第四十四回

第四十四回 法身元运逢车力 心正妖邪度脊关

诗曰：

求经脱瘴向西游，无数名山不尽休。

兔走乌飞催昼夜，鸟啼花落自春秋。

微尘眼底三千界，锡杖头边四百州。

宿水餐风登紫陌，未期何日是回头。

话说唐三藏幸亏龙子降妖，黑水河神开路，师徒们过了黑河，找大路一直西来。真个是迎霜冒雪，戴月披星。行够多时，又值早春天气。但见：

三阳转运，万物生辉。三阳转运，满天明媚开图画；万物生辉，遍地芳菲设绣茵。梅残数点雪，麦涨一川云。渐开冰解山泉溜，尽放萌芽没烧痕。正是那：太昊乘震[2]，勾芒御辰[3]；花香风气暖，云淡日光新。道旁杨柳舒青眼，膏雨滋生万象春。

师徒们在路上游观景色，缓马而行，忽听得一声吆喝，好便似千万人呐喊之声。唐三藏心中害怕，兜住马不能前进，急回头道：“悟空，是那里这等响振？”八戒道：“好一似地裂山崩。”沙僧道：“也就如雷声霹雳。”三藏道：“还是人喊马嘶。”孙行者笑道：“你们都猜不着。且住，待老孙看是何如。”

好行者，将身一纵，踏云光，起在空中，睁眼观看，远见一座城池，又近觑，倒也祥光隐隐，不见甚么凶气纷纷。行者暗自沉吟道：“好去处！如何有响声振耳？……那城中又无旌旗闪灼，戈戟光明，又不是炮声响振，何以若人马喧哗？……”正议间，只见那城门外，有一块沙滩空地，攒簇了许多和尚，在那里扯车儿哩，原来是一齐着力打号，齐喊“大力王菩萨[4]”，所以惊动唐僧。

行者渐渐按下云头来看处，呀！那车子装的都是砖瓦木植土坯之类；滩头上坡坂最高，又有一道夹脊小路，两座大关；关下之路都是直立壁陡之崖，那车儿怎么拽得上去？虽是天色和暖，那些人却也衣衫蓝缕，看此像十分窘迫。行者心疑道：“想是修盖寺院。他这里五谷丰登，寻不出杂工人来，所以这和尚亲自努力。……”正自猜疑未定，只见那城门里，摇摇摆摆，走出两个少年道士来。你看他怎生打扮。但见他：

头戴星冠，身披锦绣。头戴星冠光耀耀，身披锦绣彩霞飘。足踏云头履，腰系熟丝绦。面如满月多聪俊，形似瑶天仙客娇。

那些和尚见道士来，一个个心惊胆战，加倍着力，恨苦的拽那车子。行者就晓得了：“咦！想必这和尚们怕那道士，不然呵，怎么这等着力拽扯？我曾听得人言，西方路上，有个敬道灭僧之处，断乎此间是也。我待要回报师父，奈何事不明白，返惹他怪，敢道这等一个伶俐之人，就不能探个实信。且等下去问得明白，好回师父话。”

你道他来问谁？好大圣，按落云头，去郡城脚下，摇身一变，变做个游方的云水全真[5]，左臂上挂着一个水火篮儿[6]，手敲着渔鼓，口唱着道情词，近城门，迎着两个道士，当面躬身道：“道长，贫道起手。”那道士还礼道：“先生那里来的？”行者道：“我弟子

云游于海角，浪荡在天涯。

今朝来此处，欲募善人家。

动问二位道长，这城中那条街上好道？那个巷里好贤？我贫道好去化些斋吃。”那道士笑道：“你这先生，怎么说这等败兴的话？”行者道：“何为败兴？”道士道：“你要化些斋吃，却不是败兴？”行者道：“出家人以乞化为由，却不化斋吃，怎生有钱买？”道士笑道：“你是远方来的，不知我这城中之事。我这城中，且休说文武官员好道，富民长者爱贤，大男小女见我等拜请奉斋，——这般都不须挂齿，——头一等就是万岁君王好道爱贤。”行者道：“我贫道一则年幼，二则是远方乍来，实是不知。烦二位道长将这里地名、君王好道爱贤之事，细说一遍，足见同道之情。”道士说：“此城名唤车迟国。宝殿上君王与我们有亲。”

行者闻言，呵呵笑道：“想是道士做了皇帝？”他道：“不是。只因这二十年前，民遭亢旱，天无点雨，地绝谷苗。不论君臣黎庶，大小人家，家家沐浴焚香，户户拜天求雨。正都在倒悬捱命之处，忽然天降下三个仙长来，俯救生灵。”行者问道：“是那三个仙长？”道士说：“便是我家师父。”行者道：“尊师甚号？”道士云：“我大师父，号做虎力大仙；二师父，鹿力大仙；三师父，羊力大仙。”行者问曰：“三位尊师，有多少法力？”道士云：“我那师父，呼风唤雨，只在翻掌之间；指水为油，点石成金，却如转身之易；所以有这般法力，能夺天地之造化，换星斗之玄微，君臣相敬，与我们结为亲也。”行者道：“这皇帝十分造化。常言道：‘术动公卿。’老师父有这般手段，结了亲，其实不亏他。——噫，不知我贫道可有星星[7]缘法，得见那老师父一面哩？”道士笑曰：“你要见我师父，有何难处！我两个是他靠胸贴肉的徒弟，我师父却又好道爱贤，只听见说个‘道’字，就也接出大门。若是我两个引进你，乃吹灰之力。”

行者深深的唱个大喏道：“多承举荐，就此进去罢。”道士说：“且少待片时，你在这里坐下，等我两个把公事干了来，和你进去。”行者道：“出家人无拘无束，自由自在，有甚公干？”道士用手指定那沙滩上僧人：“他做的是我家生活，恐他躲懒，我们去点他一卯就来。”行者笑道：“道长差了！僧道之辈都是出家人，为何他替我们做活，伏我们点卯？”道士云：“你不知道。因当年求雨之时，僧人在一边拜佛，道士在一边告斗[8]，都请朝廷的粮偿[9]；谁知那和尚不中用，空念空经，不能济事。后来我师父一到，唤雨呼风，拔济了万民涂炭。却才恼了朝廷，说那和尚无用，拆了他的山门，毁了他的佛像，追了他的度牒，不放他回乡，御赐与我们家做活，就当小厮一般。我家里烧火的也是他，扫地的也是他，顶门的也是他。因为后边还有住房，未曾完备，着这和尚来拽砖瓦，拖木植，起盖房宇。只恐他贪顽躲懒，不肯拽车，所以着我两个去查点查点。”

行者闻言，扯住道士滴泪道：“我说我无缘，真个无缘，不得见老师父尊面！”道士云：“如何不得见面？”行者道：“我贫道在方上云游，一则是为性命，二则也为寻亲。”道士问：“你有甚么亲？”行者道：“我有一个叔父，自幼出家，削发为僧。向日年程饥馑，也来外面求乞，这几年不见回家，我念祖上之恩，特来顺便寻访。想必是羁迟在此等地方，不能脱身，未可知也。我怎的寻着他见一面，才可与你进城。”道士云：“这般却是容易。我两个且坐下，即烦你去沙滩上替我一查。只点头目有五百名数目便罢，看内中那个是你令叔。果若有呀，我们看道中情分，放他去了，却与你进城好么？”

