第三十六回

第三十六回 心猿正处诸缘伏 劈破傍门见月明

却说孙行者按落云头，对师父备言菩萨借童子，老君收去宝贝之事。三藏称谢不已，死心塌地，办虔诚，舍命投西，攀鞍上马，猪八戒挑着行李，沙和尚拢着马头，孙行者执了铁棒，剖开路，径下高山前进。说不尽那水宿风餐，披霜冒露。师徒们行罢多时，前又一山阻路。三藏在那马上高叫：“徒弟啊，你看那里山势崔巍，须是要仔细提防，恐又有魔障侵身也。”行者道：“师父休得胡思乱想，只要定性存神，自然无事。”三藏道：“徒弟呀，西天怎么这等难行？我记得离了长安城，在路上春尽夏来，秋残冬至，有四五个年头，怎么还不能得到？”行者闻言，呵呵笑道：“早哩！早哩！还不曾出大门哩！”八戒道：“哥哥不要扯谎。人间就有这般大门？”行者道：“兄弟，我们还在堂屋里转哩！”沙僧笑道：“师兄，少说大话吓我。那里就有这般大堂屋，却也没处买这般大过梁啊。”行者道：“兄弟，若依老孙看时，把这青天为屋瓦，日月作窗棂，四山五岳为梁柱，大地犹如一敞厅！”八戒听说道：“罢了！罢了！我们只当转些时回去罢。”行者道：“不必乱谈，只管跟着老孙走路。”

好大圣，横担了铁棒，领定了唐僧，剖开山路，一直前进。那师父在马上遥观，好一座山景。真个是：

山顶嵯峨摩斗柄，树梢仿佛接云霄。青烟堆里，时闻得谷口猿啼；乱翠阴中，每听得松间鹤唳。啸风山魅立溪间，戏弄樵夫；成器狐狸坐崖畔，惊张猎户。好山！看那八面崔巍，四围险峻。古怪乔松盘翠盖，枯摧老树挂藤萝。泉水飞流，寒气透人毛发冷；巅峰屹[1]，清风射眼梦魂惊。时听大虫哮吼，每闻山鸟时鸣。麂鹿成群穿荆棘，往来跳跃；獐结党寻野食，前后奔跑。伫立草坡，一望并无客旅；行来深凹，四边俱有豺狼。应非佛祖修行处，尽是飞禽走兽场。

那师父战战兢兢，进此深山，心中凄惨，兜住马，叫声：“悟空呵！我

自从益智登山盟，王不留行送出城。

路上相逢三棱子，途中催趱马兜铃。

寻坡转涧求荆芥，迈岭登山拜茯苓。

防己一身如竹沥，茴香何日拜朝廷[2]？”

孙大圣闻言，呵呵冷笑道：“师父不必挂念，少要心焦。且自放心前进，还你个‘功到自然成’也。”师徒们玩着山景，信步行时，早不觉红轮西坠。正是：

十里长亭无客走，九重天上现星辰。

八河船只皆收港，七千州县尽关门。

六宫五府回官宰，四海三江罢钓纶。

两座楼头钟鼓响，一轮明月满乾坤。

那长老在马上遥观，只见那山凹里有楼台叠叠，殿阁重重。三藏道：“徒弟，此时天色已晚，幸得那壁厢有楼阁不远，想必是庵观寺院。我们都到那里借宿一宵，明日再行罢。”行者道：“师父说得是。不要忙，等我且看好歹如何。”那大圣跳在空中，仔细观看，果然是座山门。但见：

八字砖墙泥红粉，两边门上钉金钉。

叠叠楼台藏岭畔，层层宫阙隐山中。

万佛阁对如来殿，朝阳楼应大雄门。

七层塔屯云宿雾，三尊佛神现光荣。

文殊台对伽蓝舍，弥勒殿靠大慈厅。

看山楼外青光舞，步虚阁上紫云生。

松关[3]竹院依依绿，方丈禅堂处处清。

雅雅幽幽供乐事，川川道道喜回迎。

参禅处有禅僧讲，演乐房多乐器鸣。

妙高台上昙花坠，说法坛前贝叶生。

正是那林遮三宝地，山拥梵王宫[4]。

半壁灯烟光闪灼，一行香霭雾朦胧。

孙大圣按下云头，报与三藏道：“师父，果然是一座寺院，却好借宿。我们去来。”

这长老放开马，一直前来，径到了山门之外。行者道：“师父，这一座是甚么寺？”三藏道：“我的马蹄才然停住，脚尖还未出镫，就问我是甚么寺，好没分晓！”行者道：“你老人家自幼为僧，须曾讲过儒书，方才去演经法，文理皆通，然后受唐王的恩宥[5]。门上有那般大字，如何不认得？”长老骂道：“泼猢狲！说话无知！我才面西催马，被那太阳影射，奈何门虽有字，又被尘垢朦胧，所以未曾看见。”行者闻言，把腰儿躬一躬，长了二丈馀高，用手展去灰尘道：“师父，请看。”上有五个大字，乃是“敕建宝林寺”。行者收了法身，道：“师父，这寺里谁进去借宿？”三藏道：“我进去。你们的嘴脸丑陋，言语粗疏，性刚气傲，倘或冲撞了本处僧人，不容借宿，反为不美。”行者道：“既如此，请师父进去，不必多言。”

那长老却丢了锡杖，解下斗篷，整衣合掌，径入山门。只见两边红漆栏杆里面，高坐着一对金刚，妆塑的威仪恶丑：

一个铁面钢须似活容，一个燥眉圜眼若玲珑。左边的拳头骨突如生铁，右边的手掌崚[6]赛赤铜。金甲连环光灿烂，明盔绣带映飘风。西方真个多供佛，石鼎中间香火红。

三藏见了，点头长叹道：“我那东土，若有人也将泥胎塑这等大菩萨，烧香供养呵，我弟子也不往西天去矣。”正叹息处，又到了二层山门之内，见有四大天王之相，乃是持国、多闻、增长、广目，按东北西南、风调雨顺之意。进了二层门里，又见有乔松四树，一树树翠盖蓬蓬，却如伞状。忽抬头，乃是大雄宝殿，那长老合掌皈依，舒身下拜。拜罢起来，转过佛台，到于后门之下，又见有倒座观音[7]普度南海之相。那壁上都是良工巧匠妆塑的那些鱼、虾、蟹、鳖，出头露尾，跳海水波潮耍子。长老又点头三五度，感叹万千声道：“可怜呵！鳞甲众生都拜佛，为人何不肯修行！”

正赞叹间，又见三门里走出一个道人。那道人忽见三藏相貌稀奇，丰姿非俗，急趋步上前施礼道：“师父那里来的？”三藏道：“弟子是东土大唐驾下差来，上西天拜佛求经的。今到宝方，天色将晚，告借一宿。”那道人道：“师父莫怪，我做不得主。我是这里扫地撞钟打勤劳的道人，里面还有个管家的老师父哩。待我进去禀他一声，他若留你，我就出来奉请，若不留你，我却不敢羁迟[8]。”三藏道：“累及你了。”

