Wu Cheng-en - Journey to the West (vol. 1)

“You may think that you've had an easy journey,” said Pig, “but you don't give a damn about other people being tired. Ever since we crossed the Flowing Sands River we've been going over mountain ranges, and this heavy load has fairly worn me out. We've got to find a house where we can beg some tea and food and have a good rest-it's only fair.”

“It sounds to me, idiot, as though you're having regrets,” said Monkey. “I'm afraid you can't have such an easy life now as you did back in Gao Village. If you want to be a monk, you have to suffer-it's the only way of being a true disciple.”

“How heavy do you think this load is?” Pig asked.

“I haven't carried it since you and Friar Sand joined us, so how should I know?” Monkey replied.

“Just add it up,” said Pig. “There are

Four bundles wrapped in yellow bamboo mats,

Eight ropes of assorted lengths.

Then, to keep out rain and damp,

Three or four layers of felt around it

The carrying-pole is terrible slippery

With nails at either end.

Then there's a bronze and iron nine-ringed staff

And a cape made of bamboo and creeper.

With all this luggage to carry day after day of course I find the going heavy. While you're allowed to be the master's disciple, I'm treated as a hired hand.”

“Who do you think you're talking to, idiot?” Monkey asked.

“I'm talking to you, elder brother,” said Pig.

“You shouldn't be complaining about this to me,” Monkey replied. “My job is to look after the master's safety, while you and Friar Sand look after the horse and the luggage. And if there's any slacking from you, you'll feel a heavy stick about you ankles.”

“Don't threaten me with a beating, brother,” said Pig, “that would be bullying. I know that you're too high and mighty to carry the luggage, but the master's horse is a big, sturdy animal to be carrying only one old monk. I'd be very happy if it could carry a few pieces of luggage.”

“Do you think he's a horse?” Monkey asked. “He's no ordinary horse. He was the son of Ao Run, the Dragon King of the Western Sea, and his name is Prince Dragon-horse. Because he burnt the palace pearls his father reported on him as an offender against the Heavenly Code. Luckily for him, his life saved by the Bodhisattva Guanyin, and he waited a long time for the master in the Eagle's Sorrow Gorge. He was honoured by another visit from the Bodhisattva, who took off his scales and horns, removed the pearls from under his neck, and turned him into this horse, which has sworn to carry the master to the Western Heaven to visit the Buddha. This is a matter of him winning merit for himself, so you'd better leave him alone.”

“Is he really a dragon?” asked Friar Sand when he heard this.

“Yes,” Monkey replied.

“I've heard an old saying,” Pig remarked, “that dragons can breathe out clouds, make the dust and sand fly, pull mountain ranges up by their roots, and turn oceans upside down. How is it that he's moving so slowly now?”

“If you want to see him go fast,” Monkey replied, “I'll make him go fast for you.” The splendid Great Sage gripped his iron cudgel, and countless luminous clouds sprang from it. When the horse saw him grab the cudgel he thought he was going to be hit with it, and in his terror he shot off at the speed of lightning. Sanzang was too weak to rein him in as the equine dashed up the mountainside for all his evil nature was worth before he slackened his pace. When Sanzang began to get his breath back, he looked up and saw some fine houses in the shade of a bamboo grove:

Cypresses were bending over the gates

Of the houses near the blue mountain.

There were several spreading pines

And some molded bamboo.

Wild chrysanthemum outside the fence, beautiful in the frost;

The orchid by the bridge reflected red in the water.

A whitewashed, plastered wall

Surrounded it.

Handsome was the lofty hall,

Peaceful the main building.

There was no sign of oxen or sheep, or chickens, or dogs;

It seemed to be the slack season after harvest.

Sanzang stopped the horse to take a longer look, and then he saw Monkey and the others arrive. “You didn't fall off the horse, master?” asked Monkey.

“You gave this horse a terrible fright, you filthy ape,” Sanzang said, “but I kept my seat.”

“Don't tell me off, master,” said Monkey, putting on a smile. “It was only because Pig said the horse was going too slowly that I made him speed up a bit.”

The blockhead Pig, who had been running quite fast after the horse, was puffing and panting as he mumbled, “Enough of this. When you're bent double you can't relax. Although I'm carrying a load so heavy I can't pick it up, you make me go running after the horse.”

“Disciple,” said Sanzang, “do you see the farm over there? Let's ask if we can spend the night there.” Monkey immediately looked up, saw that the sky above it was full of clouds of blessing, and knew that the farm had been miraculously produced by the Buddha or some Immortals.

Not daring to give away the secrets of Heaven, however, he only said, “Splendid, splendid, let's ask if we can lodge there.” Dismounting from his horse, Sanzang saw a gate-house with pillars like elephants' trunks and beams that had been painted and carved.

Friar Sand put down the carrying-pole and Pig said as he held the horse, “This is a very wealthy house.”

Monkey was on the point of going in when Sanzang said, “No, we men of religion should avoid incurring suspicion. You mustn't go charging in. We should wait till somebody comes out and then ask politely for lodging.” Pig tethered the horse at the sloping base of the wall while Sanzang sat on a stone stool, and Friar Sand and Monkey sat beside the steps. When nobody appeared for a long time Monkey jumped up impatiently and went through the gate to have a look. He saw a large hall facing South whose tall windows were shaded with bamboo curtains. Over the doorway dividing the inner and outer parts of the house was a horizontal landscape painting symbolizing long life and blessings, and on the gold-painted columns flanking the door was pasted a pair of scrolls reading:

“The tender willow leaves sway in the evening by the bridge;

When the plum-blossom looks like snowflakes it is spring in the courtyard.

In the middle of the room was an incense table whose black lacquer had been polished, an ancient animal-shaped bronze incense-burner standing on it, and six chairs. Pictures of the four seasons were hung on the walls at either end of the hall.

As Monkey was peeping inside he heard footsteps from behind the door at the back. A woman, neither old nor young, came out, and asked in a charming voice, “Who has forced his way into this widow's house of mine?”

The Great Sage hastened to greet her respectfully and say, “I am a humble monk from the Great Tang in the East, under imperial orders to go to the West to worship the Buddha and ask for the scriptures. There are four of us altogether, and since our journey has brought us this way as evening is drawing in, we have come to your mansion, divine patroness, to beg for a night's lodging.”

She returned his greeting with a smile and said, “Where are the other three gentlemen, venerable sir?” at which Monkey shouted, “Master, come in.” Sanzang, Pig and Friar Sand then came in, bringing the horse and the luggage with them. As the woman came out of the hall to welcome them, Pig stole a glance at her with greedy eyes.

She wore a green silk gown,

And over it a pale red jacket;

A skirt of yellow brocade,

Below which showed thick-soled shoes.

Her fashionable coiffure was veiled in black,

Which suited her graying locks, coiled like a dragon;