行者顶谢不尽，长揖一声，别了道士，敲着渔鼓，径往沙滩之上。过了双关，转下夹脊，那和尚一齐跪下磕头道：“爷爷，我等不曾躲懒，五百名半个不少，都在此扯车哩。”行者看见，暗笑道：“这些和尚，被道士打怕了，见我这假道士就这般悚惧。若是个真道士，好道也活不成了。”行者又摇手道：“不要跪，休怕。我不是监工的，我来此是寻亲的。”众僧们听说认亲，就把他圈子阵围将上来，一个个出头露面，咳嗽打响，巴不得要认出去，道：“不知那个是他亲哩。”行者认了一会，呵呵笑将起来。众僧道：“老爷不认亲，如何发笑？”行者道：“你们知我笑甚么？笑你这些和尚全不长俊[10]！父母生下你来，皆因命犯华盖[11]，妨爷克[12]娘，或是不招[13]姊妹，才把你舍断了出家。你怎的不遵三宝，不敬佛法，不去看经拜忏，却怎么与道士佣工，作奴婢使唤？”众僧道：“老爷，你来羞我们哩！你老人家想是个外边来的，不知我这里利害。”行者道：“果是外方来的，其实不知你这里有甚利害。”

众僧滴泪道：“我们这一国君王，偏心无道，只喜得是老爷等辈，恼的是我们佛子。”行者道：“为何来？”众僧道：“只因呼风唤雨，三个仙长来此处灭了我等，哄信君王，把我们寺拆了，度牒追了，不放归乡，亦不许补役当差，赐与那仙长家使用，苦楚难当！但有个游方道者至此，即请拜王领赏；若是和尚来，不分远近，就拿来与仙长家佣工。”行者道：“想必那道士还有甚么巧法术，诱了君王？若只是呼风唤雨，也都是傍门小法术耳，安能动得君心？”众僧道：“他会炼砂干汞，打坐存神，点水为油，点石成金。如今兴盖三清观宇，对天地昼夜看经忏悔，祈君王万年不老，所以就把君心惑动了。”

行者道：“原来这般。你们都走了便罢。”众僧道：“老爷，走不脱！那仙长奏准君王，把我们画了影身图，四下里长川[14]张挂。他这车迟国地界也宽，各府州县乡村店集之方，都有一张和尚图，上面是御笔亲题。若有官职的，拿得一个和尚，高升三级；无官职的，拿得一个和尚，就赏白银五十两。所以走不脱。且莫说是和尚，就是剪鬃、秃子、毛稀的，都也难逃。四下里快手[15]又多，缉事的又广，凭你怎么也是难脱。我们没奈何，只得在此苦捱。”

行者道：“既然如此，你们死了便罢。”众僧道：“老爷，有死的。到处捉来与本处和尚，也共有二千馀众。到此熬不得苦楚，受不得爊煎，忍不得寒冷，服不得水土，死了有六七百，自尽了有七八百，只有我这五百个不得死。”行者道：“怎么不得死？”众僧道：“悬梁绳断，刀刎不疼，投河的飘起不沉，服药的身安不损。”行者道：“你却造化，天赐汝等长寿哩！”众僧道：“老爷呀，你少了一个字儿，是‘长受罪’哩！我等日食三餐，乃是糙米熬得稀粥，到晚就在沙滩上冒露安身。才合眼，就有神人拥护。”行者道：“想是累苦了，见鬼么？”众僧道：“不是鬼，乃是六丁六甲、护教伽蓝。但至夜，就来保护。但有要死的，就保着，不教他死。”行者道：“这些神却也没理，只该教你们早死早生天，却来保护怎的？”众僧道：“他在梦寐中劝解我们，教‘不要寻死，且苦捱着，等那东土大唐圣僧，往西天取经的罗汉。他手下有个徒弟，乃齐天大圣，神通广大，专秉忠良之心，与人间报不平之事，济困扶危，恤孤念寡。只等他来显神通，灭了道士，还敬你们沙门禅教哩’。”

行者闻得此言，心中暗笑道：“莫说老孙无手段，预先神圣早传名。”他急抽身，敲着渔鼓，别了众僧，径来城门口，见了道士。那道士迎着道：“先生，那一位是令亲？”行者道：“五百个都与我有亲。”两个道士笑道：“你怎么就有许多亲？”行者道：“一百个是我左邻，一百个是我右舍，一百个是我父党[16]，一百个是我母党，一百个是我交契。你若肯把这五百人都放了，我便与你进去，不放，我不去了。”道士云：“你想有些风病，一时间就胡说了。那些和尚乃国王御赐，若放一二名，还要在师父处递了病状，然后补个死状，才了得哩。怎么说都放了！此理不通！不通！且不要说我家没人使唤，就是朝廷也要怪。他那里长要差官查勘，或时御驾也亲来点札，怎么敢放？”行者道：“不放么？”道士说：“不放！”行者连问三声，就怒将起来，把耳朵里铁棒取出，迎风捻了一捻，就碗来粗细，晃了一晃，照道士脸上一刮，可怜就打得头破血流身倒地，皮开颈折脑浆倾！

那滩上僧人，远远望见他打杀了两个道士，丢了车儿，跑将上来道：“不好了！不好了！打杀皇亲了！”行者道：“那个是皇亲？”众僧把他簸箕阵围了，道：“他师父上殿不参王，下殿不辞王，朝廷常称做‘国师兄长先生’。你怎么到这里闯祸？他徒弟出来监工，与你无干，你怎么把他来打死？那仙长不说是你来打杀，只说是来此监工，我们害了他性命。我等怎了？且与你进城去，会了人命出来。”行者笑道：“列位休嚷。我不是云水全真，我是来救你们的。”众僧道：“你倒打杀人，害了我们，添了担儿，如何是救我们的？”

行者道：“我是大唐圣僧徒弟孙悟空行者，特特来此救你们性命。”众僧道：“不是！不是！那老爷我们认得他。”行者道：“又不曾会他，如何认得？”众僧道：“我们梦中尝见一个老者，自言太白金星，常教诲我等，说那孙行者的模样，莫教错认了。”行者道：“他和你怎么说来？”众僧道：“他说：‘那大圣：

磕额金睛幌亮，圆头毛脸无腮。咨牙尖嘴性情乖，貌比雷公古怪。　惯使金箍铁棒，曾将天阙攻开。如今皈正保僧来，专救人间灾害。’”

行者闻言，又嗔又喜。喜道替老孙传名，嗔道那老贼惫懒，把我的元身都说与这伙凡人！忽失声道：“列位诚然认我不是孙行者。我是孙行者的门人，来此处学闯祸耍子的。那里不是孙行者来了？”用手向东一指，哄得众僧回头，他却现了本相。众僧们方才认得，一个个倒身下拜道：“爷爷！我等凡胎肉眼，不知是爷爷显化。望爷爷与我们雪恨消灾，早进城降邪从正也！”行者道：“你们且跟我来。”众僧紧随左右。

那大圣径至沙滩上，使个神通，将车儿拽过两关，穿过夹脊，提起来，捽得粉碎；把那些砖瓦木植，尽抛下坡坂；喝教众僧：“散！莫在我手脚边。等我明日见这皇帝，灭那道士！”众僧道：“爷爷呀，我等不敢远走，但恐在官人拿住解来，却又吃打发赎，返又生灾。”行者道：“既如此，我与你个护身法儿。”好大圣，把毫毛拔了一把，嚼得粉碎，每一个和尚与他一截，都教他：“捻在无名指甲里，捻着拳头，只情走路。无人敢拿你便罢；若有人拿你，攒紧了拳头，叫一声‘齐天大圣’，我就来护你。”众僧道：“爷爷，倘若去得远了，看不见你，叫你不应，怎么是好？”行者道：“你只管放心。就是万里之遥，可保全无事。”

众僧有胆量大的，捻着拳头，悄悄的叫声：“齐天大圣！”只见一个雷公站在面前，手执铁棒，就是千军万马也不能近身。此时有百十众齐叫，足有百十个大圣护持。众僧叩头道：“爷爷！果然灵显！”行者又分付：“叫声‘寂’字，还你收了。”真个是叫声：“寂！”依然还是毫毛在那指甲缝里。众和尚却才欢喜逃生，一齐而散。行者道：“不可十分远遁，听我城中消息。但有招僧榜出，就进城还我毫毛也。”五百个和尚，东的东，西的西，走的走，立的立，四散不题。

