Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Someone asked of the Zen gate: many have sought and inquired, yet often they arrive at the end, merely aged in vain. Grinding a brick to make a mirror, piling up snow for grain—how many youths have been thus deluded? A hair swallows the great sea, a mustard seed houses Mount Sumeru, the Golden-head Tathāgata smiles with understanding. Upon enlightenment, one transcends the ten stages and three vehicles; yet those who remain stuck are trapped in the four births and six paths. Who hears, before the cliff of severed thoughts, beneath the tree without shade, the single cry of the cuckoo at spring dawn? The road to Caoqi is perilous, the clouds over Vulture Peak are deep—here, the voice of old friends is far away. A thousand-zhang ice cliff, five-petaled lotus blooming, incense curls beneath the ancient temple's hanging curtain. At that moment, having penetrated the source and flow, one will behold the Dragon King's Three Treasures.

This lyric is titled "Su Wu Man." Now, speaking of the Tathāgata Buddha, he took leave of the Jade Emperor and returned to the Thunder Monastery Treasure Vihāra. He saw the three thousand Buddhas, five hundred arhats, eight great vajra warriors, and boundless bodhisattvas, each bearing banners, jeweled canopies, and rare celestial flowers, arrayed beneath the twin śāla trees at the sacred mountain paradise to welcome him. The Tathāgata rested upon auspicious clouds and addressed the assembly: "With profound prajñā, I have surveyed the three realms. The fundamental nature and original source are ultimately tranquil and extinguished. They are identical to the nature of empty space—utterly without existence. The subduing of the rebellious monkey is something beyond comprehension. This is the beginning of birth and death; the dharma-mark is thus." Having spoken, he emitted the light of his śarīra, filling the sky with forty-two white rainbows stretching north to south. The great assembly beheld this and bowed in homage. Shortly thereafter, auspicious clouds and colorful mists gathered, and he ascended to the highest-grade lotus throne and sat in perfect stillness. The three thousand Buddhas, five hundred arhats, eight vajra warriors, and four bodhisattvas pressed their palms together and approached to pay their respects, then asked: "What of the one who caused havoc in the Heavenly Palace and disturbed the Peach Banquet?" The Tathāgata replied: "That fellow is a demon monkey born on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits. His sins are too vast to be described. None of the celestial generals and warriors could subdue him; though Erlang captured him and Lord Lao refined him in his furnace, neither could harm him. When I arrived, he was in the midst of the thunder generals, displaying his might and flaunting his spirit. I halted the weapons and asked his origins. He claimed to possess supernatural powers, the ability to transform, and a somersault cloud that carried him one hundred and eight thousand miles in a single leap. I made a wager with him—he could not escape my hand—yet I seized him, pointed my finger to transform into the Five Phases Mountain, and sealed and imprisoned him there. The Jade Emperor threw open the golden palace and jade halls, invited me to the seat of honor, and held the Assembly of Pacifying Heaven to thank me. Only then did I take my leave and return." The assembly heard these words with joy and praised him to the highest degree.

After the thanksgiving, each returned to their stations and duties, sharing in the bliss of celestial truth. Indeed:

Auspicious mists fill the Indian sky, rainbow light enfolds the World-Honored One. The West is called foremost, the dharma-king's gate without form. Often seen: dark apes offering fruits, deer bearing flowers; green phoenixes dancing, colorful simbangs singing; sacred turtles presenting longevity, immortal cranes holding magic mushrooms. In peaceful enjoyment of the pure land Jetavana, receiving the use of the dragon palace's dharma realm. Daily the flowers bloom, constantly the fruits ripen. Practicing stillness, returning to truth, meditating to achieve the proper fruit. Neither ceasing nor arising, neither increasing nor decreasing. Misty radiance drifts freely to and fro, neither cold nor heat intrudes, and years are unrecorded.

A poem says:

Coming and going, at ease in freedom and wandering,

Without terror, without sorrow.