那道人急到方丈报道：“老爷，外面有个人来了。”那僧官即起身，换了衣服，按一按毗卢帽，披上袈裟，急开门迎接，问道人：“那里人来？”道人用手指定道：“那正殿后边不是一个人？”那三藏光着一个头，穿一领二十五条达摩[9]衣，足下蹬一双拖泥带水的达公鞋，斜倚在那后门首。僧官见了，大怒道：“道人少打！你岂不知我是僧官，但只有城上来的士夫降香，我方出来迎接。这等个和尚，你怎么多虚少实，报我接他！看他那嘴脸，不是个诚实的，多是云游方上僧，今日天晚，想是要来借宿。我们方丈中，岂容他打搅！教他往前廊下蹲罢了，报我怎么！”抽身转去。

长老闻言，满眼垂泪道：“可怜！可怜！这才是‘人离乡贱’！我弟子从小儿出家，做了和尚，又不曾拜忏吃荤生歹意，看经怀怒坏禅心；又不曾丢瓦抛砖伤佛殿，阿罗脸上剥真金。噫！可怜啊！不知是那世里触伤天地，教我今生常遇不良人！——和尚，你不留我们宿便罢了，怎么又说这等惫懒话，教我们在前道廊下去‘蹲’？此话不与行者说还好，若说了，那猴子进来，一顿铁棒，把孤拐都打断你的！”长老道：“也罢，也罢。常言道：‘人将礼乐为先。’我且进去问他一声，看意下如何。”

那师父踏脚迹，跟他进方丈门里。只见那僧官脱了衣服，气呼呼的坐在那里，不知是念经，又不知是与人家写法事，见那桌案上有些纸札堆积。唐僧不敢深入，就立于天井里，躬身高叫道：“老院主，弟子问讯了！”那和尚就有些不耐烦他进里边来的意思，半答不答的还了个礼，道：“你是那里来的？”三藏道：“弟子乃东土大唐驾下差来，上西天拜活佛求经的。经过宝方，天晚，求借一宿，明日不犯天光就行了。万望老院主方便方便。”那僧官才欠起身来道：“你是那唐三藏么？”三藏道：“不敢，弟子便是。”僧官道：“你既往西天取经，怎么路也不会走？”三藏道：“弟子更不曾走贵处的路。”他道：“正西去，只有四五里远近，有一座三十里店，店上有卖饭的人家，方便好宿。我这里不便，不好留你们远来的僧。”三藏合掌道：“院主，古人有云：‘庵观寺院，都是我方上人的馆驿，见山门就有三升米分。’你怎么不留我，却是何情？”僧官怒声叫道：“你这游方的和尚，便是有些油嘴油舌的说话！”三藏道：“何为油嘴油舌？”僧官道：“古人云：‘老虎进了城，家家都闭门。虽然不咬人，日前坏了名。’”三藏道：“怎么‘日前坏了名’？”他道：“向年有几众行脚僧，来于山门口坐下。是我见他寒薄，一个个衣破鞋无，光头赤脚。我叹他那般褴褛，即忙请入方丈，延之上坐，款待了斋饭，又将故衣各借一件与他，就留他住了几日。怎知他贪图自在衣食，更不思量起身，就住了七八个年头。住便也罢，又干出许多不公的事来。”三藏道：“有甚么不公的事？”僧官道：“你听我说：

闲时沿墙抛瓦，闷来壁上扳钉。冷天向火折窗棂，夏日拖门拦径。　幡布扯为脚带，牙香偷换蔓菁。常将琉璃把油倾，夺碗夺锅赌胜。”

三藏听言，心中暗道：“可怜呵！我弟子可是那等样没脊骨[10]的和尚？”欲待要哭，又恐那寺里的老和尚笑他，但暗暗扯衣揩泪，忍气吞声，急走出去，见了三个徒弟。那行者见师父面上含怒，向前问：“师父，寺里和尚打你来？”唐僧道：“不曾打。”八戒说：“一定打来。不是，怎么还有些哭包声？”那行者道：“骂你来？”唐僧道：“也不曾骂。”行者道：“既不曾打，又不曾骂，你这般苦恼怎么？好道是思乡哩？”唐僧道：“徒弟，他这里不方便。”行者笑道：“这里想是道士？”唐僧怒道：“观里才有道士，寺里只是和尚！”行者道：“你不济事！但是和尚，即与我们一般。常言道：‘既在佛会下，都是有缘人。’你且坐，等我进去看看。”

好行者，按一按顶上金箍，束一束腰间裙子，执着铁棒，径到大雄宝殿上，指着那三尊佛像道：“你本是泥塑金妆假像，内里岂无感应？我老孙保领大唐圣僧，往西天拜佛求取真经，今晚特来此处投宿，趁早与我报名！假若不留我等，就一顿棍打碎金身，教你还现本相泥土！”

这大圣正在前边发狠，捣叉子[11]乱说，只见一个烧晚香的道人，点了几枝香，来佛前炉里插。被行者咄的一声，唬了一跌；爬起来看见脸，又是一跌；吓得滚滚，跑入方丈里，报道：“老爷！外面有个和尚来了！”那僧官道：“你这伙道人都少打！一行说教他往前廊下去‘蹲’，又报甚么！再说打二十！”道人说：“老爷，这个和尚，比那个和尚不同，生得恶躁，没脊骨。”僧官道：“怎的模样？”道人道：“是个圆眼睛，查耳朵，满面毛，雷公嘴。手执一根棍子，咬牙恨恨的，要寻人打哩。”僧官道：“等我出去看。”

他即开门，只见行者撞进来了，真个生得丑陋：七高八低孤拐脸，两只黄眼睛，一个磕额头，獠牙往外生，就像属螃蟹的，肉在里面，骨在外面。那老和尚慌得把方丈门关了。行者赶上，扑的打破门扇，道：“赶早将干净房子打扫一千间，老孙睡觉！”僧官躲在房里，对道人说：“怪他生得丑么！原来是说大话，折作[12]的这般嘴脸。我这里连方丈、佛殿、钟鼓楼、两廊，共总也不上三百间，他却要一千间睡觉。却打那里来？”道人说：“师父，我也是吓破胆的人了，凭你怎么答应他罢。”那僧官战索索的高叫道：“那借宿的长老，我这小荒山不方便，不敢奉留，往别处去宿罢。”

行者将棍子变得盆来粗细，直壁壁的竖在天井里，道：“和尚，不方便，你就搬出去！”僧官道：“我们从小儿住的寺，师公传与师父，师父传与我辈，我辈要远继儿孙。他不知是那里勾当，冒冒实实的，教我们搬哩。”道人说：“老爷，十分不尴尬，搬出去也罢。——杠子打进门来了。”僧官道：“你莫胡说！我们老少众人四五百名和尚，往那里搬？搬出去，却也没处住。”行者听见道：“和尚，没处搬，便着一个出来打样棍！”老和尚叫：“道人，你出去与我打个样棍来。”那道人慌了道：“爷爷呀！那等个大杠子，教我去打样棍？”老和尚道：“‘养军千日，用军一朝’。你怎么不出去？”道人说：“那杠子莫说打来，若倒下来，压也压个肉泥！”老和尚道：“也莫要说压，只道竖在天井里，夜晚间走路，不记得呵，一头也撞个大窟窿！”道人说：“师父，你晓得这般重，却教我出去打甚么样棍？”他自家里面转闹起来。

