经人。我教他救我一救，他劝我再莫行凶，归依佛法，尽殷勤保护取经人往西方拜佛，功成后自有好处。故此昼夜提心，晨昏吊胆，只等师父来救我脱身。我愿保你取经，与你做个徒弟。”三藏闻言，满心欢喜道：“你虽有此善心，又蒙菩萨教诲，愿入沙门，只是我又没斧凿，如何救得你出？”那猴道：“不用斧凿，你但肯救我，我自出来也。”三藏道：“我自救你，你怎得出来？”那猴道：“这山顶上有我佛如来的金字压帖。你只上山去将帖儿揭起，我就出来了。”三藏依言，遂回头央浼刘伯钦道：“太保呵，我与你上山走一遭。”伯钦道：“不知真假何如！”那猴高叫道：“是真！决不敢虚谬！”伯钦只得呼唤家僮牵了马匹，他却扶着三藏复上高山。攀藤附葛，只行到那极巅之处，果然见金光万道，瑞气千条，有块四方大石，石上贴着一封皮，却是“唵、嘛、呢、叭、、吽”六个金字。三藏近前跪下，朝石头看着金字，拜了几拜，望西祷祝道：“弟子陈玄奘，特奉旨意求经，果有徒弟之分，揭得金字，救出神猴，同证灵山；若无徒弟之分，此辈是个凶顽怪物，哄赚弟子，不成吉庆，便揭不得起。”祝罢，又拜。拜毕，上前将六个金字轻轻揭下。只闻得一阵香风，劈手把压帖儿刮在空中，叫道：“吾乃监押大圣者。今日他的难满，吾等回见如来，缴此封皮去也。”吓得个三藏与伯钦一行人，望空礼拜。径下高山，又至石匣边，对那猴道：“揭了压帖矣，你出来么。”那猴欢喜，叫道：“师父，你请走开些，我好出来。莫惊了你。”

伯钦听说，领着三藏，一行人回东即走。走了五七里远近，又听得那猴高叫道：“再走！再走！”三藏又行了许远，下了山，只闻得一声响亮，真个是地裂山崩。众人尽皆悚惧。只见那猴早到了三藏的马前，赤淋淋跪下，道声：“师父，我出来也！”对三藏拜了四拜，急起身，与伯钦唱个大喏道：“有劳大哥送我师父，又承大哥替我脸上薅[4]草。”谢毕，就去收拾行李，扣背马匹。那马见了他，腰软蹄矬，战兢兢的立站不住。盖因那猴原是弼马温，在天上看养龙马的，有些法则，故此凡马见他害怕。

三藏见他意思，实有好心，真个像沙门中的人物，便叫：“徒弟啊，你姓甚么？”猴王道：“我姓孙。”三藏道：“我与你起个法名，却好呼唤。”猴王道：“不劳师父盛意。我原有个法名，叫做孙悟空。”三藏欢喜道：“也正合我们的宗派。你这个模样，就像那小头陀一般，我再与你起个混名，称为行者，好么？”悟空道：“好！好！好！”自此时又称为孙行者。

那伯钦见孙行者一心收拾要行，却转身对三藏唱个喏道：“长老，你幸此间收得个好徒，甚喜，甚喜！此人果然去得。我却告回。”三藏躬身作礼相谢道：“多有拖步，感激不胜。回府多多致意令堂老夫人，令荆夫人，贫僧在府多扰，容回时踵谢[5]。”伯钦回礼，遂此两下分别。

却说那孙行者请三藏上马，他在前边背着行李，赤条条，拐步而行。不少时，过了两界山，忽然见一只猛虎，咆哮剪尾而来。三藏在马上惊心。行者在路旁欢喜道：“师父莫怕他。他是送衣服与我的。”放下行李，耳朵里拔出一个针儿，迎着风幌一幌，原来是个碗来粗细一条铁棒。他拿在手中，笑道：“这宝贝，五百馀年不曾用着他，今日拿出来挣件衣服儿穿穿。”你看他拽开步，迎着猛虎，道声：“业畜！那里去！”那只虎蹲着身，伏在尘埃，动也不敢动动。却被他照头一棒，就打的脑浆迸万点桃红，牙齿喷几珠玉块，唬得那陈玄奘滚鞍落马，咬指道声：“天那！天那！刘太保前日打的斑斓彪，还与他斗了半日；今日孙悟空不用争持，把这虎一棒打得稀烂，正是‘强中更有强中手’！”

行者拖将虎来道：“师父略坐一坐，等我脱下他的衣服来，穿了走路。”三藏道：“他那里有甚衣服？”行者道：“师父莫管我，我自有处置。”好猴王，把毫毛拔下一根，吹口仙气叫：“变！”变作一把牛耳尖刀，从那虎腹上挑开皮，往下一剥，剥下个囫囵皮来；剁去了爪甲，割下头来，割个四四方方一块虎皮，提起来，量了一量道：“阔了些儿。一幅可作两幅。”拿过刀来，又裁为两幅。收起一幅，把一幅围在腰间，路旁揪了一条葛藤，紧紧束定，遮了下体道：“师父，且去！且去！到了人家，借些针线，再缝不迟。”他把条铁棒捻一捻，依旧像个针儿，收在耳里，背着行李，请师父上马。

两个前进，长老在马上问道：“悟空，你才打虎的铁棒，如何不见？”行者笑道：“师父，你不晓得。我这棍，本是东洋大海龙宫里得来的，唤做‘天河镇底神珍铁’，又唤做‘如意金箍棒’。当年大反天宫，甚是亏他。随身变化，要大就大，要小就小。刚才变做一个绣花针儿模样，收在耳内矣。但用时，方可取出。”三藏闻言暗喜，又问道：“方才那只虎见了你，怎么就不动动，让自在[6]打他，何说？”悟空道：“不瞒师父说，莫道是只虎，就是一条龙，见了我也不敢无礼。我老孙颇有降龙伏虎的手段，翻江搅海的神通；见貌辨色，聆音察理；大之则量于宇宙，小之则摄于毫毛；变化无端，隐显莫测。剥这个虎皮，何为稀罕？见到那疑难处，看展本事么！”三藏闻得此言，愈加放怀无虑，策马前行。师徒两个走着路，说着话，不觉得太阳星坠。但见：