却说那唐僧在路旁，等不得行者回话，教猪八戒引马投西，遇着些僧人奔走，将近城边，见行者还与十数个未散的和尚在那里。三藏勒马道：“悟空，你怎么来打听个响声，许久不回？”行者引了十数个和尚，对唐僧马前施礼，将上项事说了一遍。三藏大惊道：“这般呵，我们怎了？”那十数个和尚道：“老爷放心。孙大圣爷爷乃天神降的，神通广大，定保老爷无虞。我等是这城里敕建智渊寺内僧人。因这寺是先王太祖御造的，现有先王太祖神像在内，未曾拆毁。城中寺院，大小尽皆拆了。我等请老爷赶早进城，到我荒山安下。待明日早朝，孙大圣必有处置。”行者道：“汝等说得是。也罢，趁早进城去来。”

那长老却才下马，行到城门之下，此时已太阳西坠。过吊桥，进了三层门里，街上人见智渊寺的和尚牵马挑包，尽皆回避。正行时，却到山门前，但见那门上高悬着一面金字大匾，乃“敕建智渊寺”。众僧推开门，穿过金刚殿，把正殿门开了。唐僧取袈裟披起，拜毕金身方入。众僧叫：“看家的！”老和尚走出来，看见行者就拜，道：“爷爷！你来了？”行者道：“你认得我是那个爷爷，就这等呼拜？”那和尚道：“我认得你是齐天大圣孙爷爷。我们夜夜梦中见你。太白金星常常来托梦，说道只等你来，我们才得性命。今日果见尊颜与梦中无异。爷爷呀，喜得早来！再迟一两日，我等已俱做鬼矣！”行者笑道：“请起，请起。明日就有分晓。”众僧安排了斋饭，他师徒们吃了，打扫干净方丈，安寝一宿。

二更时候，孙大圣心中有事，偏睡不着。只听那里吹打，悄悄的爬起来，穿了衣服，跳在空中观看，原来是正南上灯烛荧煌。低下云头仔细再看，却乃是三清观道士禳星哩。但见那：

灵区高殿，福地真堂。灵区高殿，巍巍壮似蓬壶景；福地真堂，隐隐清如化乐宫。两边道士奏笙簧，正面高公擎玉简。宣理《消灾忏》，开讲《道德经》。扬尘几度尽传符，表白一番皆俯伏。咒水发檄，烛焰飘摇冲上界；查罡布斗[17]，香烟馥郁透清霄。案头有供献新鲜，桌上有斋筵丰盛。

殿门前挂一联黄绫织锦的对句，绣着二十二个大字，云：“雨顺风调，愿祝天尊无量法；河清海晏，祈求万岁有馀年。”行者见三个老道士，披了法衣，想是那虎力、鹿力、羊力大仙。下面有七八百个散众，司鼓司钟，侍香表白，尽都侍立两边。行者暗自喜道：“我欲下去与他混一混，奈何‘单丝不线，孤掌难鸣’。且回去照顾八戒、沙僧，一同来耍耍。”

按落祥云，径至方丈中，原来八戒与沙僧通脚睡着[18]。行者先叫悟净，沙和尚醒来道：“哥哥，你还不曾睡哩？”行者道：“你且起来，我和你受用些来。”沙僧道：“半夜三更，口枯眼涩，有甚受用？”行者道：“这城里果有一座三清观，观里道士们修醮，三清殿上有许多供养：馒头足有斗大，烧果有五六十斤一个，衬饭[19]无数，果品新鲜。和你受用去来！”那猪八戒睡梦里听见说吃好东西，就醒了，道：“哥哥，就不带挈我些儿？”行者道：“兄弟，你要吃东西，不要大呼小叫，惊醒了师父。都跟我来。”

他两个套上衣服，悄悄的走出门前，随行者踏了云头，跳将起去。那呆子看见灯光，就要下手。行者扯住道：“且休忙。待他散了，方可下去。”八戒道：“他才念到兴头上，却怎么肯散？”行者道：“等我弄个法儿，他就散了。”

好大圣，捻着诀，念个咒语，往巽地上吸一口气，呼的吹去，便是一阵狂风，径直卷进那三清殿上，把他些花瓶烛台，四壁上悬挂的功德，一齐刮倒，遂而灯火无光，众道士心惊胆战。虎力大仙道：“徒弟们且散。这阵神风所过，吹灭了灯烛香花。各人归寝，明朝早起，多念几卷经文补数。”众道士果各退回。

这行者却引八戒、沙僧，按落云头，闯上三清殿。呆子不论生熟，拿过烧果来，张口就啃。行者掣铁棒，着手便打。八戒缩手躲过道：“还不曾尝着甚么滋味就打！”行者道：“莫要小家子行。且叙礼坐下受用。”八戒道：“不羞！偷东西吃，还要叙礼！若是请将来，却要如何！”行者道：“这上面坐的是甚么菩萨？”八戒笑道：“三清也认不得，却认做甚么菩萨！”行者道：“那三清？”八戒道：“中间的是元始天尊，左边的是灵宝道君，右边的是太上老君。”行者道：“都要变得这般模样，才吃得安稳哩。”那呆子急了，闻得那香喷喷供养要吃，爬上高台，把老君一嘴拱下去道：“老官儿，你也坐得够了，让我老猪坐坐。”八戒变做太上老君，行者变做元始天尊，沙僧变作灵宝道君，把原像都推下去。

及坐下时，八戒就抢大馒头吃。行者道：“莫忙哩！”八戒道：“哥哥，变得如此，还不吃等甚？”行者道：“兄弟呀，吃东西事小，泄漏天机事大。这圣像都推在地下，倘有起早的道士来撞钟扫地，或绊一个根头，却不走漏消息？你把他藏过一边来。”八戒道：“此处路生，摸门不着，却那里藏他？”行者道：“我才进来时，那右手下有一重小门儿，那里面秽气畜[20]人，想必是个五谷轮回之所。你把他送在那里去罢。”

这呆子有些夯力量，跳下来，把三个圣像拿在肩膊上，扛将出来；到那厢，用脚蹬开门看时，原来是个大东厕，笑道：“这个弼马温着然会嘴弄舌！把个毛坑也与他起个道号，叫做甚么‘五谷轮回之所’！”那呆子扛在肩上且不丢了去，口里啯啯哝哝的祷道：

“三清，三清，我说你听：远方到此，惯灭妖精。欲享供养，无处安宁。借你坐位，略略少停。你等坐久，也且暂下毛坑。你平日家受用无穷，做个清净道士；今日里不免享些秽物，也做个受臭气的天尊！”

祝罢，烹的望里一捽，[21]了半衣襟臭水，走上殿来。行者道：“可藏得好么？”八戒道：“藏便藏得好，只是起些水来，污了衣服，有些腌脏臭气，你休恶心。”行者笑道：“也罢，你且来受用，但不知可得个干净身子出门哩。”那呆子还变做老君。三人坐下，尽情受用。先吃了大馒头，后吃簇盘、衬饭、点心、拖炉、饼锭、油煠、蒸酥，那里管甚么冷熟，任情吃起。原来孙行者不大吃烟火食，只吃几个果子，陪他两个。那一顿如流星赶月，风卷残云，吃得罄尽。已此没得吃了，还不走路，且在那里闲讲，消食耍子。