In the land of ultimate bliss, all is open and vast;

In the great thousand worlds, there is no spring or autumn.

The Buddha dwelt in the Great Thunder Monastery Treasure Vihāra at Spirit Mountain. One day, he summoned the assembly of Buddhas, arhats, gatyas, bodhisattvas, vajra warriors, bhikṣus and bhikṣuṇīs, and said: "Since the subduing of the rebellious monkey and the pacifying of heaven, I have known not the passage of time here; I reckon some five hundred years have passed in the mortal world. Now it is the mid-autumn full moon, and I possess a jeweled basin containing a hundred varieties of rare flowers and a thousand kinds of extraordinary fruits. Shall I share this Ullambana feast with you?" The entire assembly pressed their palms together, bowed to the Buddha three times, and accepted. The Tathāgata then had Ānanda hold the basin of fruits and flowers and had Kāśyapa distribute them. The assembly expressed gratitude, each offering verses of thanks.

The Blessing verse said:

The star of blessing shines before the World-Honored One,

Blessings received are deep and ever more enduring.

Boundless blessing endures as long as the earth,

Fortunate blessings connect with the heavens.

The field of blessing is widely sown, flourishing year by year,

The sea of blessing is vast and mighty, firm with each passing year.

Blessings fill the universe with abundant grace,

Blessings increase without measure, forever complete.

The Prosperity verse said:

Prosperity heavy as mountains, the colorful simbang sings,

Prosperity follows the times, celebrating eternal light.

Prosperity added by ten thousand measures brings health,

Prosperity enjoyed by a thousand measures brings peace to the age.

Prosperity's salary matches heaven, enduring forever,

Prosperity's name is clear as the sea.

Prosperity's grace extends far, much gazed upon,

Prosperity's rank is boundless, bringing glory to all nations.

The Longevity verse said:

The star of longevity offers splendor to the Tathāgata,

The realm of longevity's radiance opens from this moment.

Longevity fruits fill the tray, generating auspicious mists,

Longevity flowers, freshly picked, are placed upon the lotus throne.

Longevity verses are pure and wondrous,

Longevity melodies are tuned by gifted hands.

Lifespan is lengthened, equal to sun and moon,

Longevity like mountains and seas, ever more serene.

When the bodhisattvas had finished their offerings, they asked the Tathāgata to clearly reveal the fundamental source and point out the stream of its flow. The Tathāgata then opened his compassionate lips, expounding the great dharma and proclaiming the true fruit, teaching the sublime scriptures of the three vehicles and the Śūraṅgama of the five skandhas. He saw heavenly dragons surrounding him and flowers falling like rain. Indeed:

The meditative mind shines bright as the moon over a thousand rivers,

The true nature is clear and pure, encompassing the sky of ten thousand miles.

The Tathāgata finished his discourse and addressed the assembly, saying: "I have observed the four great continents, and the good and evil among living beings differ from place to place. In the Eastern Continent of Superior Gods, they revere Heaven and honor the earth, their hearts pure and their breath calm. In the Northern Continent of Kuru, though they are fond of killing, it is only to sustain their lives; they are simple in nature, dull in passion, and do little harm. Here in our Western Continent of Aparagodānīya, there is no greed or killing; they cultivate their vital essence and nurture their inner spirit. Though no supreme sages dwell there, everyone enjoys a long life. But that Southern Continent of Jambudvīpa—there, lust and pleasure breed disaster, killing and strife abound. It is truly what is called a battlefield of sharp tongues, a sea of wickedness and strife. I now hold the True Scriptures in Three Collections, which can persuade people to do good."

Upon hearing these words, all the bodhisattvas pressed their palms together and took refuge, then asked before the Buddha's seat: "What are these True Scriptures in Three Collections that the Tathāgata speaks of?"