焰焰斜辉返照，天涯海角归云。千山鸟雀噪声频，觅宿投林成阵。　野兽双双对对，回窝族族群群。一钩新月破黄昏，万点明星光晕。

行者道：“师父走动些，天色晚了。那壁厢树木森森，想必是人家庄院，我们赶早投宿去来。”三藏果策马而行，径奔人家，到了庄院前下马。行者撇了行李，走上前，叫声：“开门！开门！”那里面有一老者扶筇[7]而出，唿喇的开了门，看见行者这般恶相，腰系着一块虎皮，好似个雷公模样，唬得脚软身麻，口出谵语[8]道：“鬼来了！鬼来了！”三藏近前搀住，叫道：“老施主，休怕。他是我贫僧的徒弟，不是鬼怪。”老者抬头，见了三藏的面貌清奇，方然立定，问道：“你是那寺里来的和尚，带这恶人上我门来？”三藏道：“我贫僧是唐朝来的，往西天拜佛求经。适路过此间，天晚，特造檀府[9]借宿一宵，明早不犯天光[10]就行。万望方便一二。”老者道：“你虽是个唐人，那个恶的，却非唐人。”悟空厉声高呼道：“你这个老儿全没眼色！唐人是我师父，我是他徒弟！我也不是甚‘糖人，蜜人’，我是齐天大圣。你们这里人家，也有认得我的。我也曾见你来。”那老者道：“你在那里见我？”悟空道：“你小时不曾在我面前扒柴？不曾在我脸上挑菜？”老者道：“这厮胡说！你在那里住？我在那里住？我来你面前扒柴、挑菜！”悟空道：“我儿子便胡说！你是认不得我了，我本是这两界山石匣中的大圣。你再认认看。”老者方才省悟道：“你倒有些像他；但你是怎么得出来的？”悟空将菩萨劝善，“令我等待唐僧揭帖脱身”之事，对那老者细说了一遍。老者却才下拜，将唐僧请到里面，即唤老妻与儿女都来相见，具言前事，个个忻喜。又命看茶。茶罢，问悟空道：“大圣啊，你也有年纪了？”悟空道：“你今年几岁了？”老者道：“我痴长一百三十岁了。”行者道：“还是我重子重孙哩！我那生身的年纪，我不记得是几时；但只在这山脚下，已五百馀年了。”老者道：“是有，是有。我曾记得祖公公说，此山乃从天降下，就压了一个神猴。只到如今，你才脱体。我那小时见你，是你头上有草，脸上有泥，还不怕你；如今脸上无了泥，头上无了草，却像瘦了些，腰间又苫[11]了一块大虎皮，与鬼怪能差多少？”

一家儿听得这般话说，都呵呵大笑。这老儿颇贤，即令安排斋饭。饭后，悟空道：“你家姓甚？”老者道：“舍下姓陈。”三藏闻言，即下来起手道：“老施主，与贫僧是华宗[12]。”行者道：“师父，你是唐姓，怎的和他是华宗？”三藏道：“我俗家也姓陈，乃是唐朝海州弘农郡聚贤庄人氏。我的法名叫做陈玄奘。只因我大唐太宗皇帝赐我做御弟三藏，指唐为姓，故名唐僧也。”那老者见说同姓，又十分欢喜。行者道：“老陈，左右打搅你家。我有五百多年不洗澡了。你可去烧些汤来，与我师徒们洗浴洗浴，一发临行谢你。”那老儿即令烧汤拿盆，掌上灯火。师徒浴罢，坐在灯前。行者道：“老陈，还有一事累你，有针线借我用用。”那老儿道：“有，有，有。”即教妈妈取针线来，递与行者。行者又有眼色：见师父洗浴，脱下一件白布短小直裰[13]未穿，他即扯过来披在身上，却将那虎皮脱下，联接一处，打一个马面样的折子，围在腰间，勒了藤条，走到师父面前道：“老孙今日这等打扮，比昨日如何？”三藏道：“好！好！好！这等样才像个行者。”三藏道：“徒弟，你不嫌残旧，那件直裰儿，你就穿了罢。”悟空唱个喏道：“承赐！承赐！”他又去寻些草料喂了马。此时各各事毕，师徒与那老儿亦各归寝。

次早，悟空起来，请师父走路。三藏着衣，教行者收拾铺盖行李。正欲告辞，只见那老儿早具脸汤，又具斋饭。斋罢，方才起身。三藏上马，行者引路。不觉饥餐渴饮，夜宿晓行，又值初冬时候。但见那：

霜凋红叶千林瘦，岭上几株松柏秀。未开梅蕊散香幽，暖短昼，小春候，菊残荷尽山茶茂。　寒桥古树争枝斗，曲涧涓涓泉水溜。淡云欲雪满天浮，朔风骤，牵衣袖，向晚寒威人怎受？

师徒们正走多时，忽见路旁唿哨一声，闯出六个人来，各执长枪短剑，利刃强弓，大咤一声道：“那和尚！那里走！赶早留下马匹，放下行李，饶你性命过去！”唬得那三藏魂飞魄散，跌下马来，不能言语。行者用手扶起道：“师父放心，没些儿事。这都是送衣服送盘缠与我们的。”三藏道：“悟空，你想有些耳闭？他说教我们留马匹、行李，你倒问他要甚么衣服、盘缠？”行者道：“你管守着衣服、行李、马匹，待老孙与他争持一场，看是何如。”三藏道：“好手不跌双拳，双拳不如四手。他那里六条大汉，你这般小小的一个人儿，怎么敢与他争持？”

行者的胆量原大，那容分说，走上前来，叉手当胸，对那六个人施礼道：“列位有甚么缘故，阻我贫僧的去路？”那人道：“我等是剪径[14]的大王，行好心的山主。大名久播，你量不知。早早的留下东西，放你过去；若道半个‘不’字，教你碎尸粉骨！”行者道：“我也是祖传的大王，积年的山主，却不曾闻得列位有甚大名。”那人道：“你是不知，我说与你听：一个唤作眼看喜，一个唤作耳听怒，一个唤作鼻嗅爱，一个唤作舌尝思，一个唤作意见欲，一个唤作身本忧。”悟空笑道：“原来是六个毛贼！你却不认得我这出家人是你的主人公，你倒来挡路。把那打劫的珍宝拿出来，我与你作七分儿均分，饶了你罢！”那贼闻言，喜的喜，怒的怒，爱的爱，思的思，忧的忧，欲的欲，一齐上前乱嚷道：“这和尚无礼！你的东西全然没有，转来和我等要分东西！”他抡枪舞剑，一拥前来，照行者劈头乱砍，乒乓乒乓，砍有七八十下。悟空停立中间，只当不知。那贼道：“好和尚！真个的头硬！”行者笑道：“将就看得过罢了！你们也打得手困了，却该老孙取出个针儿来耍耍。”那贼道：“这和尚是一个行针灸的郎中变的。我们又无病症，说甚么动针的话！”

行者伸手去耳朵里拔出一根绣花针儿，迎风一幌，却是一条铁棒，足有碗来粗细，拿在手中道：“不要走！也让老孙打一棍儿试试手！”唬得这六个贼四散逃走，被他拽开步，团团赶上，一个个尽皆打死。剥了他的衣服，夺了他的盘缠，笑吟吟走将来道：“师父请行，那贼已被老孙剿了。”三藏道：“你十分撞祸！他虽是剪径的强徒，就是拿到官司，也不该死罪；你纵有手段，只可退他去便了，怎么就都打死？这却是无故伤人的性命，如何做得和尚？出家人‘扫地恐伤蝼蚁命，爱惜飞蛾纱罩灯’。你怎么不分皂白，一顿打死？全无一点慈悲好善之心！早还是山野中无人查考，若到城市，倘有人一时冲撞了你，你也行凶，执着棍子乱打伤人，我可做得白客[15]？怎能脱身？”悟空道：“师父，我若不打死他，他却要打死你哩。”三藏道：“我这出家人，宁死决不敢行凶。我就死，也只是一身，你却杀了他六人，如何理说？此事若告到官，就是你老子做官，也说不过去。”行者道：“不瞒师父说，我老孙五百年前，据花果山称王为怪的时节，也不知打死多少人，假似你说这般到官，倒也得些状告是[16]。”三藏道：“只因你没收没管，暴横人间，欺天诳上，才受这五百年前之难。今既入了沙门，若是还像当时行凶，一味伤生，去不得西天，做不得和尚！忒恶！忒恶！”

原来这猴子一生受不得人气。他见三藏只管绪绪叨叨，按不住心头火发道：“你既是这等说我做不得和尚，上不得西天，不必恁般绪聒[17]恶我，我回去便了！”那三藏却不曾答应，他就使一个性子，将身一耸，说一声：“老孙去也！”三藏急抬头，早已不见，只闻得呼的一声，回东而去。撇得那长老孤孤零零，点头自叹，悲怨不已，道：“这厮！这等不受教诲！我但说他几句，他怎么就无形无影的，径回去了？——罢！罢！罢！也是我命里不该招徒弟，进人口！如今欲寻他无处寻，欲叫他叫不应，去来！去来！”正是舍身拼命归西去，莫倚旁人自主张。

