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

Your unworthy daughter Prettier-than-a-flower kowtows one hundred times to His Most Excellent Majesty the King her father in the Dragon and Phoenix Palace, to her Majesty the Queen her mother outside the Palace of Shining Radiance, and to all the noble ministers and generals of the court; it is my pleasure to send news to you and thank you for the infinite trouble you have taken on my behalf. But I am unable to devote myself to cheering Your Majesty and carry out my filial duties to the full.

Thirteen years ago, on the festive fifteenth night of the eighth month, when banquets were being given in all the palaces in accordance with Your Majesty's benevolent command, we were enjoying the moonlight and the clear stars. In the middle of our rejoicing a sudden gust of fragrant wind blew up, and from it emerged a demon king with golden pupils, a blue face, and green hair, who seized your daughter and carried her away on a magic cloud to a desolate mountain far from human habitation. There was no way I could stop him forcing me to be his wife, and I have had to endure this for thirteen years. I have borne him two fiendish sons, and they are both complete monsters. I would not have written to you and sullied you with the news of my uncivilized and disgraceful experiences, but I was afraid that after my death nobody would know what had happened to me. Just as I was missing my parents and angry about my fate, a Tang monk also happened to be captured by the monster, so with tears in my eyes I am boldly writing this letter and sending it to you as a token of my feelings. I beg you, Majesty, to take pity on me and send a general to the Moon Waters Cave in Bowl Mountain to capture the Yellow-robed Monster, rescue me, and take me back to the palace, this would make me profoundly grateful. Please excuse the hasty and disrespectful tone of this letter.

With more kowtows,

Your disobedient daughter,

Prettier-than-a-flower.

When the Grand Scholar had read it through, the king wept aloud, the ladies of the palace were all in tears, and the officials were all saddened. Everyone was miserable.

After weeping for a long time the king asked the civil and military officials which of them would lead troops to capture the monster and rescue Princess Prettier-than-a-flower for him. He asked them all several times, but nobody would accept, the generals looked as though they were carved out of wood, and the officials might have been molded from clay.

The king was highly agitated, and floods of tears were pouring down his face when the civil and military officials all prostrated themselves before him and said, “Please don't be so disturbed, Your Majesty. The princess has been lost for thirteen years now without anything being heard of her, so we cannot yet know whether she really met this Tang priest and sent a letter by him. Besides, we are all mere mortals, and the military manuals and books of strategy we have studied only cover the deployment of soldiers in battle, making encampments, and what else is necessary to protect the country from the disaster of invasion. That evil spirit travels by cloud and mist, and we would never even be able to catch sight of him, let alone capture him and rescue the Princess. Now that Easterner who is going to fetch scriptures is a holy priest from a great country. This monk must have demon-subduing powers as his 'high qualities overawe the dragons and tigers, and his great virtues give him power over devils and gods.'

“As the old saying goes, 'The man who comes to argue about rights and wrongs is usually the wrongdoer himself.' Far and away the best plan would be to ask this venerable gentleman to subdue the fiend and rescue the princess.”

“If you have any supernatural skills, venerable sir,” the king said, turning at once to Sanzang, “then use your dharma powers to capture this evil monster and bring my daughter back to the palace. If you do that there will be no need to travel to the West and visit the Buddha. You can let your hair grow and I will make you my brother. We shall sit together on the dragon throne and share my wealth and honour. What about it?”

“My only humble skill,” Sanzang hastened to reply, “lies in invoking the Buddha's name, and I really cannot subdue fiends.”

“If you can't subdue fiends,” the king retorted, “how can you have the courage to go to visit the Buddha in the Western Heaven?”

Sanzang now told him about the two disciples as he could not keep them a secret any longer. “Your Majesty,” he said, “I could scarcely have come this far by myself. I have two disciples, both skilled at finding ways across mountains and at bridging rivers, who have escorted me here.”

“You have behaved disgracefully, monk,” said the king angrily. “As you have disciples, you should have brought them with you to see me. Even if we could have offered them no presents they would have liked, they would at least have been given a meal.”

“My disciples are so hideous,” Sanzang replied, “that I dared not bring them to court for fear of offending Your Majesty's dignity.”

“What a monkish thing to say,” observed the king with a smile. “You don't really think I would be afraid of them, do you?”

“Oh, no,” said Sanzang. “The surname of the older one is Pig; his personal names are Wuneng, Awakened to Power, and Bajie, Eight Prohibitions. He has a long snout, vicious fangs, bristles of steel and ears as big as fans. He is so heftily built that he makes a breeze as he walks. The surname of the second disciple is Sand, and his Buddhist name is Monk Awakened to Purity. He is twelve feet tall, and his arms are four feet thick. His face is the color of indigo, and his mouth is like a bowl of blood. His eyes burn and flash, and his teeth are like rows of nails. It was because they both look so terrible that I did not dare bring them with me.”

“Even after you have told me about them,” said the king, “I know that I have nothing to fear. Have them summoned here.” With that a messenger with a golden tablet was sent to the rest-house to invite them to the palace.

On receiving the invitation the idiot said to Friar Sand, “Brother, do you still think he shouldn't have delivered the letter? Now you can see the advantages of delivering it. I reckon that when the master delivered it, the king must have thought that the person who brought such a message could not be treated rudely and so laid on a banquet for him. As our master has such a weak appetite he must have remembered us and mentioned our names. This is why the messenger was sent here. After a meal we'll be able to make a good start tomorrow.”

“This must have been in our destiny,” said Friar Sand. “Let's go.” Entrusting their baggage and the horse to the manager of the hostel they accompanied the messenger to court; they kept their weapons with them. When they reached the white jade steps they stood below them and chanted a “na-a-aw” of respect then stood there without moving. Every one of the civil and military officials was horrified.

“Apart from being hideous,” they said to each other, “they are far too coarse and vulgar. Why are they standing bolt upright after a mere 'na-a-aw' instead of prostrating themselves before His Majesty? Shocking, quite shocking.”

Overhearing this, pig said, “Please don't make rude comments on us, gentlemen. This is the way we look, and although we seem ugly at first sight, after a while we become quite bearable.”

The king, who had been quite frightened at the sight of their brutishness, trembled so violently on hearing the idiot Pig talking that he lost his balance and fell off his dragon throne. Fortunately the gentlemen-in-waiting were on hand to help him up again.

This threw Sanzang into such a panic that he fell to his knees and kowtowed without stopping, saying, “Your Majesty, I deserve to die ten thousand deaths, ten thousand deaths. I said that my disciples were too hideous for me to dare to bring them to court for fear of harming your dragon dignity, and now I have given Your Majesty this fright.”