行者听见道：“是也禁不得。假若就一棍打杀一个，我师父又怪我行凶了。且等我另寻一个甚么打与你看看。”忽抬头，只见方丈门外有一个石狮子，却就举起棍来，乒乓一下，打得粉乱麻碎。那和尚在窗眼儿里看见，就吓得骨软筋麻，慌忙往床下拱，道人就往锅门里钻，口中不住叫：“爷爷！棍重，棍重！禁不得！方便，方便！”行者道：“和尚，我不打你。我问你：这寺里有多少和尚？”僧官战索索的道：“前后是二百八十五房头，共有五百个有度牒的和尚。”行者道：“你快去把那五百个和尚都点得齐齐整整，穿了长衣服出去，把我那唐朝的师父接进来，就不打你了。”僧官道：“爷爷，若是不打，便抬也抬进来。”行者道：“趁早去！”僧官叫：“道人，你莫说吓破了胆，就是吓破了心，便也去与我叫这些人，来接唐僧老爷爷来。”

那道人没奈何，舍了性命，不敢撞门，从后边狗洞里钻将出去，径到正殿上，东边打鼓，西边撞钟。钟鼓一齐响处，惊动了两廊大小僧众，上殿问道：“这早还不晚哩，撞钟打鼓做甚？”道人说：“快换衣服，随老师父排班，出山门外迎接唐朝来的老爷。”那众和尚，真个齐齐整整，摆班出门迎接。有的披了袈裟，有的着了偏衫，无的穿着个一口钟直裰，十分穷的，没有长衣服，就把腰裙接起两条披在身上。行者看见道：“和尚，你穿的是甚么衣服？”和尚见他恶丑，道：“爷爷，不要打，等我说。——这是我们城中化的布，此间没有裁缝，是自家做的个‘一裹穷’。”

行者闻言暗笑，押着众僧，出山门下跪下。那僧官磕头高叫道：“唐老爷，请方丈里坐。”八戒看见道：“师父老大不济事。你进去时，泪汪汪，嘴上挂得油瓶。师兄怎么就有此獐智，教他们磕头来接？”三藏道：“你这个呆子，好不晓礼！常言道：‘鬼也怕恶人哩。’”唐僧见他们磕头礼拜，甚是不过意，上前叫：“列位请起。”众僧叩头道：“老爷，若和你徒弟说声方便，不动杠子，就跪一个月也罢。”唐僧叫：“悟空，莫要打他。”行者道：“不曾打。若打，这会已打断了根矣。”那些和尚却才起身，牵马的牵马，挑担的挑担，抬着唐僧，驮着八戒，挽着沙僧，一齐都进山门里去；却到后面方丈中，依叙坐下。

众僧却又礼拜，三藏道：“院主请起，再不必行礼，作践贫僧。我和你都是佛门弟子。”僧官道：“老爷是上国钦差，小和尚有失迎接。今到荒山，奈何俗眼不识尊仪，与老爷邂逅相逢。动问老爷：一路上是吃素？是吃荤？我们好去办饭。”三藏道：“吃素。”僧官道：“徒弟，这个爷爷好的吃荤。”行者道：“我们也吃素，都是胎里素。”那和尚道：“爷爷呀，这等凶汉也吃素！”有一个胆量大的和尚，近前又问：“老爷既然吃素，煮多少米的饭方够吃？”八戒道：“小家子和尚！问甚么！一家煮上一石米。”那和尚都慌了，便去刷洗锅灶，各房中安排茶饭，高掌明灯，调开桌椅，管待唐僧。

师徒们都吃罢了晚斋，众僧收拾了家火，三藏称谢道：“老院主，打搅宝山了。”僧官道：“不敢，不敢。怠慢，怠慢。”三藏道：“我师徒却在那里安歇？”僧官道：“老爷不要忙，小和尚自有区处。”叫：“道人，那壁厢有几个人听使令的？”道人说：“师父，有。”僧官分付道：“你们着两个去安排草料，与唐老爷喂马；着几个去前面，把那三间禅堂打扫干净，铺设床帐，快请老爷安歇。”

那些道人听命，各各整顿齐备，却来请唐老爷安寝。他师徒们牵马挑担，出方丈，径至禅堂门首看处，只见那里面灯火光明，两梢间铺着四张藤屉床。行者见了，唤那办草料的道人，将草料抬来，放在禅堂里面，拴下白马，教道人都出去。三藏坐在中间灯下，两班儿立五百个和尚，都伺候着，不敢侧离。三藏欠身道：“列位请回，贫僧好自在安寝也。”众僧决不敢退。僧官上前分付大众：“伏侍老爷安置了再回。”三藏道：“即此就是安置了，都就请回。”众人却才敢散去讫。

唐僧举步出门小解，只见明月当天，叫：“徒弟。”行者、八戒、沙僧都出来侍立。因感这月清光皎洁，玉宇深沉，真是一轮高照，大地分明，对月怀归，口占一首古风长篇。诗云：

“皓魄当空宝镜悬，山河摇影十分全。

琼楼玉宇清光满，冰鉴银盘爽气旋。

万里此时同皎洁，一年今夜最明鲜。

浑如霜饼离沧海，却似冰轮挂碧天。

别馆寒窗孤客闷，山村野店老翁眠。

乍临汉苑惊秋鬓，才到秦楼促晚奁。

庾亮有诗传晋史[13]，袁宏不寐泛江船[14]。

光浮杯面寒无力，清映庭中健有仙。

处处窗轩吟白雪，家家院宇弄冰弦。

今宵静玩来山寺，何日相同返故园？”

行者闻言，近前答曰：“师父呵，你只知月色光华，心怀故里，更不知月中之意，乃先天法象之规绳也。月至三十日，阳魂之金散尽，阴魄之水盈轮，故纯黑而无光，乃曰‘晦’。此时与日相交，在晦朔两日之间，感阳光而有孕。至初三日一阳现，初八日二阳生，魄中魂半，其平如绳，故曰‘上弦’。至今十五日，三阳备足，是以团圆，故曰‘望’。至十六日一阴生，二十二日二阴生，此时魂中魄半，其平如绳，故曰‘下弦’。至三十日三阴备足，亦当晦。此乃先天采炼之意。我等若能温养二八，九九成功，那时节，见佛容易，返故田亦易也。诗曰：

前弦之后后弦前，药味平平气象全。

采得归来炉里炼，志心功果即西天。”

那长老听说，一时解悟，明彻真言，满心欢喜，称谢了悟空。沙僧在旁笑道：“师兄此言虽当，只说的是弦前属阳，弦后属阴，阴中阳半，得水之金，更不道：

水火相搀各有缘，全凭土母配如然。

三家同会无争竞，水在长江月在天。”