The Tathāgata said: "I have the Collection of Dharma, which discourses on Heaven; the Collection of Discourses, which speaks of Earth; and the Collection of Sūtras, which delivers the dead. The Three Collections comprise in all thirty-five divisions, bound in fifteen thousand one hundred and forty-four scrolls. They are the scriptures for cultivating what is real and the gateway to what is upright and good. I had intended to send them to the Eastern Land, but the living beings there are foolish and ignorant—they slander the true words and fail to understand the essential purpose of my Dharma; they show no respect for the orthodox teaching of Yoga. How can I find one with great dharmic power to go to the Eastern Land and seek a faithful man of virtue? Let him cross a thousand mountains in bitter hardship and inquire across ten thousand waters, coming to my abode to obtain the True Scriptures, that they may be transmitted forever to the Eastern Land and bring conversion to all living beings. This would indeed be a blessing as vast as a mountain and a rejoicing as deep as the sea. Who among you is willing to go on this mission?"

Thereupon the Bodhisattva Guanyin advanced before the lotus throne and bowed to the Buddha three times, saying: "Your disciple is untalented, but I am willing to go to the Eastern Land to seek a scripture pilgrim."

All the assembly looked up and beheld the bodhisattattva:

Her principle was perfected in the four virtues; her wisdom filled her golden body. Jeweled necklaces hung with pearls and kingfisher feathers; fragrant rings were knotted with precious ornaments. Her cloud-black hair was artfully coiled in a dragon-coiled bun; embroidered sashes floated lightly with colorful phoenix plumes. Her gown was of plain silk with a jade-green clasp, enveloped in auspicious light; her skirt was of brocade and velvet, golden tassels and sashes, wreathed in propitious radiance. Her brows were like slender moons; her eyes like twin stars. Her jade face bore a natural joy; her vermilion lips were a single spot of red. The sweet dew in her purification vase flourished year after year; the willows she planted grew green year after year. She resolved the eight difficulties and delivered the multitude of living beings—great was her compassion! Therefore she dwelt upon Mount Tai and abode in the South Sea, rescuing the suffering and answering all who called; ten thousand called and ten thousand responded, a thousand sages and a thousand spirits. Her orchid heart delighted in purple bamboo; her cassia nature loved fragrant vines. She was the Lord of Compassion on Mount Luóqié, the Living Guanyin of the Cave of Tidal Sound.

The Tathāgata saw her and was greatly pleased in his heart, saying: "None other could go—it must be the Venerable Guanyin, whose spiritual powers are vast and great, who is fit for this task."

The bodhisattva said: "Your disciple goes to the Eastern Land—do you have any instructions to give?"

The Tathāgata said: "On this journey, you must survey the road as you go; you are not to travel among the clouds of the heavens. You must go half in cloud and half in mist, observing the mountains and rivers as you pass, carefully noting the distances of the road, and give careful instructions to the scripture pilgrim. But I fear the man of virtue may find the journey difficult, so I shall give you five precious things."

He then ordered Ānanda and Kāśyapa to bring out a kasāya robe brocade-embroidered and a nine-ringed tinstaff, and said to the bodhisattva: "This robe and this staff are for the scripture pilgrim's own use. If he is willing to come here with an unwavering heart, let him wear my robe and he shall avoid falling into the cycle of rebirth; let him carry my staff and he shall suffer no harm from poison or malice."

The bodhisattva took refuge and bowed to receive them.

The Tathāgata then produced three fillet rings and handed them to the bodhisattva, saying: "These treasures are called the Tightening Fillets. Though they are three of the same kind, each is used differently. I have three mantras—the Golden, the Tightening, and the Banning. If on the road you encounter demons and monsters of great spiritual power, you must persuade them to mend their ways and become disciples of the scripture pilgrim. If they refuse to submit to command, you may place this fillet upon their heads; it will naturally take root in the flesh. Then recite the corresponding mantra—their eyes will swell, their heads will ache, and their skulls will split, and you will surely bring them into my fold."