那长老只得收拾行李，捎在马上，也不骑马，一只手拄着锡杖，一只手揪着缰绳，凄凄凉凉，往西前进。行不多时，只见山路前面，有一个年高的老母，捧一件绵衣，绵衣上有一顶花帽。三藏见他来得至近，慌忙牵马，立于右侧让行。那老母问道：“你是那里来的长老，孤孤恓恓独行于此？”三藏道：“弟子乃东土大唐奉圣旨往西天拜活佛求真经者。”老母道：“西方佛乃大雷音寺天竺国界，此去有十万八千里路。你这等单人独马，又无个伴侣，又无个徒弟，你如何去得！”三藏道：“弟子日前收得一个徒弟，他性泼凶顽，是我说了他几句，他不受教，遂渺然而去也。”老母道：“我有这一领绵布直裰，一顶嵌金花帽。原是我儿子用的。他只做了三日和尚，不幸命短身亡。我才去他寺里，哭了一场，辞了他师父，将这两件衣帽拿来，做个忆念。长老呵，你既有徒弟，我把这衣帽送了你罢。”三藏道：“承老母盛赐；但只是我徒弟已走了，不敢领受。”老母道：“他那厢去了？”三藏道：“我听得呼的一声，他回东去了。”老母道：“东边不远，就是我家，想必往我家去了。我那里还有一篇咒儿，唤做‘定心真言’，又名做‘紧箍儿咒’。你可暗暗的念熟，牢记心头，再莫泄漏一人知道。我去赶上他，教他还来跟你，你却将此衣帽与他穿戴。他若不服你使唤，你就默念此咒，他再不敢行凶，也再不敢去了。”

三藏闻言，低头拜谢。那老母化一道金光，回东而去。三藏情知是观音菩萨授此真言，急忙撮土焚香，望东恳恳礼拜。拜罢，收了衣帽，藏在包袱中间。却坐于路旁，诵习那《定心真言》。来回念了几遍，念得烂熟，牢记心胸不题。

却说那悟空别了师父，一筋斗云径转东洋大海。按住云头，分开水道，径至水晶宫前。早惊动龙王出来迎接。接至宫里坐下，礼毕，龙王道：“近闻得大圣难满，失贺！想必是重整仙山，复归古洞矣。”悟空道：“我也有此心性，只是又做了和尚了。”龙王道：“做甚和尚？”行者道：“我亏了南海菩萨劝善，教我正果，随东土唐僧，上西方拜佛，皈依沙门，又唤为‘行者’了。”龙王道：“这等真是可贺！可贺！这才叫做改邪归正，惩创善心。既如此，怎么不西去，复东回何也？”行者笑道：“那是唐僧不识人性。有几个毛贼剪径，是我将他打死，唐僧就绪绪叨叨，说了我若干的不是。你想老孙可是受得闷气的？是我撇了他，欲回本山，故此先来望你一望，求钟茶吃。”龙王道：“承降！承降！”当时龙子龙孙即捧香茶来献。

茶毕，行者回头一看，见后壁上挂著一幅“圯桥进履”的画儿。行者道：“这是甚么景致？”龙王道：“大圣在先，此事在后，故你不认得。这叫做‘圯桥三进履’。”行者道：“怎的是‘三进履’？”龙王道：“此仙乃是黄石公。此子乃是汉世张良。石公坐在圯桥上，忽然失履于桥下，遂唤张良取来。此子即忙取来，跪献于前。如此三度，张良略无一毫倨傲怠慢之心。石公遂爱他勤谨，夜授天书，着他扶汉。后果然运筹帷幄之中，决胜千里之外。太平后，弃职归山，从赤松子游，悟成仙道。大圣，你若不保唐僧，不尽勤劳，不受教诲，到底是个妖仙，休想得成正果。”悟空闻言，沉吟半晌不语。龙王道：“大圣自当裁处，不可图自在，误了前程。”悟空道：“莫多话，老孙还去保他便了。”龙王忻喜道：“既如此，不敢久留，请大圣早发慈悲，莫要疏久了你师父。”行者见他催促请行，急耸身，出离海藏，驾着云，别了龙王。

正走，却遇着南海菩萨。菩萨道：“孙悟空，你怎么不受教诲，不保唐僧，来此处何干？”慌得个行者在云端里施礼道：“向蒙菩萨善言，果有唐朝僧到，揭了压帖，救了我命，跟他做了徒弟。他却怪我凶顽，我才子闪他一闪，如今就去保他也。”菩萨道：“赶早去，莫错过了念头。”言毕，各回。

这行者，须臾间看见唐僧在路旁闷坐。他上前道：“师父！怎么不走路？还在此做甚？”三藏抬头道：“你往那里去来？教我行又不敢行，动又不敢动，只管在此等你。”行者道：“我往东洋大海老龙王家讨茶吃吃。”三藏道：“徒弟呵，出家人不要说谎。你离了我，多一个时辰，就说到龙王家吃茶？”行者笑道：“不瞒师父说：我会驾筋斗云，一个筋斗，有十万八千里路，故此得即去即来。”三藏道：“我略略的言语重了些儿，你就怪我，使个性子丢了我去。像你这有本事的，讨得茶吃；像我这去不得的，只管在此忍饿。你也过意不去呀！”行者道：“师父，你若饿了，我便去与你化些斋吃。”三藏道：“不用化斋。我那包袱里，还有些干粮，是刘太保母亲送的。你去拿钵盂寻些水来，等我吃个儿走路罢。”

行者去解开包袱，在那包裹中间见有几个粗面烧饼，拿出来递与师父。又见那光艳艳的一领绵布直裰，一顶嵌金花帽，行者道：“这衣帽是东土带来的？”三藏就顺口儿答应道：“是我小时穿戴的。这帽子若戴了，不用教经，就会念经；这衣服若穿了，不用演礼，就会行礼。”行者道：“好师父，把与我穿戴了罢。”三藏道：“只怕长短不一。你若穿得，就穿了罢。”行者遂脱下旧白布直裰，将绵布直裰穿上，也就是比量着身体裁的一般。把帽儿戴上。

三藏见他戴上帽子，就不吃干粮，却默默的念那《紧箍咒》一遍。行者叫道：“头疼！头疼！”那师父不住的又念了几遍，把个行者疼得打滚，抓破了嵌金的花帽。三藏又恐怕扯断金箍，住了口不念。不念时，他就不疼了。伸手去头上摸摸，似一条金线儿模样，紧紧的勒在上面，取不下，揪不断，已此生了根了。他就耳里取出针儿来，插入箍里，往外乱捎。三藏又恐怕他捎断了，口中又念起来，他依旧生疼，疼得竖蜻蜓，翻筋斗，耳红面赤，眼胀身麻。那师父见他这等，又不忍不舍，复住了口，他的头又不疼了。行者道：“我这头，原来是师父咒我的。”三藏道：“我念得是《紧箍经》，何曾咒你？”行者道：“你再念念看。”三藏真个又念。行者真个又疼，只教：“莫念！莫念！念动我就疼了！这是怎么说？”三藏道：“你今番可听我教诲了？”行者道：“听教了！”“你再可无礼了？”行者道：“不敢了！”