那长老闻得，亦开茅塞。正是理明一窍通千窍，说破无生即是仙。八戒上前扯住长老道：“师父，莫听乱讲，误了睡觉。这月呵：

缺之不久又团圆，似我生来不十全。

吃饭嫌我肚子大，拿碗又说有粘涎。

他都伶俐修来福，我自痴愚积下缘。

我说你取经还满三涂业，摆尾摇头直上天！”

三藏道：“也罢，徒弟们走路辛苦，先去睡下。等我把这卷经来念一念。”行者道：“师父差了。你自幼出家做了和尚，小时的经文那本不熟？却又领了唐王旨意，上西天见佛，求取大乘真典。如今功未完成，佛未得见，经未曾取，你念的是那卷经儿？”三藏道：“我自出长安，朝朝跋踄，日日奔波，小时的经文恐怕生了，幸今夜得闲，等我温习温习。”行者道：“既这等说，我们先去睡也。”他三人各往一张藤床上睡下。长老掩上禅堂门，高剔银缸[15]，铺开经本，默默看念。正是那：楼头初鼓人烟静，野浦渔舟火灭时。毕竟不知那长老怎么样离寺，且听下回分解。

[1] 屹（lì）：山峰耸立的样子。

[2] 茴香何日拜朝廷：这是一首用药名集成的诗。益智、王不留行、三棱子、马兜铃、荆芥、茯苓、防己、竹沥、茴香等，都是药名。

[3] 松关：柴门。关，门。

[4] 梵王宫：原为佛教称大梵天王的宫殿，后衍为佛寺的通称。

[5] 恩宥（yòu）：降恩宽待。宥，宽待。

[6] 崚：形容山的高低不平。这里借喻手掌的凹凸像山一样。，不见于字书，应作嶒。后文第五十回“崚嶒怪石列”可证。

[7] 倒座观音：寺院多于大雄宝殿释迦牟尼像后，塑面向北的观音海岛塑像，称倒坐观音。

[8] 羁迟：淹留耽搁。这里是委婉地拒绝留宿。

[9] 达摩：佛教传说，禅宗东土六祖中第一祖，就是菩提达摩。

[10] 没脊骨：形容不正直，不守规矩。

[11] 捣叉子：叉子意同岔子，犹找茬儿。就是寻衅惹事的意思。

[12] 折作：因做恶、不善而受到报应。

[13] 庾亮有诗传晋史：庾亮，字元规。晋成帝时，作过中书令（宰相）。传说他在武昌坐镇时，曾于秋夜和一些人登南楼赏月作诗。此处引用的就是这个故事。

[14] 袁宏不寐泛江船：袁宏，字彦伯。晋代文学家。小时很穷，替人运租米维持生活。一次，谢尚在安徽当涂县牛渚山下采石矶泛舟赏月，听见邻船袁宏正在读他作的《咏史诗》。此处引用的就是这个故事。

[15] 缸：油灯。

CHAPTER 36. When Mind Monkey is rectified, the nidānas cease;1

Smash through the side door2 to view the bright moon.

We were telling you about Pilgrim, who lowered the direction of his cloud and presented to his master a thorough account of how the Bodhisattva requested for the youths and how Laozi took back his treasures. Tripitaka was deeply grateful; he redoubled his efforts and determination to go to the West at all costs. He mounted the horse once more; while Zhu Eight Rules poled the luggage, Sha Monk took hold of the bridle, and Pilgrim Sun took up his iron rod to lead the way down the tall mountain. As they proceeded, we cannot tell you in full how they rested by the waters and dined in the wind, how they were covered with frost and exposed to the dew. Master and disciples journeyed for a long time and again they found a mountain blocking their path.

“Disciples,” said Tripitaka loudly on the horse, “Look how tall and rugged is that mountain. We should be most careful, for I fear that there may be some demonic miasmas coming to attack us.” Pilgrim said, “Stop thinking foolish thoughts, Master. Compose yourself and keep your mind from wandering; nothing will happen to you.”

“O Disciple,” said Tripitaka, “why is it so difficult to reach the Western Heaven? I remember that since leaving the city Chang’an, spring has come and gone on this road several times, autumn has arrived to be followed by winter—at least four or five years must have gone by. Why is it that we still haven’t reached our destination?”

“It’s too early! It’s too early!” said Pilgrim, roaring with laughter. “We haven’t even left the main door yet!” “Stop fibbing, Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules. “There’s no such big mansion in this world.” “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “we are just moving around in one of the halls inside.” Laughing, Sha Monk said, “Elder Brother, stop talking so big to scare us. Where could you find such a huge house? Even if there were, you wouldn’t be able to find cross beams that were long enough.” “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “from the point of view of old Monkey, this blue sky is our roof, the sun and moon are our windows, the five sacred mountains our pillars, and the whole Heaven and Earth is but one large chamber.” When Eight Rules heard this, he sighed, “We’re finished! We’re finished! All right, move around some more and we’ll go back.” “No need for this kind of silly chatter,” said Pilgrim. “Just follow old Monkey and move.”

Dear Great Sage! Placing the iron rod horizontally across his shoulders, he led the Tang Monk firmly up the mountain road and went straight ahead. As the master looked around on the horse, he saw some lovely mountain scenery. Truly

The rugged summits touch the dipper stars,

And treetops seem to join the sky and clouds.

Within piles of blue mist

Ape cries oft arise from the valley;

In the shades of riotous green

You hear cranes calling beneath the pines.

Howling mountain sprites rear up in the streams

To mock the woodsman;

Aged fox spirits sit beside the cliff

To frighten the hunter.

Marvelous mountain!

Look how steep it is on all sides,

How precipitous every where!

Strange knotty pines topped by green canopies;

Dried, aged trees dangling creepers and vines.

The stream surges,

Its piercing cold chills e’en the hairs of man;

The peak shoots up,

Its eye-smarting clear wind makes one skittish.

Frequently you listen to big cats roar;

Now and then you hear mountain birds call.

Flocks of fallow deer cut through the brambles,

Leaping here and there;

Hordes of river deer seeking food of the wilds

Stampede back and forth.

Standing on the meadow,

One can’t see any traveler;

Walk in the canyons

And there are wolves on all sides.

It’s no place for Buddha to meditate,

Wholly the domain of darting birds and beasts.

With fear and trembling, the master entered deep into the mountain. Growing more melancholy, he stopped the horse and said, “O Wukong! Once

I was resolved3 to make that mountain4 trip,

To send me from the city the king did not wait.

I met on the way the three-cornered sedge;

I pushed hard my horse decked with bridle bells.

To find scriptures I searched steep slopes and streams;

To bow to Buddha’s spirit I scaled the peaks.

If myself I guard to complete my tour,

When may I go home to bow to the court?”

When the Great Sage heard these words, he roared with laughter, saying, “Master, don’t be so anxious and impatient. Relax and push forward. In due time, I assure you that ‘success will come naturally when merit’s achieved.’” As master and disciples enjoyed the mountain scenery while they walked along, the red orb soon sank toward the west. Truly

No traveler walked by the ten-mile arbor,

But stars appeared in the ninefold heavens.