噫！有这般事！原来那东廊下有一个小道士，才睡下，忽然起来道：“我的手铃儿忘记在殿上，若失落了，明日师父见责。”与那同睡者道：“你睡着，等我寻去。”急忙中不穿底衣，止扯一领直裰，径到正殿中寻铃。摸来摸去，铃儿摸着了，正欲回头，只听得有呼吸之声。道士害怕，急拽步往外走时，不知怎的，着一个荔枝核子，扑的滑了一跌，的一声，把个铃儿跌得粉碎。猪八戒忍不住呵呵大笑出来。把个小道士唬走了三魂，惊回了七魄，一步一跌，撞到后方丈外，打着门叫：“师公！不好了！祸事了！”三个老道士还未曾睡，即开门问：“有甚祸事？”他战战兢兢道：“弟子忘失了手铃儿，因去殿上寻铃，只听得有人呵呵大笑，险些儿唬杀我也！”老道士闻言，即叫：“掌灯来！看是甚么邪物？”一声传令，惊动那两廊道士，大大小小，都爬起来点灯着火，往正殿上观看。不知端的何如，且听下回分解。

[1] 脊关：道教内丹术术语，又名“夹脊”，“双关”等，一般认为是沿着脊椎两侧十七个穴位的总称。修炼的时候要引导下丹田的元气下降，再沿着督脉经尾闾、夹脊、玉枕三关，上升至头部的上丹田；然后再沿人体正面的任脉下降，回到下丹田。这个过程被称为“河车搬运”或者“转河车”。

[2] 太昊（hào）乘震：震，八卦之一，方位是东方。春天是由东方之“神”太昊来司命，所以春回大地，就称为太昊乘震。

[3] 勾芒御辰：勾芒，我国神话传说中的木神名。御辰，掌握这个时令。勾应作句。

[4] 大力王菩萨：元代平话本《西游记》中“孙悟空”取经功成后被封的佛号。这说明百回本《西游记》的祖本即平话本。

[5] 云水全真：到处云游的全真道士。全真，道教的一个派别。

[6] 水火篮儿：云游道人所带的药篮。因篮为红色，篮中药物为黑色，故称水火篮。

[7] 星星：一些些、一点点。

[8] 告斗：向北斗星祷告。

[9] 粮偿：以粮米报偿。指受到朝廷的供养。

[10] 长俊：犹长进。

[11] 华盖：星命家认为，华盖本是“吉星”，但由于既主聪明，又主孤独，所以命犯华盖，会缺少父母及亲人的扶助，如下文所说“妨爷克娘”，“不招姊妹”。

[12] 克：迷信说法，认为人生下来有属相相克，有五行相克，命硬的又克父母。

[13] 招：引。迷信说法，认为给女孩取名“招弟”，可以生个男孩。这里所说的不招，指命孤而言。

[14] 长川：永远、长久。

[15] 快手：古时专司逮捕人犯的差役。

[16] 父党：父系宗亲，如叔、伯、姑等。下文“母党”是指母系宗亲，如舅、姨等。

[17] 查罡（ɡānɡ）布斗：当为“踏罡布斗”，是道教斋醮时礼拜星斗、召请神灵的一种仪式。作法时要踏着北斗七星的方位，按一定的步伐行走。罡，北斗斗杓的最末一颗星。布，同“步”。

[18] 通脚睡着：同床两头睡，脚心相对，所以叫通脚睡着。

[19] 衬饭：斋供的饭食。

[20] 畜：熏、呛。第六十七回又写作“旭”。

[21] （zàn）：溅。

CHAPTER 44. The dharma-body in primal cycle meets the force of the cart; The mind, righting monstrous deviates, crosses the spine-ridge pass.

The poem says:

To seek scriptures and freedom they go to the West,

An endless toil through countless mounts of fame.

The days fly by like darting hares and crows;

As petals fall and birds sing the seasons go.

A little dust—the eye reveals three thousand worlds;

The priestly staff—its head has seen four hundred isles.

They feed on wind and rest on dew to seek their goal,1

Not knowing which day they may all return.

We were telling you about Tripitaka Tang and his disciples, who found the main road to the West. Truly they had to face the wind and brave the snow, to be capped by the moon and cloaked by the stars. They journeyed for a long time and soon it was the time of early spring. You see

The cycled return of triple yang;2

The radiance of all things.

The cycled return of triple yang

Makes all Heavens beguiling like a painted scroll;

The radiance of all things

Means flowers spread brocade through all the earth.

The plums fade to a few specks of snow;

The grains swell with the valley clouds.

Ice breaks gradually and mountain streams flow;

Seedlings sprout completely and unparched.

Truly it is that

The God of the Year rides forth;

The God of the Woods takes a drive.

Warm breezes waft floral fragrance;

Light clouds renew the light of the sun.

Willows by the wayside spread their curvate green;

The rains give life; all things bear the looks of spring.

As master and disciples traveled slowly along the road, enjoying the scenery as they proceeded, they suddenly heard a loud cry that seemed the roar of ten thousand voices. Tripitaka Tang was so startled that he immediately pulled in his reins and refused to go forward. Turning back, he said, “Wukong, where did that terrible din come from?” “Yes, it sounded as if the earth were splitting apart and the mountains were toppling,” said Eight Rules. “More like the crack of thunder I’d say,” said Sha Monk. Tripitaka said, “I still think it’s men shouting or horses neighing.” With a chuckle, Pilgrim Sun said, “None of you has guessed correctly. Stop here and let old Monkey go take a look.”

Dear Pilgrim! He leaped up at once and rose into midair, treading on the cloudy luminosity. He peered into the distance and discovered a moated city; when he looked more carefully, he saw that it was veiled by auspicious luminosity after all and not by any baleful vapor. “This is a nice place,” Pilgrim thought to himself. “Why should there be such an ear-splitting roar? There are no banners or spears in sight in the city, and what we heard couldn’t possibly be the roar of cannons. Why is it then that we hear this hubbub of men and horses?” As he was thus thinking to himself, a large group of monks came into his sight: on a sandy beach outside the city gate they were trying to pull a cart up a steep ridge. As they strained and tugged, they cried out in unison to call on the name of the Bodhisattva King Powerful for help, and this was the noise that startled the Tang Monk. Pilgrim lowered his cloud gradually to take a closer look. Aha! The cart was loaded with bricks, tiles, timber, earth clods, and the like. The ridge was exceedingly tall, and leading up to it was a small spine-like path flanked by two perpendicular passes, with walls like two giant cliffs. How could the cart possibly be dragged up there? Though it was such a fine warm day that one would expect people to dress lightly, what the monks had on were virtually rags. They looked destitute indeed! Pilgrim thought to himself, “I suppose they must be trying to build or repair a monastery, and since a region like this undoubtedly yields a bountiful harvest, it must be difficult for them to find part-time laborers. That’s why these monks themselves have to work so hard.” As he was thus speculating, he saw two young Daoists swagger out of the city gate. “How were they dressed?” you ask.

Star caps crowned their heads;

Brocades draped their bodies;

Luminous star caps crowned their heads;

Colorful brocades draped their bodies.

Cloud-headed boots3 held up their feet;

Fine silk sashes tied up their waists.

Like full moons their faces were handsome and bright;

They had the fair forms of jade-Heaven gods.

When the monks saw the two Daoists, they were terrified; every one of them redoubled his effort to pull desperately at the cart. “So, that’s it!” said Pilgrim, comprehending the situation all at once. “These monks must be awfully afraid of the Daoists, for if not, why should they be tugging so hard at the carts? I have heard someone say that there is a place on the road to the West where Daoism is revered and Buddhism is set for destruction. This must be the place. I would like to go back and report this to Master, but I still don’t know the whole truth and he might blame me for bringing him surmises, saying that even a smart person like me can’t be counted on for a reliable report. Let me go down there and question them thoroughly before I give Master an answer.”