他口里虽然答应，心上还怀不善，把那针儿幌一幌，碗来粗细，望唐僧就欲下手，慌得长老口中又念了两三遍，这猴子跌倒在地，丢了铁棒，不能举手，只叫：“师父！我晓得了！再莫念！再莫念！”三藏道：“你怎么欺心，就敢打我？”行者道：“我不曾敢打。我问师父，你这法儿是谁教你的？”三藏道：“是适间一个老母传授我的。”行者大怒道：“不消讲了！这个老母，坐定是那个观世音！他怎么那等害我！等我上南海打他去！”三藏道：“此法既是他授与我，他必然先晓得了。你若寻他，他念起来，你却不是死了？”行者见说得有理，真个不敢动身，只得回心，跪下哀告道：“师父！这是他奈何我的法儿，教我随你西去。我也不去惹他，你也莫当常言只管念诵。我愿保你，再无退悔之意了。”三藏道：“既如此，伏侍我上马去也。”那行者才死心塌地，抖擞精神，束一束绵布直裰，叩背马匹，收拾行李，奔西而进。毕竟这一去，后面又有甚话说，且听下回分解。

[1] 六贼：佛教认为眼、耳、鼻、舌、身、意为六贼。

[2] 朔：“缩”的借字。

[3] 那：同“挪”。本书“挪”多作“那”。

[4] 薅（hāo）：拔草。

[5] 踵谢：登门道谢。踵，走到。

[6] 自在：任意、随意。

[7] 扶筇（qiónɡ）：拄着手杖。筇，竹名，可做手杖。

[8] 谵（zhān）语：神志不清时说的胡话。

[9] 檀府：对别人住宅的尊称。

[10] 不犯天光：不等天明。

[11] 苫（shàn）：覆、盖的意思。

[12] 华宗：原指贵显之族，后来就称同姓的人为华宗。

[13] 直裰（duō）：僧人穿的一种长袍。

[14] 剪径：指拦路抢劫。犹如说截路、短路。

[15] 白客：清白无辜的人。

[16] 是：语尾缀词，无实意。如后文第三十一回“柳柳惊是”。

[17] 绪聒：也作絮咶。噜苏、唠叨、吵闹的意思。

CHAPTER 14. Mind Monkey returns to the Right; The Six Robbers vanish from sight.1

Mind is the Buddha and the Buddha is Mind;

Both Mind and Buddha are important things.

If you perceive there’s neither Mind nor Thing,

Yours is the dharmakāya of True Mind.

The dharmakāya

Has no shape or form:

One pearl-like radiance holding myriad things.

The bodiless body is the body true,

And real form is that form which has no form.

There’s no form, no void, no no-emptiness;

No coming, no leaving, no pariṇāmanā;2

No contrast, no sameness, no being or nonbeing:

No giving, no taking, no hopeful craving.

Light efficacious is in and out the same.

Buddha’s whole realm is in a grain of sand.

A grain of sand the chiliocosm holds;

One mind or body’s like ten thousand things.

To know this you must grasp the No-mind Spell;

Unclogged and taintless is the karma pure.

Don’t do the many acts of good or ill:

This is true submission to Śākyamuni.3

We were telling you about Tripitaka and Boqin, who, in fear and alarm, again heard the cry, “My Master has come!” The various houseboys said, “It must be the old ape in that stone box beneath the mountain who is shouting.” “It’s he! It’s he!” said the Guardian. Tripitaka asked, “Who is this old ape?”

“The ancient name of this mountain,” said the Guardian, “was the Mountain of Five Phases. It was changed to the Mountain of the Two Frontiers as a result of our Great Tang ruler’s western campaigns to secure his empire. A few years ago, I heard from my elders that during the time when Wang Mang usurped the throne of the Han emperor,4 this mountain fell from Heaven with a divine monkey clamped beneath it. He feared neither heat nor cold, and he took neither food nor drink. He had been watched and guarded by the spirits of the Earth, who fed him iron balls when he was hungry and juices of bronze when he was thirsty. He has lasted from that time until now, surviving both cold and hunger. He must be the one who is making all this noise. Don’t be afraid, Elder. Let’s go down the mountain to take a look.”

Tripitaka had to agree and led his horse down the mountain. They had traveled only a few miles when they came upon a stone box in which there was indeed a monkey who, with his head sticking out, was waving his hands wildly and crying, “Master, why have you taken so long to get here? Welcome! Welcome! Get me out, and I’ll protect you on your way to the Western Heaven!” The priest went forward to look more closely at him. “How does he look?” you ask.

A pointed mouth and hollow cheeks;

Two diamond pupils and fiery eyes.

Lichens had piled on his head;

Wisteria grew in his ears.

By his temples was more green grass than hair;

Beneath his chin, moss instead of a beard.

With mud on his brow,

And earth in his nose,

He looked most desperate!

His fingers coarse

And calloused palms

Were caked in filth and dirt!

Luckily, his eyes could still roll about,

And the apish tongue, articulate.

Though in speech he had great ease,

His body he could not move.

He was the Great Sage Sun of five hundred years ago.

Today his ordeal ends, he leaves Heaven’s net.

Undeniably a courageous person, that Guardian Liu went up to the creature and pulled away some of the grass at his temples and some of the moss beneath his chin. He asked, “What do you have to say?” “Nothing to you,” said the monkey, “but ask that master to come up here. I have a question for him.”

“What’s your question?” asked Tripitaka. “Are you someone sent by the great king of the Land of the East to go seek scriptures in the Western Heaven?” asked the monkey. “I am,” said Tripitaka. “Why do you ask?”

“I am the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven,” said the monkey, “who greatly disturbed the Heavenly Palace five hundred years ago. Because of my sin of rebellion and disobedience, I was imprisoned here by the Buddha. Some time ago, a certain Bodhisattva Guanyin had received the decree of Buddha to go to the Land of the East in quest of a scripture pilgrim. I asked her to give me some help, and she persuaded me not to engage again in violence. I was told to believe in the Law of Buddha and faithfully to protect the scripture pilgrim on his way to worship Buddha in the West, for there would be a goodly reward reserved for me when such merit is achieved. I have therefore been maintaining my vigilance night and day, waiting for the Master to come to rescue me. I’m willing to protect you in your quest of scriptures and become your disciple.”

When Tripitaka heard these words, he was filled with delight and said, “Though you have this good intention, thanks to the Bodhisattva’s instruction, of entering our Buddhist fold, I have neither ax nor drill. How can I free you?” “No need for ax or drill,” said the monkey. “If you are willing to rescue me, I’ll be able to get out.” Tripitaka said, “I’m willing, but how can you get out?” “On top of this mountain,” said the monkey, “there is a tag stamped with the golden letters of our Buddha Tathāgata. Go up there and lift up the tag. Then I’ll come out.” Tripitaka agreed and turned to Boqin, imploring him, “Guardian, come with me up the mountain.” “Do you think he’s speaking the truth?” asked Boqin. “It’s the truth!” the monkey shouted. “I dare not lie!”

Boqin had no choice but to call his houseboys to lead the horses. He himself supported Tripitaka with his hands, and they again started up the tall mountain. Tugging at creepers and vines, they finally arrived at the highest peak, where they beheld ten thousand shafts of golden light and a thousand folds of hallowed air. There was a huge square slab of stone, on which was taped a seal with the golden letters, Oṁ maṇi padme hūṁ. Tripitaka approached the stone and knelt down; he looked at the golden letters and kowtowed several times to the stone. Then, facing the West, he prayed: “Your disciple, Chen Xuanzang, was specifically commanded to seek scriptures from you. If it is so ordained that he should be my disciple, let me lift up those golden letters so that the divine monkey may find release and join me at the Spirit Mountain. If he is not predestined to be my disciple, if he is only a cruel monster trying to deceive me and to bring misfortune to our enterprise, let me not lift up this tape.” He kowtowed again after he had prayed. Going forward, with the greatest of ease he took down the golden letters. A fragrant wind swept by immediately and blew the tag out of his hands into the air as a voice called out, “I am the prison guard of the Great Sage. Today his ordeal is completed, and my colleagues and I are returning this seal to Tathāgata.” Tripitaka, Boqin, and their followers were so terrified that they fell on the ground and bowed toward the sky. They then descended from the tall mountain and came back to the stone box, saying to the monkey, “The tag has been lifted. You may come out.” Delighted, the monkey said, “Master, you had better walk away from here so that I can come out. I don’t want to frighten you.”