Boats of eight rivers returned to their piers;

Seven thousand towns and counties shut their gates.

The lords of six chambers and five bureaus all retired;

From four seas and three rivers fish-lines withdrew.

Gongs and drums sounded on two tall towers;

One orb of bright moon filled the universe.

As he peered into the distance on the back of the horse, the master saw in the fold of the mountain several multistoried buildings. “Disciples,” said Tripitaka, “it’s getting late now and we are fortunate to find some buildings over there. I think it must be either a Daoist abbey or a Buddhist monastery. Let’s go there and ask for lodging for the night, and we can resume our journey in the morning.” Pilgrim said, “Master, you are right. Let’s not hurry, however; let me examine the place first.” Leaping into the air, the Great Sage stared intently and found that it was indeed a Buddhist monastery. He saw

Eight-word brick wall5 painted muddy red;

Doors on two sides studded with nails of gold;

Rows of tiered-terrace sheltered by the peak;

Buildings, multistoried, hidden in the mount.

Buddhas Alcove6 faced the Tathāgata Hall;

The Morning-Sun Tower met the Great Hero7 Gate.

Clouds rested on a seven-tiered pagoda,

And glory shone from three honored Buddhas.8

Mañjuśrī Platform faced the monastic house;

Maitreya Hall joined the Great Mercy Room.

Blue light danced outside the Mount-Viewing Lodge;

Purple clouds bloomed above the Void-Treading Tower.

Pine retreats and bamboo courts—fresh, lovely green.

Abbot rooms and Zen commons—clean every where.

Gracefully, quietly services were held.

Solemn but joyful priests walked the grounds.

Chan monks lectured in the Chan classrooms,

And instruments blared from music halls.

Udumbara petals dropped from the Wondrous-Height Terrace;

Pattra9 leaves grew beneath the Law-Expounding Platform.

So it was that woods sheltered this land of the Three Jewels,

And mountains embraced this home of a Sanskrit Prince.

Half a wall of lamps with flickering lights and smoke;

A row of incense obscured by fragrant fog.

Descending from his cloud, the Great Sage Sun reported to Tripitaka, saying, “Master, it’s indeed a Buddhist monastery. We can go there to ask for lodging.”

The master urged his horse on and went straight up to the main gate. “Master,” said Pilgrim, “what monastery is this?” “The hoofs of my horse have just come to a stop, and the tips of my feet have yet to leave the stirrups,” said Tripitaka, “and you ask me what monastery this is? How thoughtless you are!” Pilgrim said, “You, your venerable self, have been a monk since your youth, and you must have studied the Confucian classics before you proceeded to lecture on the dharma sūtras. You must have mastered both literature and philosophy before you received such royal favors from the Tang Emperor. There are big words on the door of this monastery. Why can’t you recognize them?” “Impudent ape!” snapped the elder. “You mouth such senseless words! I was facing the west as I rode and my eyes were momentarily blinded by the glare of the sun. There might be words on the door, but they are covered by grime and dirt. That’s why I can’t make them out.” When Pilgrim heard these words, he stretched his torso and at once grew to over twenty feet tall. Wiping away the dirt, he said, “Master, please take a look.” There were seven words in large characters: “Precious Grove Monastery Built by Imperial Command.” After Pilgrim changed back into his normal size, he said, “Master, which one of us should go in to ask for lodging?” “I’ll go inside,” said Tripitaka, “for all of you are ugly in your appearance, uncouth in your speech, and arrogant in your manner. If you happen to offend the local monks, they may refuse our request, and that won’t be good.” “In that case,” said Pilgrim, “let Master go in at once. No need for words anymore.”

Abandoning his priestly staff and untying his cloak, the elder straightened out his clothes and walked inside the main gate with folded hands. There he found behind red lacquered railings a pair of Vajra-guardians,10 whose molten images were fearsome indeed:

One has an iron face and steel whiskers as if alive;

One has bushy brows and round eyes that seem real.

On the left, the fist bones like raw iron jut out;

On the right, the palms are cragged like crude bronze.

Golden chain armor of splendid luster;

Bright helmets and wind-blown sashes of silk.

Offerings in the West to Buddha are bounteous:

In stone tripods the incense fires glow red.

When Tripitaka saw this, he nodded and gave a lengthy sigh, saying, “If in our Land of the East there are enough people who would mold such huge bodhisattvas with clay and worship them with fires and incense, this disciple would have no need to go to the Western Heaven.” As he was saying this to himself, he reached the second gate, where he discovered inside the images of the Four Devarājas: Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Vaiśravaṇa, Virūḍhaka, and Virūpākṣa. Each of them, stationed according to his position in the east, north, south, and west, was also symbolic of his powers to make the winds harmonious and the rains seasonal. After he entered the second gate, he saw four tall pines, each of which had a luxuriant top shaped like an umbrella. As he raised his head, he discovered that he had arrived before the Precious Hall of the Great Hero. Folding his hands with complete reverence, the elder prostrated himself and worshipped; afterwards, he arose and went past the Buddha platform to reach the rear gate. There he found the image of the reclining Guanyin, who proffered deliverance to the creatures of South Sea.11 On the walls were carvings—all done by skillful artisans—of shrimps, fishes, crabs, and turtles; sticking out their heads and flapping their tails, they were frolicking in the billows and leaping over the waves. The elder again nodded his head four or five times, sighing loudly, “What a pity! Even scaly creatures would worship Buddha! Why is it that humans are unwilling to practice religion?”

As he was thus speaking to himself, a worker emerged from the third gate. When he saw the uncommon and handsome features of Tripitaka, he hurried forward and bowed, saying, “Where did the master come from?” “This disciple,” said Tripitaka, “was sent by the Throne of the Great Tang in the Land of the East to go to the Western Heaven and seek scriptures from Buddha. It was getting late when we arrived at your honored region, and I came to ask for lodging for one night.” “Please do not be offended, Master,” said the worker, “but I can’t assume responsibility here. I’m just a manual laborer in charge of sweeping the grounds and tolling the bell. There’s an old master inside who is the head of the household. Let me go in and report to him; if he wishes to ask you to stay, I’ll come out to give you the invitation; if not, I dare not detain you.” Tripitaka said, “Sorry for all that inconvenience.”

The worker hurried to the abbot chamber and reported, “Venerable Father, there’s someone outside.” The monk-official arose immediately, changed his clothes, adjusted his Vairocana hat, and put on a cassock before he went to open the door to receive his visitor. “What man has arrived?” he asked the worker, who pointed with his finger and replied, “Isn’t that a man there behind the main hall?” Bald-headed, wearing a Bodhidharma gown that was in shreds and a pair of sandals muddy and wet, Tripitaka was reclining by the door. When the monk-official saw him, he became enraged, saying, “Worker, you deserve to be flogged! Don’t you know that a monk-official like me would come out and receive only the gentlemen from the cities who come here to offer incense? For this sort of a monk, why did you give me a phony report and ask me to receive him? Just look at his face! He can’t be an honest man! He has to be some kind of mendicant who wants to sleep here now that it’s getting late. You think I’m going to permit him to mess up our abbot chamber? Tell him to squat in the corridor. Why bother me?” He turned around and left immediately.