“Whom would he question?” you ask. Dear Great Sage! He lowered his cloud and with a shake of his torso, he changed at the foot of the city into a mendicant Daoist of the Complete Truth order, with an exorcist hamper hung on his left arm. Striking a hollow wooden fish with his hands and chanting lyrics of Daoist themes, he walked up to the two Daoists near the city gate. “Masters,” he said, bowing, “this humble Daoist raises his hand.” Returning his salute, one of the Daoists said, “Sir, where did you come from?” “This disciple,” said Pilgrim, “has wandered to the corners of the sea and to the edges of Heaven. I arrived here this morning with the sole purpose of collecting subscriptions for good works. May I ask the two masters which street in this city is favorable toward the Dao, and which alley is inclined toward piety? This humble Daoist would like to go there and beg for some vegetarian food.” Smiling, the Daoist said, “O Sir! Why do you speak in such a disgraceful manner?” “What do you mean by disgraceful?” asked Pilgrim. “If you want to beg for vegetarian food,” said the Daoist, “isn’t that disgraceful?” Pilgrim said, “Those who have left the family live by begging. If I didn’t beg, where would I have money to buy food?”

Chuckling, the Daoist said, “You’ve come from afar, and you don’t know anything about our city. In this city of ours, not only the civil and military officials are fond of the Dao, the rich merchants and men of prominence devoted to piety, but even the ordinary citizens, young and old, will bow to present us once they see us. It is, in fact, a trivial matter, hardly worth mentioning. What’s most important about our city is that His Majesty, the king, is also fond of the Dao and devoted to piety.” “This humble cleric is first of all quite young,” said Pilgrim, “and second, he is indeed from afar. In truth I’m ignorant of the situation here. May I trouble the two masters to tell me the name of this place and give me a thorough account of how the king has come to be so devoted to the cause of Dao—for the sake of fraternal feelings among us Daoists?” The Daoist said, “This city has the name of the Cart Slow Kingdom, and the ruler on the precious throne is a relative of ours.”

When Pilgrim heard these words, he broke into loud guffaws, saying, “I suppose that a Daoist has become king.” “No,” said the Daoist. “What happened was that twenty years ago, this region had a drought, so severe that not a single drop of rain fell from the sky and all grains and plants perished. The king and his subjects, the rich as well as the poor—every person was burning incense and praying to Heaven for relief. Just when it seemed that nothing else could preserve their lives, three immortals suddenly descended from the sky and saved us all.”

“Who were these immortals?” asked Pilgrim.

“Our masters,” said the Daoist.

“What are their names?” asked Pilgrim. The Daoist replied, “The eldest master is called the Tiger-Strength Great Immortal; the second master, the Deer-Strength Great Immortal; and the third master, Goat-Strength Great Immortal.” “What kinds of magic power do your esteemed teachers possess?” asked Pilgrim. The Daoist said, “Summoning the wind and the rain for my masters would be as easy as flipping over one’s palms; they point at water and it will change into oil; they touch stones and change them into gold, as quickly as one turns over in bed. With this kind of magic power, they are thus able to rob the creative genius of Heaven and Earth, to alter the mysteries of the stars and constellations. The king and his subjects have such profound respect for them that all of us Daoists are claimed as royal kin.”

Pilgrim said, “This ruler is lucky, all right. After all, the proverb says, ‘Magic moves ministers!’ He certainly can’t lose to claim kinship with your old masters, if they possess such powers. Alas! I wonder if I had even the tiniest spark of affinity, such that I could have an audience with the old masters.” Chuckling, the Daoist replied, “If you want to see our masters, it’s not difficult at all. The two of us are their bosom disciples. Moreover, our masters are so devoted to the Way and so deferential to the pious that the mere mention of the word ‘Dao’ would bring them out of the door, full of welcome. If we two were to introduce you, we would need to exert ourselves no more vigorously than to blow away some ashes.”

Bowing deeply, Pilgrim said, “I am indebted to you for your introduction. Let us go into the city then.” “Let’s wait a moment,” said one of the Daoists. “You sit here while we two finish our official business first. Then we’ll go with you.” Pilgrim said, “Those of us who have left the family are without cares or ties; we are completely free. What do you mean by official business?” The Daoist pointed with his finger at the monks on the beach and said, “Their work happens to be the means of livelihood for us. Lest they become indolent, we have come to check them off the roll before we go with you.” Smiling, Pilgrim said, “You must be mistaken, Masters. Buddhists and Daoists are all people who have left the family. For what reason are they working for our support? Why are they willing to submit to our roll call?”

The Daoist said, “You have no idea that in the year when we were all praying for rain, the monks bowed to Buddha on one side while the Daoists petitioned the Pole Star on the other, all for the sake of finding some food for the country. The monks, however, were useless, their empty chants of sūtras wholly without efficacy. As soon as our masters arrived on the scene, they summoned the wind and the rain and the bitter affliction was removed from the multitudes. It was then that the court became terribly vexed at the monks, saying that they were completely ineffective and that they deserved to have their monasteries wrecked and their Buddha images destroyed. Their travel rescripts were revoked and they were not permitted to return to their native regions. His Majesty gave them to us instead and they were to serve as bondsmen: they are the ones who tend the fires in our Abbey, who sweep the grounds, and who guard the gates. Since we have some buildings in the rear that are not completely finished, we have ordered these monks here to haul bricks, tiles, and timber for the construction. But for fear of their mischief, indolence, and unwillingness to pull the cart, we have come to investigate and make the roll call.”

When Pilgrim heard that, he tugged at the Daoists as tears rolled from his eyes. “I said that I might not have the good affinity to see your old masters,” he said, “and true enough I don’t.” “Why not?” asked the Daoist.

“This humble Daoist is making a wide tour of the world,” said Pilgrim, “both for the sake of eking out a living and for finding a relative.” “What sort of relative do you have?” asked the Daoist. Pilgrim said, “I have an uncle, who since his youth had left the family and shorn his hair to become a monk. Because of famine some years ago he had to go abroad to beg for alms and hadn’t returned since. As I remembered our ancestral benevolence, I decided that I would make a special effort to find him along the way. It’s very likely, I suppose, that he is detained here and cannot go home. I must find him somehow and get to see him before I can go inside the city with you.” “That’s easy,” said the Daoist. “The two of us can sit here while you go down to the beach to make the roll call for us. There should be five hundred of them on the roll. Take a look and see if your uncle is among them. If he is, we’ll let him go for the sake of the fact that you, too, are a fellow Daoist. Then we’ll go inside the city with you. How about that?”

Pilgrim thanked them profusely, and with a deep bow he took leave of the Daoists. Striking up his wooden fish, he headed down to the beach, passing the double passes as he walked down the narrow path from the steep ridge. All those monks knelt down at once and kowtowed, saying in unison, “Father, we have not been indolent. Not even half a person from the five hundred is missing—we are all here pulling the cart.” Snickering to himself, Pilgrim thought, “These monks must have been awfully abused by the Daoist. They are terrified even when they see a fake Daoist like me. If a real Daoist goes near them, they will probably die of fear.” Waving his hand, Pilgrim said, “Get up, and don’t be afraid! I’m not here to inspect your work, I’m here to find a relative.” When those monks heard that he was looking for a relative, they surrounded him on all sides, every one of them sticking out his head and coughing, hoping that he would be claimed as kin. “Which of us is his relative?” they asked. After he had looked at them for awhile, Pilgrim burst into laughter. “Father,” said the monks, “you don’t seem to have found your relative. Why are you laughing instead?”

Pilgrim said, “You want to know why I’m laughing? I’m laughing at how immature you monks are! It was because of your having been born under an unlucky star that your parents, for fear of your bringing misfortune upon them or for not bringing with you additional brothers and sisters, turned you out of the family and made you priests. How could you then not follow the Three Jewels and not revere the law of Buddha? Why aren’t you reading the sūtras and chanting the litanies? Why do you serve the Daoists and allow them to exploit you as bondsmen and slaves?” “Venerable Father,” said the monks, “are you here to ridicule us? You must have come from abroad, and you have no idea of our plight.” “Indeed I’m from abroad,” said Pilgrim, “and I truly have no idea of what sort of plight you have.”