When Boqin heard this, he led Tripitaka and the rest of the company to walk back eastward for five or six miles. Again they heard the monkey yelling, “Further still! Further still!” So Tripitaka and the others went still further until they had left the mountain. All at once came a crash so loud that it was as if the mountain was cracking and the earth splitting wide open; everyone was awestruck. The next moment the monkey was already in front of Tripitaka’s horse; completely naked, he knelt down and cried, “Master, I’m out!” He bowed four times toward Tripitaka, and then, jumping up, he said to Boqin respectfully, “I thank Elder Brother for taking the trouble of escorting my master. I’m grateful also for your shaving the grass from my face.” Having thanked him, he went at once to put the luggage in order so that it could be tied onto the horse’s back. When the horse saw him, its torso slackened and its legs stiffened. In fear and trembling, it could hardly stand up. For you see, that monkey had been a BanHorsePlague, who used to look after dragon horses in the celestial stables. His authority was such that horses of this world inevitably would fear him when they saw him.

When Tripitaka saw that the monkey was truly a person of good intentions, someone who truly resembled those who had embraced the Buddhist faith, he called to him, “Disciple, what is your surname?” “My surname is Sun,” said the Monkey King. “Let me give you a religious name,” said Tripitaka, “so that it will be convenient to address you.” “This noble thought of the master is deeply appreciated,” said the Monkey King, “but I already have a religious name. I’m called Sun Wukong.” “It exactly fits the emphasis of our denomination,” said Tripitaka, delighted. “But look at you, you look rather like a little dhūta.5 Let me give you a nickname and call you Pilgrim Sun.6 How’s that?” “Good! Good!” said Wukong. So from then on, he was also called Pilgrim Sun.

When Boqin saw that Pilgrim Sun was definitely preparing to leave, he turned to speak respectfully to Tripitaka, saying, “Elder, you are fortunate to have made an excellent disciple here. Congratulations! This person should be most fit to accompany you. I must take leave of you now.” Bowing to thank him, Tripitaka said, “I cannot thank you enough for all your kindness. Please be certain to thank your dear mother and wife when you return to your house. I have caused you all great inconvenience, and I shall thank you again on my way back.” Boqin returned his salutation, and they parted.

We shall now tell you about Pilgrim Sun, who asked Tripitaka to mount his horse. He himself, stark naked, carried the luggage on his back and led the way. In a little while, as they were passing the Mountain of Two Frontiers, they saw a fierce tiger approaching, growling and waving its tail. Tripitaka, sitting on his horse, became alarmed, but Pilgrim, walking at the side of the road, was delighted. “Don’t be afraid, Master,” he said, “for he’s here to present me with some clothes.” He put down the luggage and took a tiny needle out of his ears. One wave of it facing the wind, and it became an iron rod with the thickness of a rice bowl. He held it in his hands and laughed, saying, “I haven’t used this treasure for over five hundred years! Today I’m taking it out to bag a little garment for myself.” Look at him! He strode right up to the tiger, crying, “Cursed beast! Where do you think you’re going?” Crouching low, the tiger lay prone on the dust and dared not move. Pilgrim Sun aimed the rod at its head, and one stroke caused its brain to burst out like ten thousand red petals of peach blossoms, and the teeth to fly out like so many pieces of white jade. So terrified was our Chen Xuanzang that he fell off his horse. “O God! O God!” he cried, biting his fingers. “When Guardian Liu overcame that striped tiger the other day, he had to do battle with him for almost half a day. But without even fighting today, Sun Wukong reduces the tiger to pulp with one blow of his rod. How true is the saying, ‘For the strong, there’s always someone stronger!’”

“Master,” said Pilgrim as he returned dragging the tiger, “sit down for awhile, and wait till I have stripped him of his clothes. When I put them on, we’ll start off again.” “Where does he have any clothes?” asked Tripitaka. “Don’t mind me, Master,” said Pilgrim, “I have my own plan.” Dear Monkey King! He pulled off one strand of hair and blew a mouthful of magic breath onto it, crying, “Change!” It changed into a sharp, curved knife, with which he ripped open the tiger’s chest. Slitting the skin straight down, he then ripped it off in one piece. He chopped away the paws and the head, cutting the skin into one square piece. He picked it up and tried it for size, and then said, “It’s a bit too large; one piece can be made into two.” He took the knife and cut it again into two pieces; he put one of these away and wrapped the other around his waist. Ripping off a strand of rattan from the side of the road, he firmly tied on this covering for the lower part of his body. “Master,” he said, “let’s go! Let’s go! When we reach someone’s house, we will have sufficient time to borrow some threads and a needle to sew this up.” He gave his iron rod a squeeze and it changed back into a tiny needle, which he stored in his ear. Throwing the luggage on his back, he asked his Master to mount the horse.

As they set off, the monk asked him, “Wukong, how is it that the iron rod you used to slay the tiger has disappeared?” “Master,” said Pilgrim laughing, “you have no idea what that rod of mine really is. It was acquired originally from the Dragon Palace in the Eastern Ocean. It’s called the Precious Divine Iron for Guarding the Heavenly River, and another name of it is the Compliant Golden-Hooped Rod. At the time when I revolted against Heaven, I depended on it a great deal; for it could change into any shape or form, great or small, according to my wish. Just now I had it changed into a tiny embroidery needle, and it’s stored that way in my ear. When I need it, I’ll take it out.” Secretly pleased by what he heard, Tripitaka asked another question: “Why did that tiger become completely motionless when it saw you? How do you explain the fact that it simply let you hit it?” “To tell you the truth,” said Wukong, “even a dragon, let alone this tiger, would behave itself if it had seen me! I, old Monkey, possess the ability to subdue dragons and tame tigers, and the power to overturn rivers and stir up oceans. I can look at a person’s countenance and discern his character; I can listen merely to sounds and discover the truth. If I want to be big, I can fill the universe; if I want to be small, I can be smaller than a piece of hair. In sum, I have boundless ways of transformation and incalculable means of becoming visible or invisible. What’s so strange, then, about my skinning a tiger? Wait till we come to some real difficulties—you’ll see my talents then!” When Tripitaka heard these words, he was more relieved than ever and urged his horse forward. So master and disciple, the two of them, chatted as they journeyed, and soon the sun sank in the west. You see

Soft glow of the fading twilight,

And distant clouds slowly returning.

On every hill swells the chorus of birds,

Flocking to shelter in the woods.

The wild beasts in couples and pairs,

In packs and groups they trek homeward.

The new moon, hooklike, breaks the spreading gloom

With ten thousand stars luminous.7

Pilgrim said, “Master, let’s move along, for it’s getting late. There are dense clumps of trees over there, and I suppose there must be a house or village too. Let’s hurry over there and ask for lodging.” Urging his horse forward, Tripitaka went straight up to a house and dismounted. Pilgrim threw down the bag and went to the door, crying, “Open up! Open up!” An old man came to the door, leaning on a cane. When he pulled open the creaking door, he was panic-stricken by the hideous appearance of Pilgrim, who had the tiger skin around his waist and looked like a thunder god. He began to shout, “A ghost! A ghost!” and other such foolish words. Tripitaka drew near and took hold of him, saying, “Old Patron, don’t be afraid. He is my disciple, not a ghost.” Only when he looked up and saw the handsome features of Tripitaka did the old man stand still. “Which temple are you from,” he asked, “and why are you bringing such a nasty character to my door?”