When the elder heard these words, tears filled his eyes and he said, “How pitiful! How pitiful! Truly ‘a man away from home is cheap!’ This disciple left home from his youth to become a monk. I did not

Do penance while eating meat with wicked glee,

Or read scriptures in wrath to soil the mind of Chan.

Nor did I

Cast tiles and stones to damage Buddha’s hall,

Or rip down the gold from an arhat’s face.

Alas, how pitiful! I don’t know which incarnation it was that I had offended Heaven and Earth, so that I have to meet unkind people so frequently in this life. Monk, if you don’t want to give us lodging, that’s all right. But why must you say such nasty things, telling us to go and squat in the corridors? I’d better not repeat these words to Pilgrim, for if I did, that monkey would come in and a few blows of his iron rod would break all your shanks. All right! All right! The proverb says, ‘Man must put propriety and music first.’ Let me go inside and ask him once more and see what he really intends to do with us.”

Following the tracks of the monk-official, the master went up to the door of the abbot chamber, where he found the monk-official who, having taken off his outer garments, was sitting inside, still panting with rage. He was not reciting the sūtras, nor was he drawing up any service for a family; all the Tang Monk could see was a pile of papers on a table beside him. Not daring to walk inside abruptly but standing instead in the courtyard, Tripitaka bowed and cried out, “Old Abbot, this disciple salutes you.” Somewhat annoyed by the fact that Tripitaka followed him inside, the monk only pretended to return the greeting, saying, “Where did you come from?”

“This disciple,” replied Tripitaka, “has been sent by the Throne of the Great Tang in the Land of the East to go to the Western Heaven and seek scriptures from the Living Buddha. I passed through your honored region, it was getting late, and I came to ask for lodging for one night. Tomorrow, I’ll leave before daybreak. I beseech the Old Abbot to grant me this request.” Only then did the monk-official get up from his seat and say, “Are you that Tripitaka Tang?” Tripitaka said, “Yes.” “If you are going to the Western Heaven to acquire scriptures,” said the monk-official, “how is it that you don’t even know your way?” Tripitaka said, “Your disciple has never passed through your honored region and that’s why he doesn’t know the way here.” “Due west of here,” he said, “about four or five miles is a Thirty-Mile Inn, in which there is also someone selling food. It will be convenient for you to stay there, whereas it’s not convenient here for me to entertain a monk like yourself who has come from a great distance.”

“Abbot,” said Tripitaka with hands folded, “the ancients declared that ‘A Daoist abbey or a Buddhist monastery all may be considered a lodge for a priest, who has a claim for three percent of the food the moment he sees the temple gate.’ Why do you refuse me?” “You mendicant monk!” shouted the monk-official angrily. “All you know is how to cajole and wheedle!” Tripitaka said, “What do you mean by cajole and wheedle?” The monk-official said, “Remember what the ancients said?

A tiger comes to town;

Each house will shut the door.

Though no one is bitten,

Its name’s already poor!”

“What do you mean by ‘Its name’s already poor’?” asked Tripitaka.

“A few years ago,” said the monk-official, “there was a group of mendicants who arrived and sat in front of our monastery gate. I took pity on their hardship when I saw how destitute they were, every one of them bald-headed and barefooted, shoeless and in rags. So I invited them into the abbot chamber, gave them honored seats, and fed them a vegetarian meal. Moreover, I even gave each of them an old suit of clothes to wear and asked them to stay for a few days. How would I know that they could become so greedy for easy food and clothing that they would remain for seven or eight years, never giving a thought to leaving again? I didn’t mind even their staying, but they indulged in all sorts of shabby activities.”

“What kind of shabby activities?” asked Tripitaka. The monk-official said, “Just listen to my tale:

Idle, they threw tiles by the pale;

Bored, they pulled nails off the wall.

In winter they fed fires with ripped window panes,

Leaving torn doors, when hot, on the road.

They pulled banners to make leggings;

Gluttonous, they stole our turnips.

From glass vases they often poured our oil,

Gaming by grabbing bowls and dishes!”12

When Tripitaka heard these words, he said to himself, “How pitiful! Is this disciple that kind of spineless monk?” He was about to cry, but he feared also that the old monk in the monastery would laugh at him. Swallowing his pride and his annoyance while wiping away his tears secretly with his robe, he walked out quickly and met his three disciples. When Pilgrim saw how angry his master looked, he went forward to ask, “Master, did the monks in the monastery strike you?” “They didn’t,” said the Tang Monk. “They must have done so,” said Eight Rules, “for if they haven’t, why is your voice cracking?” “Have they scolded you?” asked Pilgrim. The Tang Monk said, “They haven’t either.” “If they haven’t struck you,” said Pilgrim, “or scolded you, why are you upset? You must be getting homesick.” “Disciples,” said the Tang Monk, “they say that it’s not convenient here.” “They must be Daoists here, then?” said Pilgrim, laughing. “Only a Daoist abbey has Daoists,” said the Tang Monk, raging. “There are only monks in a monastery.” Pilgrim said, “You are useless! If there are monks here, they are the same as we. The proverb says,

Gathered in Buddha’s assembly

Are all men of affinity.

You sit here, and let me go inside to look around.”

Dear Pilgrim! Giving the fillet on his head a squeeze and tightening the skirt around his waist, he went straight up to the Precious Hall of the Great Hero, holding his iron rod. There he pointed at the statues of the three Buddhas and said, “You are actually idols molded with clay and adorned with gold. You don’t possess one whit of efficacy inside! Or do you? Old Monkey, who is accompanying the Tang Monk to go to the Western Heaven and seek the true scriptures from Buddha, has come here tonight specially to ask for lodging. You’d better hurry and announce my arrival. If you don’t put us up, my rod will smash the golden bodies and reveal your original forms of mud!”

As the Great Sage was making his threats and intimidations, a worker in charge of vespers arrived with several sticks of lighted incense to be placed in the urn before the images of Buddha. One snarl of Pilgrim sent him tumbling; when he scrambled up and saw the face, he fell down again. Stumbling all over, he fled into the abbot chamber and made the report, saying, “Holy Father, there’s a monk outside.”

“All of you workers deserve to be flogged!” said the monk-official. “I told you people before that they should be sent to squat in the corridors up front. Why make another announcement? One more word and I’ll give you twenty lashes!” “Holy Father,” said the worker, “this monk is not the same as the other one; he’s mean and fierce looking.” “How does he look?” asked the monk-official. The worker replied, “He’s someone with round eyes, forked ears, a face full of hairs, and a beak like the thunder god’s. He has a rod in his hands, furiously grinding his teeth to find someone to beat.” “Let me go out and have a look,” said the monk-official.

The moment he opened the door, he saw Pilgrim barging in. It was a hideous sight indeed! A bumpy, scabrous face, a pair of yellow eyeballs, a sunken forehead, and long, protruding fangs—he seemed virtually an overcooked crab with meat inside and cartilage outside! So panic-stricken was the old monk that he slammed shut the door of the abbot chamber at once. Pilgrim, however, rushed up to it and smashed it to pieces, crying, “Hurry up and clean out one thousand rooms! Old Monkey wants to take a nap!”