When the bodhisattva heard these words, she joyfully bowed and withdrew. She then called the attendant Huian to accompany her. Huian carried an iron staff weighing a thousand catties, and served beside the bodhisattva as a mighty warrior who subdued demons. The bodhisattva then wrapped the brocade-embroidered kasāya in a bundle and bade him carry it on his back. She hid the golden fillets, took the tinstaff in hand, and descended directly from Mount Ling. This journey would bring about it:

The Buddha's son returns to fulfill his original vow; the Elder Golden Cicada wraps himself in sandalwood.

When the bodhisattva reached the foot of the mountain, the Golden Peak Immortal of the Jade True Monastery met her at the gate of his monastery and invited her to take tea. The bodhisattva dared not linger long and said: "I have received the Tathāgata's command and am going to the Eastern Land to seek a scripture pilgrim."

The immortal asked: "When will the scripture pilgrim arrive?"

The bodhisattva said: "It is not yet settled—roughly in two or three years, he may reach this place."

She then took leave of the immortal and went her way half in cloud and half in mist, noting the distances of the road. A poem testifies to this:

She seeks him for ten thousand leagues without speaking of it,

Yet says who can fully grasp the meaning of intent?

If seeking another is suddenly like this,

Was my life's journey not also by chance?

Transmitting the Way with method becomes false speech;

Explaining without faith is also empty transmission.

I will pour out my heart and liver to find one who knows me—

I reckon ahead there must be a karmic bond.

As master and disciple were walking along, they suddenly came upon a weak water three thousand leagues wide—this was the boundary of the Flowing Sand River.

The bodhisattva said: "Disciple, this is a difficult passage. The scripture pilgrim is a mortal of bones of dust—how can he cross it?"

Huian said: "Master, how wide do you think the river is?"

The bodhisattva halted her cloud-step and looked. She saw:

It stretched east to the sandy wastes, west to the various foreign lands, south to Wuge, and north to the Tartars. Its course ran eight hundred leagues across, and from top to bottom it was ten thousand leagues distant. The water surged as though the earth were turning over; the waves rolled as though mountains were raising their backs. Vast and mighty, boundless and shoreless—from ten leagues away one could hear waves ten thousand feet high. Immortal rafts could scarcely reach here; lotus leaves could not float. Withered grasses by the winding marsh in the slanting sunset; yellow clouds cast their shadows darkening the long dike. Where were merchants coming and going? Where were fishermen dwelling and resting? On the level sands no wild geese alighted; on the distant shore the apes cried. Only the red smartweed flowers knew the scenery; the white dock's fine fragrance lingered at its ease.

As the bodhisattva was observing this, there came a sudden splashing sound from the river, and out of the waves leaped a demon and monster, exceedingly hideous. He was born:

His face was neither green nor black, but a sullen, ashen hue; his body neither tall nor short, barefoot and sinewy. His eyes flickered and gleamed like a pair of lamps at the bottom of a stove; his mouth spread wide like a butcher's brazier. His fangs jutted out like sword blades, and his red hair was a wild tangled mass. When he roared, his cry thundered like a clap of thunder; when he ran, his feet whirled like a rolling gale.

That monster, clutching a precious staff in his hand, strode ashore to seize the Bodhisattva. But Hui'an blocked him with his iron mace and bellowed, "Hold your ground!" The monster raised his precious staff to meet him. The two clashed in a fearsome battle on the banks of the River of Flowing Sands—truly a sight to make one's hair stand on end:

Hui'an's iron mace—the guardian dharma-spirit displaying his divine might; the monster's demon-subduing staff—striving to prove himself a hero. Twin silver serpents danced along the riverbank; a pair of divine monks charged upon the shore. One wielded his power over the Flowing Sands, exerting all his skill; the other strove to protect Guanyin, to win great merit. One churned the waves and leaped through the billows; the other spat mist and blew gales. The churning of waves and leaping through billows darkened the heavens and earth; the spitting of mist and blowing of gales dimmed the sun and moon. That demon-subduing staff was like a white tiger emerging from the mountain; this iron mace was like a yellow dragon lying across the road. One thrust forward, seeking out snakes and parting the grass; the other swept aside, striking at hawks and splitting the pines. They fought until the sky grew dark and hazy, the stars shining bright; until mist billowed and swirled, heaven and earth blurred together. The one had long dwelt in the Weak Water, and none was fiercer; the other had newly left Mount Ling, winning his first great deed.