“I am a poor monk from the Tang court,” said Tripitaka, “on my way to seek scriptures from Buddha in the Western Heaven. We were passing through here and it was getting late; that is why we made so bold as to approach your great mansion and beg you for a night’s lodging. We plan to leave tomorrow before it’s light, and we beseech you not to deny our request.”

“Though you may be a Tang man,” the old man said, “that nasty character is certainly no Tang man!” “Old fellow!” cried Wukong in a loud voice, “you really can’t see, can you? The Tang man is my master, and I am his disciple. Of course, I’m no sugar man8 or honey man! I am the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven! The members of your family should recognize me. Moreover, I have seen you before.”

“Where have you seen me before?” “When you were young,” said Wukong, “didn’t you gather firewood before my eyes? Didn’t you haul vegetables before my face?” The old man said, “That’s nonsense! Where did you live? And where was I, that I should have gathered firewood and hauled vegetables before your eyes?” “Only my son would talk nonsense!” said Wukong. “You really don’t recognize me! Take a closer look! I am the Great Sage in the stone box of this Mountain of Two Frontiers.” “You do look somewhat like him,” said the old man, half recognizing the figure before him, “but how did you get out?” Wukong thereupon gave a thorough account of how the Bodhisattva had converted him and how she had asked him to wait for the Tang Monk to lift the tag for his deliverance.

After that, the old man bowed deeply and invited Tripitaka in, calling for his aged wife and his children to come out and meet the guests. When he told them what had happened, everyone was delighted. Tea was then served, after which the old man asked Wukong, “How old are you, Great Sage?” “And how old are you?” asked Wukong. “I have lived foolishly for one hundred and thirty years!” said the old man. “You are still my great-great-great-great-grandson!” said Pilgrim. “I can’t remember when I was born, but I have spent over five hundred years underneath this mountain.” “Yes, yes,” said the old man. “I remember my great-grandfather saying that when this mountain dropped from the sky, it had a divine ape clamped underneath it. To think that you should have waited until now for your freedom! When I saw you in my childhood, you had grass on your head and mud on your face, but I wasn’t afraid of you then. Now without mud on your face and grass on your head, you seem a bit thinner. And with that huge piece of tiger skin draped around your waist, what great difference is there between you and a demon?”

When the members of his family heard this remark, they all roared with laughter. Being a rather decent fellow, that old man at once ordered a vegetarian meal to be prepared. Afterwards Wukong said, “What is your family name?” “Our humble family,” said the old man, “goes by the name of Chen.” When Tripitaka heard this, he left his seat to salute him, saying, “Old Patron, you and I share the same illustrious clan.”9 “Master,” said Pilgrim, “your surname is Tang. How can it be that you and he share the same illustrious ancestors?” Tripitaka said, “The surname of my secular family is also Chen, and I come from the Juxian Village, in the Hongnong District of Haizhou in the Tang domain. My religious name is Chen Xuanzang. Because our Great Tang Emperor Taizong made me his brother by decree, I took the name Tripitaka and used Tang as my surname. Hence I’m called the Tang Monk.” The old man was very pleased to hear that they had the same surname.

“Old Chen,” said Pilgrim, “I must trouble your family some more, for I haven’t taken a bath for five hundred years! Please go and boil some water so that my master and I, his disciple, can wash ourselves. We shall thank you all the more when we leave.” The old man at once gave the order for water to be boiled and basins to be brought in with several lamps. As master and disciple sat before the lamps after their baths, Pilgrim said, “Old Chen, I still have one more favor to ask of you. Can you lend me a needle and some thread?” “Of course, of course,” replied the old man. One of the amahs was told to fetch the needle and thread, which were then handed over to Pilgrim. Pilgrim, you see, had the keenest sight; he noticed that Tripitaka had taken off a shirt made of white cloth and had not put it on again after his bath. Pilgrim grabbed it and put it on himself. Taking off his tiger skin, he sewed the hems together using a “horse-face fold”10 and fastened it round his waist again with the strand of rattan. He paraded in front of his master saying, “How does old Monkey look today compared with the way he looked yesterday?” “Very good,” said Tripitaka, “very good! Now you do look like a pilgrim! If you don’t think that the shirt is too worn or old, you may keep it.” “Thanks for the gift!” said Wukong respectfully. He then went out to find some hay to feed the horse, after which master and disciple both retired with the old man and his household.

The next morning Wukong arose and woke up his master to get ready for the journey. Tripitaka dressed himself while Wukong put their luggage in order. They were about to leave when the old man brought in washing water and some vegetarian food, and so they did not set out until after the meal. Tripitaka rode his horse with Pilgrim leading the way; they journeyed by day and rested by night, taking food and drink according to their needs. Soon it was early winter. You see

Frost-blighted maples and the wizened trees;

Few verdant pine and cypress still on the ridge.

Budding plum blossoms spread their gentle scent.

The brief, warm day—

A Little Spring gift!11

But dying lilies yield to the lush wild tea.

A cold bridge struggles against an old tree’s bough,

And gurgling water flows in the winding brook.

Gray clouds, snow-laden, float throughout the sky.

The strong, cold wind

Tears at the sleeve!

How does one bear this chilly might of night?12

Master and disciple had traveled for some time when suddenly six men jumped out from the side of the road with much clamor, all holding long spears and short swords, sharp blades and strong bows. “Stop, monk!” they cried. “Leave your horse and drop your bag at once, and we’ll let you pass on alive!” Tripitaka was so terrified that his soul left him and his spirit fled; he fell from his horse, unable to utter a word. But Pilgrim lifted him up, saying, “Don’t be alarmed, Master. It’s nothing really, just some people coming to give us clothes and a travel allowance!” “Wukong,” said Tripitaka, “you must be a little hard of hearing! They told us to leave our bag and our horse, and you want to ask them for clothes and a travel allowance?” “You just stay here and watch our belongings,” said Pilgrim, “and let old Monkey confront them. We’ll see what happens.” Tripitaka said, “Even a good punch is no match for a pair of fists, and two fists can’t cope with four hands! There are six big fellows over there, and you are such a tiny person. How can you have the nerve to confront them?”

As he always had been audacious, Pilgrim did not wait for further discussion. He walked forward with arms folded and saluted the six men, saying, “Sirs, for what reason are you blocking the path of this poor monk?” “We are kings of the highway,” said the men, “philanthropic mountain lords. Our fame has long been known, though you seem to be ignorant of it. Leave your belongings at once, and you will be allowed to pass. If you but utter half a no, you’ll be chopped to pieces!” “I have been also a great hereditary king and a mountain lord for centuries,” said Pilgrim, “but I have yet to learn of your illustrious names.”

“So you really don’t know!” one of them said. “Let’s tell you then: one of us is named Eye That Sees and Delights; another, Ear That Hears and Rages; another Nose That Smells and Loves; another, Tongue That Tastes and Desires; another, Mind That Perceives and Covets; and another, Body That Bears and Suffers.” “You are nothing but six hairy brigands,” said Wukong laughing, “who have failed to recognize in me a person who has left the family, your proper master. How dare you bar my way? Bring out the treasures you have stolen so that you and I can divide them into seven portions. I’ll spare you then!” Hearing this, the robbers all reacted with rage and amusement, covetousness and fear, desire and anxiety. They rushed forward crying, “You reckless monk! You haven’t a thing to offer us, and yet you want us to share our loot with you!” Wielding spears and swords, they surrounded Pilgrim and hacked away at his head seventy or eighty times. Pilgrim stood in their midst and behaved as if nothing were happening.