As he attempted to hide in the room, the monk-official said to the worker, “No wonder he’s so ugly! Talking big has caused him to end up with a face like that! Our place here, including abbot chambers, Buddha halls, bell-and-drum towers, and the two corridors, has barely three hundred rooms. He wants a thousand for him to take a nap. Where are we going to get these rooms?” “Master,” said the worker, “I’m a man whose gall has been busted by fear. I’ll let you answer him any way you please.” Trembling all over, the monk-official said in a loud voice, “The elder who wants lodging, please hear me. It’s truly inconvenient for this small, humble monastery of ours to entertain you. Please go somewhere to stay.”

Pilgrim transformed his rod until it had the circumference of a basin’s; then he stuck it straight up in the courtyard. “Monk,” he said, “if it’s inconvenient, you move out.” The monk-official said, “We have lived here since our youth; our grand-masters passed the place on to our masters, and they in turn to us. We want to give it to our heirs. What sort of a person is he that he would so rashly ask us to move?” “Venerable Father,” said the worker, “we can’t muddle through like this. Why not move out? That pole of his is going to come smashing in!” “Stop babbling!” said the monk-official. “We have altogether five hundred monks here, old and young. Where are we going to move to? Even if we do move out, we have no other place to stay.” Hearing this, Pilgrim said, “Monk, if you have no place to move, one of you must come out and be caned.”

The old monk said to the worker, “You go out and take the caning for me.” Horrified, the worker said, “O Father! With that huge pole, and you ask me to take the caning!” The old monk said, “As the proverb says, ‘It may take a thousand days to feed an army, but only one day to use it.’ Why don’t you go out?” “Don’t speak of being caned by that huge pole,” said the worker. “Even if it just falls on you, you’ll be reduced to a meat patty.” “Yes,” said the old monk, “let’s not speak of falling on someone. If it remains standing in the courtyard, one can crack his head bumping into it at night if one forgets it’s there.” “Master,” said the worker, “if you know that’s how heavy it is, why do you ask me to go out and take the caning for you?” After he asked this question, the two of them began to quarrel between themselves.

Hearing all that noise, Pilgrim said to himself, “They really can’t take it. If I kill each of them with one blow of my rod, Master will accuse me again of working violence. Let me find something to strike at and show them what I can do.” He lifted his head and discovered a stone lion outside the door of the abbot chamber. Raising up the rod, he slammed it on the lion and reduced it to powder. The monk caught sight of the blow through a tiny hole in the window and, almost paralyzed with fear, began crawling under the bed while the worker tried desperately to creep into the opening of the kitchen range, yelling all the time: “Father! The rod’s too heavy! The rod’s too heavy! I can’t take it! It’s convenient! It’s convenient!” Pilgrim said, “Monk, I won’t hit you now. I’m asking you, how many monks are there in this monastery?” Shaking all over, the monk-official said, “There are two hundred and eighty-five chambers back and front, and we have altogether five hundred certified monks.” “Go quickly and call up every one of those five hundred monks,” said Pilgrim. “Tell them to put on their long robes and receive my master in here. Then I won’t hit you.” “Father,” said the monk-official, “if you won’t hit us, we’ll be glad even to carry him inside.” “Go now!” said Pilgrim. The monk-official said to the worker, “Don’t tell me that your gall has been busted by fear. Even if your heart is busted, you still have to go and call up these people to welcome the Holy Father Tang.”

With no alternative at all, the worker had to risk his life. He dared not, however, walk out the door, but crawled out instead in the back through the dog hole from where he went to the main hall in front. He began striking the bell on the west and beating the drum on the east. The sounds of these two instruments soon aroused all the monks living in their quarters along the two corridors. They arrived at the main hall and asked, “It’s still early. Why do you beat the drum and strike the bell?” “Change your clothes quickly,” said the worker, “and line yourselves up to follow Old Master to go out of the gate in order to welcome a Holy Father from the Tang court.” The various monks indeed arranged themselves in order to go out of the gate for the reception; some of them put on their cassocks, while others put on their togas. Those who had neither wore long, bell-shaped gowns, while the poorest ones folded up their skirts and draped them over both their shoulders. When Pilgrim saw them, he asked, “Monks, what kind of clothes do you have on?” When the monks saw how fierce and ugly he looked, they said, “Father, don’t hit us. Let us tell you what we have on. The cloth was donated to us by the families in the city. As we don’t have any tailor around here, we have to make our own clothes. The style is called A Wrap of Woe.”

Smiling silently to himself when he heard these words, Pilgrim guarded the monks and saw to it that each one of them walked out of the gate and kneeled down. After he kowtowed, the monk-official cried out: “Venerable Father Tang, please go to the abbot chamber and take a seat.” When Eight Rules saw what was happening, he said, “Master is so incompetent! When you walked inside just now, you returned not only with tears, but you were pouting so much that you looked as if two flasks of oil had been hung on your lips. Now, what sort of cunning does Elder Brother have that makes them kowtow to receive us?” “You Idiot!” said Tripitaka. “You don’t know what’s going on! As the proverb says, ‘Even ghosts are afraid of nasty people.’”

When the Tang Monk saw them kowtowing, he was very embarrassed and he approached them, saying, “Please rise, all of you.” The various monks continued to kowtow, saying, “If the Venerable Father could speak on our behalf to your disciple and ask him not to hit us with that pole, we would be willing to kneel here for a whole month.” “Wukong,” cried the Tang Monk, “don’t hit them.” “I haven’t,” said Pilgrim, “for if I did, they would have been exterminated.” Only then did those monks get up; some went to lead the horse while others took up the pole of luggage. They lifted up the Tang Monk, carried Eight Rules, and took hold of Sha Monk—all crowded inside the monastery gate and headed for the abbot chamber in the back.

After the pilgrims took their seats, the monks came again to do obeisance. “Abbot, please rise,” said Tripitaka. “There’s no need for you to go through such ceremony anymore, or your poor monk will find it much too burdensome. You and I, after all, are all disciples within the gate of Buddha.” “The Venerable Father,” said the monk-official, “is an imperial envoy of a noble nation, and this humble monk has not properly welcomed you when you reached our desolate mountain. Our vulgar eyes could not recognize your esteemed countenance, though it was our good fortune that we should meet. Permit me to ask the Venerable Father to tell me whether he was eating meat or vegetarian food on the way. We can then prepare your meal.” “Vegetarian food,” said Tripitaka. “Disciples,” said the monk-official, “this Holy Father prefers vegetarian food.” Pilgrim said, “We, too, have been eating vegetarian food. We have maintained such a diet, in fact, even before we were born.”

“O Father!” exclaimed that monk. “Such violent men would eat vegetarian food, too?” Another monk, who was slightly more courageous, drew near and asked again, “If the Venerable Fathers prefer vegetarian food, how much rice should we cook?” “You cheapskates!” said Eight Rules. “Why ask? For our family, cook a picul of rice.” The monks all became frightened; they went at once to scrub and wash the pots and pans and to prepare the meal. Bright lamps were brought in as they set the table to entertain the Tang Monk.