Back and forth they came, fighting dozens of bouts with neither gaining the upper hand. The monster parried the iron mace and demanded, "What monk are you, that dares stand against me?" Hui'an replied, "I am Mu Na, the second prince of the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King, the Pilgrim Hui'an. I am now escorting my master eastward to the land of the Great Tang to find the scripture-seeker. What demon are you, to block our road so boldly?" Only then did the monster realize who he faced. "I remember you—you trained with the Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea in the Purple Bamboo Grove. Why have you come here?" Hui'an said, "Is not that my master on the shore?"

At these words, the monster stammered his apologies, lowered his precious staff, and allowed Hui'an to seize him and bring him before Guanyin. He bowed his head to the ground and said, "Bodhisattva, forgive my crime and let me explain: I am no demon. I was the Curtain-Lifting General who served in the Hall of the Divine Firmament. At the Peach Banquet I accidentally shattered a crystal cup. The Jade Emperor sentenced me to eight hundred blows and banished me to the mortal world, where I was transformed into this hideous form. Moreover, once every seven days a flying sword is sent to pierce my chest and ribs over a hundred times before it returns. That is why I suffer so. Driven by hunger and cold, every two or three days I rise from the waves to find a traveler to eat. I never expected today, in my ignorance, to offend the Great Merciful Bodhisattva." The Bodhisattva said, "You were guilty in Heaven and were banished for it. Now you go on taking life—truly, one crime piled upon another. I have received the Buddha's decree to go east to the land of the Great Tang to find a scripture-seeker. Why not enter my fold, embrace the good fruit of conversion, and become a disciple to that scripture-seeker, to journey west to worship the Buddha and obtain the scriptures? I will see to it that the flying sword no longer pierces you. When your merit is accomplished, your crime will be pardoned and your former office restored. What do you say?" The monster said, "I am willing to embrace the true fruit." Then he added, "Bodhisattva, I have eaten countless people here. Several times in the past scripture-seekers came, and I devoured them all. The heads I ate I threw into the Flowing Sands, and they sank to the bottom. In this water, even a feather cannot float. But the skulls of nine scripture-seekers floated on the surface and would not sink. I thought them strange and strung them together on a cord, to amuse myself with from time to time. But if the scripture-seeker fails to reach this place, will I not have ruined my own prospects?" The Bodhisattva said, "How could he fail to come? Hang the skulls around your neck and wait for the scripture-seeker—they will serve a purpose." The monster said, "In that case, I accept your teaching." The Bodhisattva then touched his head and administered the precepts. She took "sha"—sand—as his surname, and he became Sha; she gave him the dharma name Wujing. He entered the Buddhist order forthwith, escorted the Bodhisattva across the river, and thereupon cleansed his heart and purged his thoughts. He harmed no living creature ever again, but waited solely for the scripture-seeker.

The Bodhisattva took leave of him and, together with Hui'an, pressed on toward the land of the Great Tang. After traveling a long way, they came upon another tall mountain, wreathed in a baleful miasma that prevented them from climbing it. Just as they were about to soar over it on a cloud, a wild wind sprang up and another demon appeared before them. He was a fearsome sight indeed:

A filthy lotus-leaf tangled snout, ears like palm-leaf fans revealing golden eyes. Fangs sharp as steel files, a long mouth opened wide like a brazier. A golden helmet bound tight beneath the chin, armor laced with silken cords of python-scaled leather. In his hand a rake like a dragon's claw reaching forth; at his waist a curved bow like a half-moon. His awesome presence overawed the Grand Duke of the Year; his soaring spirit pressed down even the gods of Heaven.

