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

“But I still have someone I can trust at court,” the ghost said.

“That's splendid,” said Sanzang, “quite splendid. No doubt it's a prince or a high official who was sent off to command a garrison somewhere.”

“No,” replied the ghost, “it's my son the crown prince who lives in my own palace.”

“But surely the crown prince must have been banished by that fiend.”

“No, he hasn't been,” the ghost replied. “He spends his time in the throne hall and the Tower of Five Phoenixes studying with learned scholars or sitting beside that wizard on the throne. For the last three years the crown prince has been banned from the queen's palace and prevented from seeing Her Majesty.”

“Why?” Sanzang asked.

“It has all been planned by that fiend,” said the ghost. “If the prince and his mother were to meet and start talking about things the truth would get out. He can only keep that throne if the two of them don't meet.”

“Your troubles, like mine, must have been sent from Heaven,” said Sanzang. “My father was murdered by pirates, one of whom seized my mother. Three months later I was born. I escaped with my life on the river and was rescued by my benefactor, the abbot of the Jinshan Monastery, who brought me up. I remember what it was like to be an orphan child, so I feel very sorry for a crown prince who has lost both his parents. But even though you still have your crown prince in the palace, how ever will I be able to see him?”

“What would stop you?” the ghost asked.

“If he is under such close control from the fiends,” Sanzang replied, “that he can't even see his own mother, how will a mere monk like myself get to see him?”

“He will be going out tomorrow,” said the ghost.

“Why?” Sanzang asked.

“After tomorrow's dawn audience,” said the ghost, “he will lead three thousand people riding out of the city with falcons and hounds to go hunting. You will certainly be able to see him. When you do, tell him everything that I have told you and he'll trust you.”

“But he is only a mortal,” replied Sanzang. “The fiend has him fooled in the palace, and he calls the fiend father several times a day. Why should he believe anything I say?”

“In case he doesn't I'll give you something that will be visible proof,” said the ghost.

“What?” asked Sanzang.

The ghost set down the gold-bordered white jade scepter he was holding and said, “This will be proof.”

“Why?” asked Sanzang.

“When the wizard made himself look just like me,” the ghost replied, “there was one treasure he failed to copy. After he went back to the palace he said that the wizard has stolen it, and for the last three years it has been missing. If the crown prince sees it he will be reminded of me and I shall be able to take my revenge.”

“Very well then,” said Sanzang, “I shall keep it and send my disciple to sort things out for you. Will you wait for the crown prince there?”

“I dare not stay there myself,” said the ghost. “I shall have to ask the Patroller of the Night to send another magic wind to blow me into the palace harem to appear in a dream to my first queen to tell her to co-operate with our son, with you, Father, and with your disciples.”

Sanzang nodded and agreed. “Off you go then.”

The ghost of the murdered monarch kowtowed to take his leave. Sanzang was just stepping forward to see the ghost out when he tripped and went sprawling, giving himself such a fright that he woke up. So it had all been a dream. In the dim lamplight he called, “Disciples!” with alarm.

“What's he going on about 'trifles, trifles' for?” muttered Pig as he woke up. “How happy I used to be in the old days. I was a real tough guy. I lived on nothing but human flesh and I always ate my fill of it. You would have to be a monk and make us protect you on your journey. You told me I'd be a monk, but now you treat me more like your slave. I have to carry your baggage and lead your horse all day, and empty your chamber-pot and lie at the foot of your bed to warm your feet by night. You never let me get any sleep. Why are you calling for me now?”

“Disciple,” said Sanzang, “I had a strange dream when I dozed off with my head on the table just now.”

“Master,” said Monkey, springing to his feet, “dreams come from the imagination. You get frightened of demons before you've even started to climb a mountain. You worry if you will ever reach the Thunder Monastery as it's so far away; and you miss Chang'an and wonder when you'll ever get back there. That's why you're so full of anxieties and dreams. Now I'm sincere and single-minded about going to the West to see the Buddha: no dreams ever come to me.”

“Disciple,” said Sanzang, “this dream of mine was no dream of home. No sooner had I closed my eyes than a great wind blew up and a king appeared outside the doors of the meditation hall. He said he was the monarch of the land of Wuji. He was soaking wet and in floods of tears.” Sanzang was just about to tell Brother Monkey all about the dream and everything he had been told in it.

“No need to tell me any more,” said Monkey. “He came to see you in a dream and was evidently bringing me some business. No doubt some fiend has usurped his throne. I'll have it out with the fiend. I'm sure I'll succeed the moment my cudgel hits him.”

“But he told me that the fiend has tremendous magic powers,” warned Sanzang.

“Tremendous, my eye!” said Monkey. “As soon as he realizes that I've arrived he'll regret having nowhere to flee to.”

“I remember that the king also left me a treasure as proof,” said Sanzang.

“Don't talk such nonsense,” replied Pig. “If you had a dream, that was that. Why all this chitchat?”

“'Don't trust what seems to be straighter than straight, and beware that kindness is not really unkindness,'“ put in Friar Sand. “Let's strike a light, open the doors, and see what we can see.”

So Brother Monkey opened the doors, and when they all looked outside they saw by the light of the moon and the stars that a gold-bordered white jade scepter was indeed lying by the side of the steps.

“What's this, brother?” asked Pig as he went over and picked it up.

“It's a treasure called a jade scepter that a monarch holds in his hands,” said Monkey, “and it makes me believe, Master, that the story's true. I'll take full responsibility for capturing the fiend tomorrow. But there are three favours I'll want you to do me.”

“This is great,” said Pig, “really great. First you have a dream, then you have to tell him about it. He tricks people at every turn. Now he's asking you for three favours.”

Going back inside, Sanzang asked, “What three favours?”

“Tomorrow I want you to suffer on my behalf, be put upon, and catch a fever,” said Monkey.

“Any one of them would be bad enough,” smirked Pig. “I couldn't possibly take on all three.” Being an intelligent elder, the Tang Priest asked his disciple to explain why he wanted these three things done.

“There'll be no need for explanations,” said Monkey. “Let me first give you a couple of things.”

The splendid Great Sage plucked out a hair, blew a magic breath on it, called “Change!” and turned it into a box of red and gold lacquer into which he placed the white jade scepter. “Master,” he said, “at dawn tomorrow you must put on your golden cassock and sit in the main hall of the monastery reciting scriptures with the box in your hands while I go and give that city the once-over. If he really is an evil spirit I'll kill him, and that will be one more good deed to my credit. If he isn't, then we won't get ourselves into trouble.”

“Excellent, excellent,” said Sanzang.