After master and disciples had eaten the vegetarian dinner, the monks took away the dishes and the furniture. “Old Abbot,” said Tripitaka, thanking him, “we are greatly indebted to you and your hospitality.” “Not at all, not at all,” said the monk-official, “we haven’t done anything for you.” Tripitaka asked, “Where should we sleep?” “Don’t be impatient, Venerable Father,” said the monk-official. “This humble cleric has everything planned.” He then asked, “Worker, do you have some people there who are free to work?” “Yes, Master,” said the worker. The monk-official instructed them, saying, “Two of you should go and get some hay to feed the horse of Venerable Father Tang. The rest can go to the front and clean up three of the Chan halls; set up bedding and mosquito nets so that the Venerable Fathers can take their rest.”

The workers obeyed and each of them finished the preparation before returning to invite the Tang Monk to go take his rest. Master and disciples led the horse and toted the luggage; they left the abbot chamber and went to the door of the Chan halls, where they saw inside brightly lit lamps and four rattan beds with bedding all laid out. Pilgrim asked the worker who brought the hay to haul it inside the Chan halls, where they tied up the white horse also. The workers were then told to leave. As Tripitaka sat down beneath the lamps, two rows of monks—all five hundred of them—stood on both sides and waited upon him, not daring to leave. Tripitaka got up and said, “Please go back, all of you. This humble cleric can then rest comfortably.” The monks refused to retire, for the monk-official had given them this instruction: “Wait upon the Venerable Father until he retires. Then you may leave.” Only after Tripitaka said, “I’m all cared for, please go back,” did they dare disperse.

The Tang Monk stepped outside the door to relieve himself, and he saw a bright moon high in the sky. “Disciples,” he called out, and Pilgrim, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk all came out to wait on him. Moved by the bright, pure light of the moon—a round orb loftily hung to illumine the great Earth—and filled with longing for his homeland, Tripitaka composed orally a long poem in the ancient style. The poem said:

The bright soul, mirror-like, hangs in the sky,

Her radiance pervades the whole, vast world:

Pure light fills jasper towers and jade halls;

Crisp air swaths an ice tray, a silver pan.

Ten thousand miles are all made luminous;

Her beams tonight are this year’s brightest—

Like a cake of frost leaving dark blue sea,

Or an ice-wheel hung on the jade-green sky.

When one guest pines by an inn’s cold transoms,

Or an old man sleeps in a mountain lodge,

She comes to the Han court to shock grey hair13

And hastens late makeup, reaching towers of Qin.14

For her Yu Liang15 has verse for History of Jin,

And Yuan Hong16 stays up to sail his river skiff.

Floating on cup rims she’s a cold, weak gleam;

Lighting the yard, she’s brilliant as god.

By each window one can sing of white snow17

And press in every house the icy strings.18

Now her pleasure comes to a monastery.

When will she join me to return back home?

When Pilgrim heard these words, he approached him and said, “Master, all you know is that the moonlight fills you with longing for home, but you don’t understand that the moon may symbolize the rules and regulations of nature’s many modes and forms.19 When the moon reaches the thirtieth day, the metal [phase] in its yang spirit is completely dissolved, whereas the water [phase] of its yin soul is filled to the brim of the orb. This is the reason for the designation of that day with the term Obscure,20 for the moon is completely dark and without light. It is at this moment also that the moon copulates with the sun, and during the time of the thirtieth day and the first day of the month, it will become pregnant by the light of the sun. By the third day, one [stroke]21 of the yang will appear, and two [strokes] of the yang will be born by the eighth day. At this time, the moon will have half of its yang spirit in the middle of its yin soul, and its lower half is flat like a rope. That is the reason why the time of the month is callled the Upper Bow. By the fifteenth day, all three [strokes] of the yang will be ready, and perfect union will be achieved. That is why this time of the month is called To Face.22 On the sixteenth day, one [stroke] of the yin will be born, and the second stroke will make its appearance on the twenty-second day. At that time half of the yin soul will be in the middle of the yang spirit, and its upper half is flat like a rope. That is the reason why this time of the month is called the Lower Bow. By the thirtieth day, all three [strokes] of the yin will be ready, and the moon has then reached the state of obscurity once more. All this is the symbol of the process of cultivation practiced by nature. If we can nourish the Two Eights23 until we reach the perfection of Nine Times Nine,24 then it will be simple for us at that moment to see Buddha, and simple also for us to return to our home. The poem says:

After the First Quarter and before the Last:

Medicine well-blended, the outlook’s perfect.

What you acquire from picking, smelt in the stove—

Determination’s fruit is Western Heaven.”25

When the elder heard what he said, he was immediately enlightened and understood completely these words of realized immortality. Filled with delight, he thanked Wukong repeatedly.

On one side, Sha Monk smiled and said, “Though Elder Brother spoke most appropriately concerning how the first quarter of the moon belonged to the yang and the last quarter belonged to the yin, and how in the midst of yin and in the middle of yang one could obtain the metal of water, he did not mention

Water and fire mixed—each to the other drawn—

Depend on Earth Mother to make this match.

Three parties thus fused face no war or strife:26

Water’s in Long River, the moon’s in the sky.”

When the elder heard that, his dull mind was again opened up. Thus it was that

Truth, grasped by the heart’s one hole, clears up a thousand.

Once you solve the riddle of no birth, you are a god.

Then Eight Rules walked up to the elder and tugged at him, saying, “Master, don’t listen to all their babblings and delay your sleep. This moon,

After it wanes, will soon grow round again.

Like me it was born none too perfectly!

At meals I’m disliked for too large a maw;

I drool too much, they say, on bowls I hold.

They have their blessings earned through cleverness;

I have affinity stocked by foolishness.

I tell you that

Fetching scriptures will end your three karmic paths.

Wagging head and tail you’ll go up to Heav’n!”

“All right, Disciples,” said Tripitaka, “you must be tired from all this journeying. You may go to sleep first, and let me meditate on this roll of scripture.”

“Master, you must be mistaken,” said Pilgrim. “You left the family in your youth to become a monk. How could you not be completely familiar with all the scriptures you studied when you were young? Then you received the command from the Tang emperor to go to the Western Heaven and see Buddha for the True Canon of Mahāyāna. But at this moment, your merit has not been perfected, you have not seen the Buddha, and you have not yet acquired the scriptures. Which roll of scripture do you want to meditate on?” Tripitaka said, “Since I left Chang’an, I have been traveling day and night, and I fear that the scriptures I learned in my youth might slip away from me. Tonight there’s a little time, and I want to do some reviewing.” “In that case,” said Pilgrim, “we’ll go to sleep first.” The three disciples indeed lay down on three of the rattan beds. Closing the door of the Zen hall and turning up the lamp, the elder opened his roll of scripture and began to read and meditate in silence. Truly it was that

First watch struck from a tower, human bustle ceased,

When fishing-boat fires by wild banks went out.

We don’t know how that elder will depart from the monastery; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.