As they began to weep, the monks said, “The ruler of our country is wicked and partial. All he cares for are those persons like you, Venerable Father, and those whom he hates are us Buddhists.” “Why is that?” asked Pilgrim. “Because the need for wind and rain,” said one of the monks, “caused three immortal elders to come here. They deceived our ruler and persuaded him to tear down our monasteries and revoke our travel rescripts, forbidding us to return to our native regions. He would not, moreover, permit us to serve even in any secular capacity except as slaves in the household of those immortal elders. Our agony is unbearable! If any Daoist mendicant shows up in this region, they would immediately request the king to grant him an audience and a handsome reward; but if a monk appears, regardless of whether he is from nearby or afar, he will be seized and sent to be a servant in the house of the immortals.”

Pilgrim said, “Could it be that those Daoists are truly in possession of some mighty magic, potent enough to seduce the king? If it’s only a matter of summoning the wind and the rain, then it is merely a trivial trick of heterodoxy. How could it sway a ruler’s heart?” The monks said, “They know how to manipulate cinnabar and refine lead, to sit in meditation in order to nourish their spirits. They point to water and it changes into oil; they touch stones and transform them into pieces of gold. Now they are in the process of building a huge abbey for the Three Pure Ones,4 in which they can perform rites to Heaven and Earth and read scriptures night and day, to the end that the king will remain youthful for ten thousand years. Such enterprise undoubtedly pleases the king.”

“So that’s how it is!” said Pilgrim. “Why don’t you all run away and be done with it?” “Father, we can’t!” said the monks. “Those immortal elders have obtained permission from the king to have our portraits painted and hung up in all four quarters of the kingdom. Although the territory of this Cart Slow Kingdom is quite large, there is a picture of monks displayed in the marketplace of every village, town, county, and province. It bears on top the royal inscription that any official who catches a monk will be elevated three grades, and any private citizen who does so will receive a reward of fifty taels of white silver. That’s why we can never escape. Let’s not say monks—but even those who have cut their hair short or are getting bald will find it difficult to get past the officials. They are everywhere, the detectives and the runners! No matter what you do, you simply can’t flee. We have no alternative but to remain here and suffer.”

“In that case,” said Pilgrim, “you might as well give up and die.” “Venerable Father,” said the monks, “many of us have died. There were altogether some two thousand monks caught and brought here: some six or seven hundred of them have perished because they could not bear the suffering and the persecution, or because they could not endure the cold or adjust to the climate. Another seven or eight hundred committed suicide. Only we five hundred failed to die.” “What do you mean by that?” asked Pilgrim. The monks said, “When we tried to hang ourselves, the ropes snapped; when we tried to cut ourselves, the blades were blunt; when we hurled ourselves into the river, we floated back up instead; and when we took poison, nothing happened to us.” Pilgrim said, “You are very lucky! Heaven must be desirous of prolonging your lives!” “The last word is not quite right, Venerable Father,” said the monks, “for surely you mean prolonging our torments! Our daily meals are thin gruel made of the coarsest grains, and at night, we have nowhere to rest but this exposed piece of sandy beach. When we close our eyes, however, there will be deities here to protect us.” “You mean the hard work during the day,” said Pilgrim, “causes you to see ghosts at night.” “Not ghosts,” said the monks, “but the Six Gods of Darkness and the Six Gods of Light, together with the Guardians of Monasteries. When night falls, they will appear to protect us and, in fact, prevent those who want to die from dying.”

Pilgrim said, “These gods are rather unreasonable. They should rather let you die early so that you could reach Heaven at once. Why are they guarding you like that?” The monks said, “They try to comfort us in our dreams, telling us not to seek death but to endure our suffering for awhile until the arrival of the holy monk from the Great Tang in the Land of the East, the arhat who is journeying to the Western Heaven to acquire scriptures. Under him, we are told, there is a disciple who is the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, and who has vast magic powers. He is, moreover, a person of rectitude and kindness, one who will avenge the injustices of the world, assist those who are needy and oppressed, and comfort the orphans and the widows. We are told to wait for his arrival, for he will reveal his power and destroy the Daoists, so that the teaching of Chan and complete poverty will be honored once more.” When Pilgrim heard these words, he said silently to himself, smiling,

“Don’t say old Monkey has no competence,

For gods proclaim early his eminence.”

Turning quickly and striking up again the wooden fish, he left the monks to return to the city gate to meet the Daoists. “Sir,” said the Daoists as they greeted him, “which of them is your relative?” “All five hundred of them are relatives of mine,” said Pilgrim. Laughing, the two Daoists said, “How could you have that many relatives?” “One hundred are neighbors to my left,” said Pilgrim, “and one hundred are neighbors to my right; one hundred belong to my father’s side, and one hundred belong to my mother’s side. Finally, one hundred happen to be my bond-brothers. If you are willing to let these five hundred persons go, I’ll be willing to enter the city with you. If you are not, I won’t go with you.”

The Daoists said, “You must be a little crazy, for all at once you are babbling! These monks happen to be gifts from the king. If we want to release even one or two of them, we will have to go first before our masters to report that they are ill. Then, we have to submit a death certificate before we can consider the matter closed. How could you ask us to release them all? Nonsense! Nonsense! Why, not to speak of the fact that we would be left without servants in our household, but even the court might be offended. The king might send some officials to look into the work here or he himself might come to investigate. How could we dare let them go?” “You won’t release them?” said Pilgrim. “No, we won’t!” said the Daoists. Pilgrim asked them three times and his anger flared up. Whipping out his iron rod from his ear, he squeezed it once in the wind and it had the thickness of a rice bowl. He tested it with his hand before slamming it down on the Daoists’ heads. How pitiful! This one blow made

Their heads crack, their blood squirts, their bodies sink low;

Their skin split, their necks snap, their brains outflow!

Those monks on the beach, when they saw in the distance that he had slain the Daoists, all abandoned the cart and ran toward him, crying, “What disaster! You’ve just killed royal kin.” “What royal kin?” asked Pilgrim. The monks had him completely surrounded, crying, “Their masters would not bow to the king when they walk into court, and when they walk out, they need not take leave of the lord. His Majesty addresses them constantly as Messrs. Preceptors of State, Elder Brothers. How could you come here and cause such a terrible disaster? Their disciples came out to this place to supervise our work and they did not offend you. How could you beat them to death? If those immortal elders claimed that you were here only to supervise our labor and that we were the ones who took their lives, what would happen to us? We must go into the city with you and have you confess your guilt first.” “Stop hollering, all of you,” said Pilgrim, laughing. “I am no mendicant Daoist of the Complete Truth order. I’m here to save you.” “You have murdered two men,” said the monks, “and we are likely to be blamed for it. Look what you have added to our burdens! How could you be our savior?”

Pilgrim said, “I am Pilgrim Sun Wukong, the disciple of the holy monk of the Great Tang. I have come especially to save your lives.” “No! No!” cried the monks. “You can’t be, for we can recognize that venerable father.” “You haven’t even met him,” said Pilgrim, “so how could you recognize him?” The monks said, “We have met in our dreams an old man who identified himself as the Gold Star Venus. He told us over and over again how Pilgrim Sun was supposed to look so that we wouldn’t make a mistake in identifying him.” “What did he tell you?” asked Pilgrim. The monks said, “He said that the Great Sage has

A bumpy brow, and golden eyes flashing;

A round head and a hairy face jowl-less;

Gaping teeth, pointed mouth, a character most sly;

He looks more strange than thunder god.

Using a golden-hooped iron rod,

He once broke Heaven’s gates apart.