He charged straight at them without the slightest hesitation and swung his spiked rake at the Bodhisattva. The Pilgrim Hui'an blocked him and roared, "You wretched monster, have some respect—look at my mace!" The demon retorted, "This monk doesn't know when he's beaten. Take my rake!" The two clashed and crashed together at the foot of the mountain, locked in a contest of strength—and what a battle it was:

The demon was ferocious; Hui'an was mighty. The iron mace struck at the heart; the spiked rake came at the face. They kicked up earth and dust, darkening heaven and earth; they sent sand and stones flying, startling gods and ghosts. The nine-toothed rake gleamed and shone, its twin rings ringing bright; the single mace was dark and heavy, whirled in both hands. One was a heavenly prince; the other was a marshal's spirit. One served as a guardian dharma-spirit on Mount Putuo; the other was a demon in a mountain cave. This meeting of theirs, contending for mastery—who would win and who would lose, none could tell.

The two of them were fighting at the height of their engagement when Guanyin tossed down a lotus flower from midair, separating the rake and the staff. The monster was alarmed at the sight and demanded, "What manner of monk are you, that you dare play such tricks before my eyes to deceive me?" Muzha replied, "You blind, mortal-eyed wretch! I am the disciple of the Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea. This lotus my master has tossed down—you don't even recognize it!" The monster asked, "The Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea—do you mean Guanyin, who sweeps away the three calamities and rescues from the eight difficulties?" Muzha said, "Who else could it be?" The monster cast aside his spiked rake and bowed his head in homage. "Elder brother, where is the Bodhisattva? I trouble you to introduce me." Muzha pointed upward and said, "Is that not she?" The monster kowtowed toward the sky and cried out in a loud voice, "Bodhisattva! Forgive me, forgive me!"

Guanyin descended on her cloud and came forward to question him: "What wild boar spirit are you, what old swine that dares to block my way?" The monster replied, "I am no wild boar, nor any old swine. I was originally the Marshal Tianpeng in the Heavenly River. Because I was drunk and made advances to Chang'e, the Jade Emperor struck me with two thousand hammer blows and banished me to the mortal world. My one true spirit came to seize a womb for rebirth, but by misfortune I took the wrong path and was born into a sow's womb, taking this form. I bit the sow to death and slew the other piglings, then occupied this mountain stronghold, living by eating men. I did not expect to encounter you, Bodhisattva. I beg you to save me, to save me!" The Bodhisattva asked, "What is this mountain called?" The monster said, "It is called Fuling Mountain. On the mountain there is a cave called Cloudy Portal Cave. In the cave there was originally a woman named Sister Luan'er. Seeing that I had some martial skill, she took me as her husband—what they call an 'upside-down door' marriage. Before a year had passed, she died, and all the possessions of the cave became mine to use. I have been here for many years and long months, but have had no means of sustenance except eating people to survive. I beg the Bodhisattva's forgiveness." The Bodhisattva said, "The ancients said, 'If you would have a future, do nothing without a future.' You broke the laws of the Upper Realm, and now you still harbor no change of heart, harming living beings and creating evil karma—will you not be punished for two offenses?" The monster said, "Future, future—if I follow your advice, you'd have me drink the wind! As the saying goes, 'Follow the official law and be beaten to death; follow the Buddhist law and starve to death.' Away with it, away with it! I'd better catch some traveler, eat his fat flesh, and to hell with two offenses, three offenses, a thousand offenses, ten thousand offenses!" The Bodhisattva said, "'When a person makes a good vow, Heaven will surely grant it.' If you are willing to take refuge in the proper fruit, there will naturally be a place for you to sustain your body. The world has the five grains that can satisfy hunger—why must you eat people to survive?"