“What a monk!” said one of the robbers. “He really does have a hard head!” “Passably so!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “But your hands must be getting tired from all that exercise; it’s about time for old Monkey to take out his needle for a little entertainment.” “This monk must be an acupuncture man in disguise,” said the robber. “We’re not sick! What’s all this about using a needle?” Pilgrim reached into his ear and took out a tiny embroidery needle; one wave of it in the wind and it became an iron rod with the thickness of a rice bowl. He held it in his hands, saying, “Don’t run! Let old Monkey try his hand on you with this rod!” The six robbers fled in all directions, but with great strides he caught up with them and rounded all of them up. He beat every one of them to death, stripped them of their clothes, and seized their valuables. Then Pilgrim came back smiling broadly and said, “You may proceed now, Master. Those robbers have been exterminated by old Monkey.”

“That’s a terrible thing you have done!” said Tripitaka. “They may have been strong men on the highway, but they would not have been sentenced to death even if they had been caught and tried. If you have such abilities, you should have chased them away. Why did you slay them all? How can you be a monk when you take life without cause? We who have left the family should

Keep ants out of harm’s way when we sweep the floor,

And put shades on lamps for the love of moths.

How can you kill them just like that, without regard for black or white? You showed no mercy at all! It’s a good thing that we are here in the mountains, where any further investigation will be unlikely. But suppose someone offends you when we reach a city and you perpetrate violence again, hitting people indiscriminately with that rod of yours—would I be able to remain innocent and get away scot-free?”

“Master,” said Wukong, “if I hadn’t killed them, they would have killed you!” Tripitaka said, “As a priest, I would rather die than practice violence. If I were killed, there would be only one of me, but you slaughtered six persons. How can you justify that? If this matter were brought before a judge, and even if your old man were the judge, you certainly would not be able to justify your action.” “To tell you the truth, Master,” said Pilgrim, “when I, old Monkey, was king on the Flower-Fruit Mountain five hundred years ago, I killed I don’t know how many people. I would not have been a Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, if I had lived by what you are saying.” “It’s precisely because you had neither scruples nor self-control,” said Tripitaka, “unleashing your waywardness on Earth and spreading outrage in Heaven, that you had to undergo this ordeal of five hundred years. Now that you have entered the fold of Buddhism, if you still insist on practicing violence and indulge in the taking of life as before, you are not worthy to be a monk, nor can you go to the Western Heaven. You’re wicked! You’re just too wicked!”

Now this monkey had never in all his life been able to tolerate scolding. When he heard Tripitaka’s persistent reprimand, he could not suppress the flames leaping up in his heart. “If that’s what you think,” he said. “If you think I’m not worthy to be a monk, nor can I go to the Western Heaven, you needn’t bother me further with your nagging! I’ll leave and go back!” Before Tripitaka had time to reply, Pilgrim was already so enraged that he leaped into the air, crying only, “Old Monkey’s off!” Tripitaka quickly raised his head to look, but the monkey had already disappeared, trailed only by a swishing sound fading fast toward the East. Left by himself, the priest could only shake his head and sigh, “That fellow! He’s so unwilling to be taught! I only said a few words to him. How could he vanish without a trace and go back just like that? Well, well, well! It must be also that I am destined not to have a disciple or any other companion, for now I couldn’t even call him or locate him if I wanted to. I might as well go on by myself!” So, he was prepared to

Lay down his life and go toward the West,

To be his own master and on none rely.

The elder had little alternative but to pack up his bag and put it on the horse, which he did not even bother to mount. Holding his staff in one hand and the reins in the other, he set off sadly toward the West. He had not traveled far when he saw an old woman before him on the mountain road, holding a silk garment and a cap with a floral design. When Tripitaka saw her approach, he hastened to pull his horse aside for her to pass. “Elder, where do you come from,” asked the old woman, “and why are you walking here all by yourself?” Tripitaka replied, “Your child was sent by the Great King of the Land of the East to seek true scriptures from the living Buddha in the Western Heaven.” “The Buddha of the West,” said the old woman, “lives in the Great Temple of Thunderclap in the territory of India, and the journey there is one hundred and eight thousand miles long. You are all by yourself, with neither a companion nor a disciple. How can you possibly think of going there?” “A few days ago,” said Tripitaka, “I did pick up a disciple, a rather unruly and headstrong character. I scolded him a little, but he refused to be taught, and disappeared.” The old woman said, “I have here a silk shirt and a flower cap inlaid with gold, which used to belong to my son. He had been a monk for only three days when unfortunately he died. I have just finished mourning him at the temple, where I was given these things by his master to be kept in his memory. Father, since you have a disciple, I’ll give the shirt and the cap to you.” “I’m most grateful for your lavish gifts,” said Tripitaka, “but my disciple has left. I dare not take them.” “Where did he go?” asked the old woman. Tripitaka replied, “I heard a swishing sound heading toward the east.” “My home is not too far away in the east,” said the old woman, “and he may be going there. I have a spell which is called the True Words for Controlling the Mind, or the Tight-Fillet Spell. You must memorize it secretly; commit it firmly to your memory, and don’t let anyone learn of it. I’ll try to catch up with him and persuade him to come back and follow you. When he returns, give him the shirt and the cap to wear; and if he again refuses to obey you, recite the spell silently. He will not dare do violence or leave you again.”

On hearing these words, Tripitaka bowed his head to thank her. The old woman changed herself into a shaft of golden light and vanished toward the east. Then Tripitaka realized that it was the Bodhisattva Guanyin who had taught him the True Words; he hurriedly picked up a few pinches of earth with his fingers and scattered them like incense, bowing reverently toward the East. He then took the shirt and the cap and hid them in his bag. Sitting beside the road, he began to recite the True Words for Controlling the Mind. After a few times, he knew it thoroughly by heart, but we shall speak no more of him for the time being.

We now tell you about Wukong, who, having left his master, headed straight toward the Eastern Ocean with a single cloud somersault. He stopped his cloud, opened up a path in the water, and went directly to the Water Crystal Palace. Learning of his arrival, the Dragon King came out to welcome him. After they had exchanged greetings and sat down, the Dragon King said, “I heard recently that the ordeal of the Great Sage had been completed, and I apologize for not having congratulated you yet. I suppose you have again taken occupancy in your immortal mountain and returned to the ancient cave.” “I was so inclined,” said Wukong, “but I became a monk instead.” “What sort of a monk?” asked the Dragon King. “I was indebted to the Bodhisattva of South Sea,” said Pilgrim, “who persuaded me to do good and seek the truth. I was to follow the Tang Monk from the Land of the East to go worship Buddha in the West. Since entering the fold of Buddhism, I was given also the name ‘Pilgrim.’” “That is indeed praiseworthy!” said the Dragon King. “You have, as we say, left the wrong and followed the right; you have been created anew by setting your mind on goodness. But if that’s the case, why are you not going toward the West, but are returning eastward instead?”

Pilgrim laughed and said, “That Tang Monk knows nothing of human nature! There were a few ruffians who wanted to rob us, and I slew them all. But that Tang Monk couldn’t stop nagging me, telling me over and over how wrong I was. Can you imagine old Monkey putting up with that sort of tedium? I just left him! I was on my way back to my mountain when I decided to come visit you and ask for a cup of tea.” “Thanks for coming! Thanks for coming!” exclaimed the Dragon King. At that moment, the Dragon sons and grandsons presented them with aromatic tea. When they finished the tea, Pilgrim happened to turn around and saw hanging behind him on the wall a painting on the “Presentation of Shoes at Yi Bridge.” “What’s this all about?” asked Pilgrim. The Dragon King replied, “The incident depicted in the painting took place some time after you were born, and you may not recognize what it was—the threefold presentation of shoes at Yi Bridge.” “What do you mean by the threefold presentation of shoes?” asked Pilgrim.