He now follows Truth, protecting a monk,

And saves humankind from distress.” 5

When Pilgrim heard these words, he was both pleased and annoyed; pleased, because the gods had spread wide his fame, but also annoyed, because those old rogues, he thought, had revealed to mortals his primal form. He blurted out all at once, “Indeed all of you can see that I am not Pilgrim Sun, but I am a disciple of his, just learning how to cause some trouble for fun! Look over there! Isn’t that Pilgrim Sun who is approaching?” He pointed to the East with his finger and tricked the monks into turning their heads. As they did so, he revealed his true form, which the monks recognized immediately. Every one of them went to his knees, saying, “Father, we are of fleshly eyes and mortal stock, and we failed to know that you appeared to us in transformation. We beg Father to avenge our wrongs and dispel our woes by entering the city quickly and exterminating the demonic ones.” “Follow me,” said Pilgrim, and the monks all followed him closely.

The Great Sage walked to the beach. Exerting his magic power, he yanked the cart through the two passes and up the spine ridge before picking it up and smashing it to pieces. He then tossed all those bricks, tiles, and timber down a ravine. “Go away!” he bellowed to the monks. “Don’t crowd around me. Let me see the king tomorrow and destroy those Daoists.” “O Father!” said those monks. “We dare not go very far away, for we fear that we might be caught by the officials. Then we would be brought back for beatings and for ransom, and there would be no end to our woes.” “In that case,” said Pilgrim, “let me give you some means of protection.”

Dear Great Sage! He plucked a handful of hairs that he chewed into small pieces. To each of the monks he gave a piece with the instruction: “Stick it into the nail of your fourth finger and then make a fist. You can walk as far as you want. Don’t do anything if no one comes to seize you, but if there should be someone trying to arrest you, hold your fist up tightly and cry, ‘Great Sage, Equal to Heaven.’ I will come at once to protect you.” “Father,” said the monks, “if we walk too far away and you can’t see or hear us, what good will it do?” “Relax,” said Pilgrim, “for even if you are ten thousand miles away, I guarantee that nothing will happen to you.”

One of the monks who was somewhat courageous indeed held up his fist and whispered, “Great Sage, Equal to Heaven.” At once a thunder spirit stood in front of him, holding an iron rod. He looked so formidable that not even a thousand cavalry would dare charge near him. Several scores of the monks made the call also, and several scores of Great Sages at once appeared. The monks kowtowed, crying, “Father, truly an efficacious manifestation!” “When you want it to disappear,” said Pilgrim, “all you have to say is the word, ‘Cease.’” They cried, “Cease!” and the hairs appeared again in their nails. The monks were overjoyed and began to disperse. “Don’t go too far away,” said Pilgrim, “but listen for news of me in the city. If a proclamation requesting for monks to return to the city is published, you may then enter the city and give me back my hairs.” Those five hundred monks then scattered in all directions, and we shall speak no more of them for the moment.

We tell you now instead about the Tang Monk by the wayside. While he waited in vain for Pilgrim to come back with a report, he told Zhu Eight Rules to lead the horse forward toward the West. As they proceeded, they met some monks hurrying by, and when they drew near the city, they saw Pilgrim standing there with a dozen or so monks who had not dispersed. Reining in his horse, Tripitaka said, “Wukong, you were sent here to find out about the strange noise. Why did it take you so long and still you didn’t return?” Leading those monks to bow before the Tang Monk’s horse, Pilgrim gave a thorough account of what had happened. Horrified, Tripitaka said, “If this is the situation, what shall we do?” “Please have no fear, Venerable Father,” said those monks. “Father Great Sage Sun is an incarnation of a Heavenly god, and his vast magic powers will no doubt prevent you from coming to any harm. We are priests of the Wisdom Depth Monastery of this city, an edifice built by imperial command of the late king, the father of the present ruler. Since the image of the late king is still inside the monastery, it has not been torn down along with all the other monasteries, big and small, of the city. Let us invite the venerable father to go into the city and rest in our humble dwelling. We are certain that the Great Sage Sun will know what to do by the time of the morning court tomorrow.” “What you say is quite right,” said Pilgrim. “All right! We might as well enter the city first.”

The elder dismounted and went up to the city gate. The sun was setting as they walked across the drawbridge and inside the triple gates. When people on the streets saw that priests from the Wisdom Depth Monastery were toting luggage and leading a horse, they all drew back and avoided them. Before long they reached the entrance of the monastery, where they saw hanging high above the gate a huge plaque on which was written in gold letters: “The Wisdom Depth Monastery, Built by Imperial Command.” Pushing open the gates, the monks led them through the Vairocana Hall. They then opened the door to the main hall; the Tang Monk draped the cassock over his body and prostrated himself before the golden image. Only after he had paid homage to Buddha in this manner did he walk inside the main hall. “Hey, you who are looking after the house!” cried the monks, and an old priest emerged. When he saw Pilgrim, he fell on his knees at once and cried, “Father, have you arrived?” “Who am I?” asked Pilgrim. “Why should you address me and honor me in this manner?” “I recognize you to be the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, the Father Sun,” said the priest. “Every night we dream of you, for the Gold Star Venus frequently appears to us in our dreams, telling us that we can preserve our lives only when you come to us. Today, I can tell immediately that you are the one whom we saw in our dreams. O Father, I’m so glad that you have arrived in time. After one or two more days, we may all become ghosts!” “Please rise! Please rise!” said Pilgrim with laughter. “Tomorrow you will see some results!” The monks all went to prepare for them a vegetarian meal, after which they swept clean the abbot’s residence for the pilgrims to rest.

Pilgrim, however, was so preoccupied that he could not sleep even by the time of the second watch. From somewhere nearby also came the sound of pipes and gongs, and he became so aroused that he rose quietly and slipped on his clothes. He leaped into midair to have a better look and at once discovered that there was the bright glare of lamps and torches due south of him. Lowering his cloud, he peered intently and found that the Daoists of the Three Pure Ones Abbey were making supplications to the stars. He saw

The spiritual realm of a tall chamber;

The blessed place of a magic hall.

The spiritual realm of a tall chamber,

August like the features of Mount Penglai;

The blessed place of a magic hall,

Immaculate like the Palace of Transformed Joy.

Daoists on both sides played their strings and pipes;

Masters at the center held up their tablets of jade.

They expounded the Woe-Dispelling Litany;

They lectured on the Classic of the Way and Virtue.

To raise dust6 a few times they wrote out their charms;

To make the supplication they prostrated themselves.

With spell and water they sent a dispatch

As flames of torches shot up to the Region Above.

They sought and questioned the stars

As fragrant incense rose through the azure sky.

Before the stands were fresh offerings;

On top of tables were victuals sumptuous.

On both sides of the hall’s entrance was hung a pair of yellow silk scrolls on which the following parallel couplet in large characters was embroidered:

For wind and rain in due season,

We invoke the Celestial Worthies’7 boundless power.

As the empire’s peaceful and prosperous,

May our lord’s reign exceed ten thousand years.

There were three old Daoists resplendent in their ritual robes, and Pilgrim thought they had to be the Tiger-Strength, Deer-Strength, and Goat-Strength Immortals. Below them there was a motley crew of some seven or eight hundred Daoists; lined up on opposite sides, they were beating drums and gongs, offering incense, and saying prayers. Secretly pleased, Pilgrim said to himself, “I would like to go down there and fool with them a bit, but as the proverb says,

A silk fiber is no thread;

A single hand cannot clap.

Let me go back and alert Eight Rules and Sha Monk. Then we can return and have some fun.”

