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

And round his waist a belt of blue-green jade.

Dragons and phoenixes danced on his ochre robe;

His no-worry shoes were embroidered with clouds.

The white jade scepter he held was arrayed with constellations.

His face was like the eternal Emperor of Mount Tai,

His form like Wenchang, god of officialdom.

At the sight of him Sanzang turned pale with shock. He bowed at once and called out at the top of his voice, “Which monarch are you, Your Majesty? Please be seated.” He hurried over to support the monarch, only to find he was holding on to thin air. He looked again and saw that the man was still there.

“Your Majesty,” said Sanzang, “which king are you? What country do you rule? I suppose that you must have fled here in the middle of the night because your country is in chaos or because you are being put upon by malicious ministers. Tell me your story.”

Only then did the man tell what had happened, the tears streaming down his cheeks and his forehead creased with frowns. “Father,” he said, “I live only some fifteen miles to the West of here, in the walled city where my dynasty was founded.”

“What is it called?” Sanzang asked.

“I'm telling you the truth, Father,” he replied. “When I established my regime I changed the name of the state to Wuji.”

“But why is Your Majesty in this terrible distress?” Sanzang continued.

“Father,” the other said, “there was a drought here five years ago so bad that no vegetation grew and the people were dying of starvation. It was appalling.”

Hearing this Sanzang nodded and said with a smile, “Your Majesty, there's an old saying that Heaven favours a well-governed country. I expect that you were not merciful towards your subjects. Even if there is a famine you have no business to flee from your city. Go back, open up your granaries, and give the people relief. Repent of your past sins and be good from now on. Pardon all those who have been wrongly condemned. Heaven's heart will of itself be moved in harmony, and wind and rains will come as they should.”

“But our granaries were empty,” the other said. “We had no money or grain left. The salaries of the officials and the military were in default, and we were eating no meat with our royal meals. We followed the example of Yu the Great when he brought the waters under control, sharing weal and woe with our subjects, taking baths to purify ourself, fasting, burning incense and praying day and night. This went on for three years, but the drought continued to be so bad that the rivers and wells dried up. Just when the crisis was desperate a Quanzhen Taoist wizard came from the Zhongnan Mountains. He could summon wind and rain, and turn stones to gold with a touch. First he went to see our civil and military officials, and then he came to see us. We invited him to come to the altar to pray, and he got results. Wherever he pointed his magic wand there would be a torrential downpour. We thought that three feet of rain would be sufficient, but he said that it would not be enough to restore fertility after so long a time and gave an extra two inches of rain. Seeing how generous he was we kowtowed to him and took him as our sworn brother.”

“Then Your Majesty is extremely fortunate,” said Sanzang.

“In what way?” the other asked.

“If that Quanzhen wizard has the powers to make it rain whenever you like and you can get him to turn things to gold at will, then what is so terrible that you have to flee here from your city?”

“We only ate at the same table and slept in the same room for two years. Then one spring day when the red apricot and the peach tree were in blossom all the gentlemen, ladies and princes went out to enjoy the beauty of the season. After the civil and military officials had returned to their offices and the royal spouses and concubines gone back to their quarters we were strolling hand-in-hand with the wizard in the palace garden. When we reached the eight-sided well with a glazed-tile top he threw something into the well-we don't know what it was-that made it shine with golden light. Luring us to the edge of the well to look at this treasure he had the murderous notion of pushing us in with a splash and placing a flagstone over the top of the well. He piled earth over this then put in a plantain on top of it. So we have already been dead for three years, alas. We are the ghost of one who was wickedly murdered by being pushed down a well.”

On learning that he was a ghost the Tang Priest felt weak all over, and his hairs stood on end. But he had to bring himself to continue his questioning. “Your Majesty, what you say is all wrong. If you have been dead for three years, why didn't the civil and military officials or your queens go looking for you when they attended court for audiences with Your Majesty?”

“Father,” the ghost replied, “his powers are ones rarely seen in the world. As soon as he had killed us he shook himself and turned into an identical likeness of us. Now he is the master of our country, the secret thief of our territory. Our civil and military officials, the four hundred courtiers, the three queens and the consorts and concubines of the six compounds all now belong to him.”

“You are a coward, Your Majesty,” said Sanzang.

“How are we a coward?” the ghost asked.

“Your Majesty,” said Sanzang, “even if the monster has the magic powers to turn into your double and steal your kingdom, undetected by your civil and military officials or by your queens and consorts, so that only you know the truth and you are dead, why have you not brought a case against him in the Underworld court of King Yama? There you could lodge a complaint and complain of the wrongs you have suffered.”

“But his magic powers are so extensive and he is so well in with all the relevant officials,” replied the ghost. “He's always drinking with the city god, and he's connected with all the dragon kings. The Heaven-equaling God of Mount Tai is a friend of his, and all the Ten Kings of the Underworld are his sworn brothers. We have nowhere to turn if we want to bring a case against him.”

“Your Majesty,” said Sanzang, “if you are powerless to bring a case against him in the Underworld then why come to the world of the living?”

“Father,” the other replied, “as a ghost of a man unjustly killed I would never have dared call upon you. Outside the monastery gates are the Heavenly Kings who Protect the Law, the Six Dings and the Six Jias, the Protectors of the Four Quarters and the Centre, the Four Duty Gods, and the Eighteen Guardians of the Faith, all with their horses saddled up. It was only a magic wind created by the Patroller of the Night that brought me here. He said that my three years of suffering were due to end and sent me to pay my respects to you, Father. He told me that your senior disciple is the Great Sage Equaling Heaven and that he is a very powerful killer of monsters and subduer of demons. I am here tonight to plead with you and beg you to come to my country, capture the evil monster, and expose his wickedness. We will be deeply grateful and repay you, Master, for your great kindness.”

“Your Majesty,” said Sanzang, “Have you come to ask that my disciple should go to rid you of this fiend?”

“Yes, that's right,” the other replied.

“That disciple of mine is good for little else,” said Sanzang, “but subduing demons and capturing monsters is right up his alley. The only thing is, Your Majesty, that even if he's given the job he may not be able to carry it out.”

“Why not?” the ghost asked.

“Well,” said Sanzang, “That fiend must have stupendous magical powers if he can make himself so much like you that all the civil and military officials at court are happy with him and every one of the consorts and concubines in your harem is fond of him. Even though my disciple has some magic powers he should most certainly not resort to arms lightly. If he is captured and charged with high treason we will be thrown into jail. Then everything will be ruined.”