“The immortal in the painting,” said the Dragon King, “was named Huang Shigong,13 and the young man kneeling in front of him was called Zhang Liang.14 Shigong was sitting on the Yi Bridge when suddenly one of his shoes fell off and dropped under the bridge. He asked Zhang Liang to fetch it, and the young man quickly did so, putting it back on for him as he knelt there. This happened three times. Since Zhang Liang did not display the slightest sign of pride or impatience, he won the affection of Shigong, who imparted to him that night a celestial manual and told him to support the house of Han. Afterwards, Zhang Liang ‘made his plans sitting in a military tent to achieve victories a thousand miles away.’15 When the Han dynasty was established, he left his post and went into the mountains, where he followed the Daoist, Master Red Pine,16 and became enlightened in the way of immortality. Great Sage, if you do not accompany the Tang Monk, if you are unwilling to exercise diligence or to accept instruction, you will remain a bogus immortal after all. Don’t think that you’ll ever acquire the Fruits of Truth.”

Wukong listened to these words and fell silent for some time. The Dragon King said, “Great Sage, you must make the decision yourself. It’s unwise to allow momentary comfort to jeopardize your future.” “Not another word!” said Wukong. “Old Monkey will go back to accompany him, that’s all!” Delighted, the Dragon King said, “If that’s your wish, I dare not detain you. Instead, I ask the Great Sage to show his mercy at once and not permit his master to wait any longer.” When Pilgrim heard this exhortation to leave, he bounded right out of the oceanic region; mounting the clouds, he left the Dragon King.

On his way he ran right into the Bodhisattva of South Sea. “Sun Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “why did you not listen to me and accompany the Tang Monk? What are you doing here?” Pilgrim was so taken aback that he saluted her on top of the clouds. “I’m most grateful for the kind words of the Bodhisattva,” he said. “A monk from the Tang court did appear, lifted the seal, and saved my life. I became his disciple, but he blamed me for being too violent. I walked out on him for a little while, but I’m going back right now to accompany him.” “Go quickly then,” said the Bodhisattva, “before you change your mind again.” They finished speaking and each went on his way. In a moment, our Pilgrim saw the Tang Monk sitting dejectedly at the side of the road. He approached him and said, “Master, why are you not on the road? What are you doing here?” “Where have you been?” asked Tripitaka, looking up. “Your absence has forced me to sit here and wait for you, not daring to walk or move.” Pilgrim replied, “I just went to the home of the old Dragon King at the Eastern Ocean to ask for some tea.”

“Disciple,” said Tripitaka, “those who have left the family should not lie. It was less than an hour since you left me, and you claim to have had tea at the home of the Dragon King?” “To tell you the truth,” said Pilgrim, laughing, “I know how to cloud somersault, and a single somersault will carry me one hundred and eight thousand miles. That’s why I can go and return in no time at all.” Tripitaka said, “Because I spoke to you a little sharply, you were offended and left me in a rage. With your ability, you could go and ask for some tea, but a person like me has no other prospect but to sit here and endure hunger. Do you feel comfortable about that?” “Master,” said Pilgrim, “if you’re hungry, I’ll go beg some food for you.” “There’s no need to beg,” said Tripitaka, “for I still have in my bag some dried goods given to me by the mother of Guardian Liu. Fetch me some water in that bowl. I’ll eat some food and we can start out again.”

Pilgrim went to untie the bag and found some biscuits made of unrefined flour, which he took out and handed over to the master. He then saw light glowing from a silk shirt and a flower cap inlaid with gold. “Did you bring this garment and cap from the Land of the East?” he asked. “I wore these in my childhood,” said Tripitaka nonchalantly. “If you wear the hat, you’ll know how to recite scriptures without having to learn them; if you put on the garment, you’ll know how to perform rituals without having to practice them.” “Dear Master,” said Pilgrim, “let me put them on.” “They may not fit you,” said Tripitaka, “but if they do, you may wear them.” Pilgrim thereupon took off his old shirt made of white cloth and put on the silk shirt, which seemed to have been made especially for him. Then he put on the cap as well. When Tripitaka saw that he had put on the cap, he stopped eating the dried goods and began to recite the Tight-Fillet Spell silently.

“Oh, my head!” cried Pilgrim. “It hurts! It hurts!” The master went through the recitation several times without ceasing, and the pain was so intense that Pilgrim was rolling on the ground, his hands gripping the flower cap inlaid with gold. Fearing that he might break the gold fillet, Tripitaka stopped reciting and the pain ceased. Pilgrim touched his head with his hand and felt that it was tightly bound by a thin metal band; it could be neither pulled off nor ripped apart, for it had, as it were, taken root on his head. Taking the needle out of his ear, he rammed it inside the fillet and started prying madly. Afraid that he might break the fillet with his prying, Tripitaka started his recitation again, and Pilgrim’s head began to hurt once more. It was so painful that he did cartwheels and somersaults. His face and even his ears turned red, his eyes bulged, and his body grew weak. When the master saw his appearance, he was moved to break off his recitation, and the pain stopped as before. “My head,” said Pilgrim, “the master has put a spell on it.” “I was just saying the Tight-Fillet Sūtra,” said Tripitaka. “Since when did I put a spell on you?” “Recite it some more and see what happens,” said Pilgrim. Tripitaka accordingly began to recite, and the Pilgrim immediately started to hurt. “Stop! Stop!” he cried. “I hurt the moment you begin to recite. How do you explain that?” “Will you listen now to my instructions?” asked Tripitaka. “Yes, I will,” replied Pilgrim. “And never be unruly again?” “I dare not,” said Pilgrim.

Although he said that with his mouth, Pilgrim’s mind was still devising evil. One wave of the needle and it had the thickness of a rice bowl; he aimed it at the Tang Monk and was about to slam it down on him. The priest was so startled that he went through the recitation two or three more times. Falling to the ground, the monkey threw away the iron rod and could not even raise his hands. “Master,” he said, “I’ve learned my lesson! Stop! Please stop!” “How dare you be so reckless,” said Tripitaka, “that you should want to strike me?” “I wouldn’t dare strike you,” said Pilgrim, “but let me ask you something. Who taught you this magic?” “It was an old woman,” said Tripitaka, “who imparted it to me a few moments ago.” Growing very angry, Pilgrim said, “You needn’t say anything more! The old woman had to be that Guanshiyin! Why did she want me to suffer like this? I’m going to South Sea to beat her up!”

“If she had taught me this magic,” said Tripitaka, “she had to know it even before I did. If you go looking for her, and she starts her recitation, won’t you be dead?” Pilgrim saw the logic of this and dared not remove himself. Indeed, he had no alternative but to kneel in contrition and plead with Tripitaka, saying, “Master, this is her method of controlling me, allowing me no alternative but to follow you to the West. I’ll not go to bother her, but you must not regard this spell as a plaything for frequent recitation either! I’m willing to accompany you without ever entertaining the thought of leaving again.” “If that’s so,” said Tripitaka, “help me onto the horse and let’s get going.” At that point, Pilgrim gave up all thoughts of disobedience or rebellion. Eagerly he tugged at his silk shirt and went to gather the luggage together, and they headed again toward the West. We do not know what is to be told after their departure; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.