Upon hearing these words, the monster seemed to wake from a dream. He said to the Bodhisattva, "I wish to follow the proper path, but alas, 'I have offended against Heaven—there is nowhere to pray.'" The Bodhisattva said, "I have received the Buddha's decree to go to the Eastern Land to find a scripture pilgrim. You may follow him as a disciple, journey to the Western Heaven, and through merit atone for your sins. I guarantee you will be freed from calamity." The monster said readily, "I will follow, I will follow." The Bodhisattva then placed her hand on his head and administered the precepts. She used his body to designate his surname—so his surname was Zhu. She gave him a dharma name, and he was called Zhu Wuneng. Thereupon he accepted the command and returned to the true path, kept the fast and adhered to a vegetarian diet, cut off the five pungent meats and the three abominations, and waited devotedly for the scripture pilgrim to arrive.

The Bodhisattva then took leave of Muzha and Wuneng and departed, rising halfway into the clouds. As they were traveling, they saw a jade dragon crying out in the sky. The Bodhisattva approached and asked, "What dragon are you, suffering punishment here?" The dragon said, "I am the son of Ao Run, Dragon King of the Western Sea. Because I set fire and burned a pearl in the palace, my father reported me to the Heavenly Court for filial impiety. The Jade Emperor has hung me in the sky, struck me three hundred times, and I am to be executed before long. I beg you to save me, to save me."

When Guanyin heard this, she went with Muzha to the Southern Heavenly Gate, where the two Heavenly Masters Qiu and Zhang were already waiting to receive her. They asked, "Where are you going?" The Bodhisattva said, "This poor monk wishes to have an audience with the Jade Emperor." The two Heavenly Masters quickly reported this to the throne. The Jade Emperor then descended from his hall to welcome her. The Bodhisattva came forward and, having completed her obeisance, said, "This poor monk has received the Buddha's decree to go to the Eastern Land to find a scripture pilgrim. On the way I encountered a guilty dragon hanging in punishment. I have come to petition for his life. Grant him to this poor monk, so that he may serve the scripture pilgrim as a beast of burden." Upon hearing this, the Jade Emperor immediately issued an edict of pardon, dispatched a heavenly general to release him, and gave him to the Bodhisattva. The Bodhisattva thanked the favor and departed. The young dragon kowtowed in gratitude for the gift of his life and submitted to the Bodhisattva's service. The Bodhisattva placed him in a deep ravine, there to wait for the scripture pilgrim's arrival, when he would be transformed into a white horse and go to the West to earn merit. The young dragon accepted the command and hid himself, and we speak of him no more.

The Bodhisattva led the way with Muzha past this mountain and continued toward the Eastern Land. Before they had traveled long, they suddenly saw ten thousand rays of golden light and a thousand streaks of auspicious vapor. Muzha said, "Master, where that light shines is the Five Phases Mountain. I can see the Buddha's suppression tablet is there." The Bodhisattva said, "This is none other than the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, who disrupted the Peach Banquet and caused havoc in the Heavenly Palace. He is imprisoned there now." Muzha said, "Yes, indeed." Master and disciple both ascended the mountain to look at the tablet, upon which were inscribed the six-syllable mantra: "Om Mani Padme Hum." When the Bodhisattva had read it, she sighed deeply and composed a poem. The poem read:

Alas, the demon monkey who would not serve!

In those days he was wild and strayed, playing the hero.

With a defiant heart he threw the Peast Banquet into chaos,

And with bold presumption invaded the Palace of Longevity.

Among a hundred thousand troops he had no match;

Above the ninefold heavens his prestige was renowned.

Since he was trapped by our Buddha, the Tathagata,

When will he stretch free and display his merit again?