Putting his auspicious cloud on a descending path, he headed straight back to the abbot’s hall, where he found Eight Rules and Sha Monk asleep head to foot in one bed. Pilgrim tried to wake Wujing first, and as he stirred, Sha Monk said, “Elder Brother, you aren’t asleep yet?” “Get up now,” said Pilgrim, “for you and I are going to enjoy ourselves.” “In the dead of night,” said Sha Monk, “how could we enjoy ourselves when our mouths are dried and our eyes won’t stay open?” Pilgrim said, “There is indeed in this city an Abbey of the Three Pure Ones. Right now the Daoists in the Abbey are conducting a mass, and their main hall is filled with all kinds of offerings. The buns are big as barrels, and their cakes must weigh fifty or sixty pounds each. There are also countless rice condiments and fresh fruits. Come with me and we’ll go enjoy ourselves!” When Zhu Eight Rules heard in his sleep that there were nice edibles, he immediately woke up, saying, “Elder Brother, aren’t you going to take care of me, too?” “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “if you want to eat, don’t make all these noises and wake up Master. Just follow me.”

The two of them slipped on their clothes and walked quietly out the door. They trod on the cloud with Pilgrim and rose into the air. When Idiot saw the flare of lights, he wanted immediately to go down there had not Pilgrim pulled him back. “Don’t be so impatient,” said Pilgrim. “Wait till they disperse. Then we can go down there.” Eight Rules said, “But obviously they are having such a good time praying. Why would they want to disperse?” “Let me use a little magic,” said Pilgrim, “and they will.”

Dear Great Sage! He made the magic sign with his fingers and recited a spell before he drew in his breath facing the ground toward the southwest. Then he blew it out and at once a violent whirlwind assailed the Three Pure Ones Hall, smashing flower vases and candle stands and tearing up all the ex-votos hanging on the four walls. As lights and torches were all blown out, the Daoists became terrified. Tiger-Strength Immortal said, “Disciples, let’s disperse. Since this divine wind has extinguished all our lamps, torches, and incense, each of us should retire. We can rise earlier tomorrow morning to recite a few more scrolls of scriptures and make up for what we miss tonight.” The various Daoists indeed retired.

Our Pilgrim, leading Eight Rules and Sha Monk, lowered their clouds and dashed up to the Three Pure Ones Hall. Without bothering to find out whether it was raw or cooked, Idiot grabbed one of the cakes and gave it a fierce bite. Pilgrim whipped out the iron rod and tried to give his hand a whack. Hastily withdrawing his hand to dodge the blow, Eight Rules said, “I haven’t even found out the taste yet, and you’re trying to hit me already?” “Don’t be so rude,” said Pilgrim. “Let’s sit down with proper manners and then we may treat ourselves.” “Aren’t you embarrassed?” asked Eight Rules. “You are stealing food, you know, and you still want proper manners! If you were invited here, what would you do then?”

Pilgrim said, “Who are these bodhisattvas sitting up there?” “What do you mean by who are these bodhisattvas?” chuckled Eight Rules. “Can’t you recognize the Three Pure Ones?” “Which Three Pure Ones?” asked Pilgrim. “The one in the middle,” said Eight Rules, “is the Celestial Worthy of Commencement; the one on the left is the Daoist Lord of Numinous Treasures; and the one on the right is the Most High Aged Lord, Laozi.” Pilgrim said, “We have to take on their appearances. Only then can we eat safely and comfortably.” When he caught hold of the delicious fragrance coming from the offerings, Idiot could wait no longer. Climbing up onto the tall platform, he gave the figure of Laozi a shove with his snout and pushed it to the floor, saying, “Old fellow, you have sat here long enough! Now let old Hog take your place for awhile!” So Eight Rules changed himself into Laozi, while Pilgrim took on the appearance of the Celestial Worthy of Commencement and Sha Monk became the Daoist Lord of Numinous Treasures. All the original images were pushed down to the floor. The moment they sat down, Eight Rules began to gorge himself with the huge buns. “Could you wait one moment?” said Pilgrim. “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “we have changed into their forms. Why wait any longer?”

“Brother,” said Pilgrim, “it’s a small thing to eat, but giving ourselves away is no small matter! These holy images we pushed on the floor could be found by those Daoists who had to rise early to strike the bell or sweep the grounds. If they stumbled over them, wouldn’t our secret be revealed? Why don’t you see if you can hide them somewhere?” Eight Rules said, “This is an unfamiliar place, and I don’t even know where to begin to look for a hiding spot.” “Just now when we entered the hall,” Pilgrim said, “I chanced to notice a little door on our right. Judging from the foul stench coming through it, I think it must be a Bureau of Five-Grain Transmigration. Send them in there.”

Idiot, in truth, was rather good at crude labor! He leaped down, threw the three images over his shoulder, and carried them out of the hall. When he kicked open the door, he found a huge privy inside. Chuckling to himself he said, “This BanHorsePlague truly has a way with words! He even bestows on a privy a sacred title! The Bureau of Five-Grain Transmigration, what a name!” Still hauling the images on his shoulders, Idiot began to mumble this prayer to them:

“O Pure Ones Three,

I’ll confide in thee:

From afar we came,

Staunch foes of bogies.

We’d like a treat,

But nowhere’s cozy.

We borrow your seats

For awhile only.

You’ve sat too long,

Now join the privy.

In times past you’ve enjoyed countless good things

By being pure and clean Daoists.

Today you can’t avoid facing something dirty

When you become Celestial Worthies Most Smelly!”

After he had made his supplication, he threw them inside with a splash and half of his robe was soiled by the muck. As he walked back into the hall, Pilgrim said, “Did you hide them well?” “Well enough,” said Eight Rules, “but some of the filth stained my robe. It still stinks. I hope it won’t make you retch.” “Never mind,” said Pilgrim, laughing, “you just come and enjoy yourself. I wonder if we could all make a clean getaway!” After Idiot changed back into the form of Laozi, the three of them took their seats and abandoned themselves to enjoyment. They ate the huge buns fist; then they gobbled down the side dishes, the rice condiments, the dumplings, the baked goods, the cakes, the deep-fried dishes, and the steamed pastries—regardless of whether these were hot or cold. Pilgrim Sun, however, was not too fond of anything cooked; all he had were a few pieces of fruit, just to keep the other two company. Meanwhile Eight Rules and Sha Monk went after the offerings like comets chasing the moon, like wind mopping up the clouds! In no time at all, the food was completely devoured. When there was nothing left for them to eat, instead of leaving, they remained seated there to chat and wait for the food to digest.

Alas! This was what had to happen! There was, you see, in the east corridor a young Daoist, who, just when he had lain down, scrambled up again all at once when he thought to himself, “I left my handbell in the hall. If I lost it, the masters would rebuke me tomorrow.” He said to his companion, “You sleep first. I’ve got to go find something.” Without even putting on his undergarments, he threw a shirt on himself and went to the main hall to search for his bell. Groping this way and that in the darkness, he finally found it. As he was turning to leave, he suddenly heard sounds of breathing. Terribly frightened, the Daoist began to rush out of the hall, and as he did so, he stepped on a lychee seed, which sent him crashing to the floor and the bell was smashed to pieces. Unable to restrain himself, Zhu Eight Rules burst into roars of laughter, frightening the little Daoist out of his wits. He scrambled up only to fall down once more; stumbling all over, he managed to reach the master residence.

“Grand-Masters,” he screamed as he pounded on the door, “It’s terrible! Disaster!” The three old Daoists had not yet fallen asleep. They opened the door to ask, “What disaster?” Trembling all over, the young Daoist said, “Your disciple left behind his handbell, and he went to the main hall to search for it. I heard someone roaring with laughter, and it almost frightened me to death.” When the old Daoists heard these words, they cried, “Bring some light. Let’s see what kind of perverse creature is around.” The Daoists sleeping along the two corridors, old and young, were all aroused, and they at once scrambled up to the main hall with lamps and torches. We do not know what was the result; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.