While master and disciple were talking, they had already alarmed the Great Sage. From beneath the roots of the mountain he cried out in a loud voice: "Who is that up on the mountain reciting poems and exposing my shortcomings?" When the Bodhisattva heard this, she went straight down the mountain to look. Below the stone cliff she found the local god, the mountain god, and the heavenly general who guarded the Great Sage, all of whom came to pay their respects and escort the Bodhisattva before the Great Sage. On seeing him, she found that he was pressed inside a stone box—he could speak with his mouth but could not move his body. The Bodhisattva said, "You of the Sun clan, do you recognize me?" The Great Sage opened his fiery eyes and golden pupils, nodded his head, and cried out loudly: "How could I not recognize you? You are none other than the Merciful and Compassionate, the Savior from Suffering and Disaster, the Great Merciful One, Homage to Guanshiyin Bodhisattva of Mount Putuo in the Southern Sea. Thank you for your care, thank you for your care! I pass my days here as if they were years, and not a single soul who knows me has come to visit me. Where have you come from?" The Bodhisattva said, "I have been sent by the Buddha on a mission eastward to find a scripture pilgrim. Passing by this way, I made a special detour to see you." The Great Sage said: "The Tathagata deceived me and pressed me beneath this mountain. It has been over five hundred years, and I cannot free myself. I beg you, Bodhisattva, show me some mercy and save old Sun!" The Bodhisattva said: "Your sins are far too deep. If I were to free you, I fear you would only cause more harm—that would not be good." The Great Sage said: "I have already repented. I only hope that in your great compassion you will point me the way—I am willing to cultivate practice." And so it is said:

When the human heart gives rise to a single thought,

Heaven and Earth both know it.

If good and evil go unrewarded,

Then Heaven and Moon must be partial.

When the Bodhisattva heard these words, her heart was filled with joy. She said to the Great Sage: "The scriptures say: 'If one speaks good words, those a thousand miles away will respond; if one speaks evil words, those a thousand miles away will defy you.' Since you have this intention, when I arrive in the Great Tang kingdom of the East I will seek out a scripture pilgrim and have him rescue you. You may follow him as a disciple, uphold the precepts, enter the gate of our Buddha, and cultivate to attain the true fruit once more. What do you say?" The Great Sage cried out again and again: "I am willing, I am willing!" The Bodhisattva said: "Since you have this good intention, I will give you a Dharma name." The Great Sage said: "I already have a name—Sun Wukong." The Bodhisattva, pleased, said: "Earlier, two others who submitted to me also belong to the 'Wu' generation. Now you too are of the 'Wu' generation—how fitting, how fitting! There is no need for further instructions. I shall take my leave." Thus the Great Sage, his nature illuminated and his heart awakened, returned to the Buddhist faith, while the Bodhisattva, her thoughts lingering, set out in search of the holy monk.

She and Muzha departed from this place and traveled straight eastward. In no time at all they arrived at Chang'an, the Great Tang kingdom. Putting away the mist and gathering the clouds, master and disciple transformed themselves into two scabby wandering monks and entered the city of Chang'an. Before they knew it, evening had fallen. They walked to a bustling thoroughfare where they found a temple shrine to the local god, and the two of them went straight inside. The local god was terrified, the ghost soldiers trembled in fear—they knew it was the Bodhisattva and kowtowed to welcome her. The local god then rushed to report to the City God and the Soil Gods, as well as all the deities of every temple in Chang'an. They all knew it was the Bodhisattva and came to pay their respects, saying: "Bodhisattva, forgive us all for the crime of being late to receive you." The Bodhisattva said: "You must not leak a single word of this. I have been sent by the Buddha on a special mission to seek a scripture pilgrim here. I will borrow your temple to stay for a few days; when I have found the true monk, I will return." The deities each returned to their own abodes, and the local god was driven out to lodge temporarily at the City God's temple. The master and disciple then concealed their true forms.

As to who this scripture pilgrim will turn out to be, listen to the next chapter for the explanation.