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

Its troublesome little body has a sharp bite,

Its faint buzz echoes like thunder.

Clever at getting through the curtains round the bed,

It particularly loves the summer's warm weather.

It fears only smoke and fly-swatters,

And loves the brilliance of the lamp.

Light and tiny, it flies straight in,

Entering the evil spirit's cave.

Seeing that the lowly demon on the gate was fast asleep and snoring, Monkey bit him on the face, at which the creature woke up and said, “My lord! What an enormous mosquito! It's raised a huge lump with a single bite.” Then he opened his eyes and announced, “It's light.” The two gates creaked open, and Monkey flew inside with a buzz to see the old demon giving orders that a very close watch was to be kept at all the gates, and all the weapons are to be assembled at such-and-such a spot.

“I'm afraid that yesterday's wind may not have killed Brother Monkey,” he was saying, “and I think he's bound to come back today. When he does, I'll finish him off.”

When he heard this, Monkey flew across to the back of the hall where he saw a door that was tightly closed. He slipped through the crack between the two leaves of the door and found himself in a large empty garden, on one side of which was the wind-settling stake with the Tang Priest tied to it. The tears were pouring down Sanzang's face as he wondered where Monkey and Pig were. Monkey stopped flying as he stung his shaven pate and called, “Master.”

“Monkey,” said Sanzang, recognizing his voice, “do you want to get me killed? Where are you calling me from?”

“I'm on your head, master. Don't be anxious or worried. We are sure to catch that evil spirit and save your life.”

“How long will it be till you catch that evil spirit, disciple?”

“Pig has already killed the tiger monster who captured you,” Monkey replied, “but that old fiend has a terrible way with a hurricane. All the same, I'm certain that I can catch him today, so don't worry and stop crying. I'm off now.”

With those words he buzzed away to the front hall, where he saw the old monster sitting on his throne and reviewing his captains. A junior evil spirit suddenly rushed in with a command flag in his hands and announced, “I had just gone out to patrol the mountain, Your Majesty, when I saw a monk with a long snout and big ears sitting in the woods. If I hadn't run as fast as I could, he'd have caught me. But I didn't see that hairy-faced monk.”

“If Brother Monkey wasn't there,” the old fiend said, “he must have been killed by the wind, and he won't be going off to get soldiers to rescue his master.”

“If the wind killed him, Your Majesty,” the other devils said, “we are in luck. But if he wasn't killed and went to fetch divine soldiers instead, what's to be done?”

“What's so frightening about divine soldiers?” the old fiend said. “None of them can put down my wind except the Bodhisattva Lingji, so there's no need to fear the rest of them.”

When Monkey heard this as he sat on a roof-beam, he was beside himself with delight. Flying straight out, he reverted to his real form and went back to the wood, calling, “Brother.”

“Where have you been?” Pig asked. “I chased an evil spirit with a command flag away just now.”

“Good for you,” said Monkey with a smile, “good for you. I changed myself into a mosquito and went into the cave to see our master. He was tied to a wind-settling stake in there and crying. I told him not to cry, flew up to a roof-beam, and had a good listen. I saw the one with the command flag come puffing and panting in to report that you'd chased him away and that he hadn't seen me. The old fined was making some wild guesses. First he said that I had been killed by his wind, then he said I'd gone to ask for the help of divine soldiers. It's wonderful-he gave the fellow's name away.”

“Whose name?” Pig asked.

“He said that no divine soldier could suppress his wind except the Bodhisattva Lingji,” Monkey continued, adding, “but I don't know where the Bodhisattva Lingji lives.”

As they were wondering what to do, an old man came along the road. Look at him:

He was strong enough not to need a stick,

But his beard was like ice and his flowing hair snowy.

Although his gold-flecked sparkling eyes seemed somewhat dim,

His aged bones and muscles had not lost their strength.

Slowly he walked, back bent, and head bowed down,

But his broad brow and rosy cheeks were those of a boy.

If you gave him a name from his looks,

The Star of Longevity had come out of his cave.

When Pig saw him he said with delight, “Brother, you know the saying, 'If you want to know the way down the mountain, ask a regular traveler.' Why don't you ask him?” The Great Sage put his iron cudgel away, unhitched his clothes, and went up to the old man. “Greetings, grandfather,” he said.

Half replying to him and half not, the old man returned his bow and asked, “Where are you from, monk, and what are you doing in this desolate spot?”

“We are holy monks going to fetch the scriptures,” Monkey replied. “Yesterday we lost our master here, and we would like to ask you, sir, where the Bodhisattva Lingji lives.”

“Lingji lives a thousand miles due South of here,” the old man said, “on a mountain called Little Mount Sumeru. There is a holy place there which is the monastery where he preaches the scriptures. Are you going to fetch scriptures from him.”

“No,” Monkey replied, “we're going not to fetch scriptures from him, but to trouble him over something else. How does one get there?”

The old man pointed South and said, “That twisting path will take you.” Thus tricking the Great Sage into turning round to look, the old man turned into a puff of wind and disappeared from sight. All that could be seen of him was a piece of paper he had left beside the road. On it there were four lines of verse that read:

“I report to the Great Sage Equaling Heaven,

That I am Long Life Li.

On Sumeru Mountain there is a Flying Dragon Staff,

The weapon the Buddha once gave to Lingji.”

Brother Monkey took the note turned, and set off. “What lousy luck we've been having for the last few days, brother,” said Pig. “For the last couple of days we've been seeing ghosts even in broad daylight. Who was that old man who turned into a wind?” Monkey handed the piece of paper to him, and when he had read it he said, “Who is this Long Life Li?”

“He's the Great White Planet of the West,” Monkey replied.

Pig immediately bowed low and said, “My benefactor, my benefactor. If he hadn't put in a memorial to the Jade Emperor, I don't know what would have become of me.”

“So you're capable of feeling gratitude,” said Monkey. “Meanwhile, you're to hide deep in these woods without showing yourself, and keep a close watch on the baggage and the horse while I go to Mount Sumeru to ask the Bodhisattva to come.”

“Understood,” said Pig, “understood. You go as fast as you can. I've learned the tortoise's trick, and can pull my head in when necessary.”

The Great Sage Monkey leapt into the air and headed South on his somersault cloud at tremendous speed. He could cover a thousand miles with a nod of his head, and do eight hundred stages with a twist of his waist. It was only an instant before he saw a high mountain surrounded by auspicious clouds and a propitious aura. In a valley on the mountain there was a monastery from which the distant sounds of bells and stone chimes could be heard, and a haze of incense smoke hung above it. Monkey went straight to the gate, where he saw a lay brother with prayer beads round his neck who was invoking the Buddha.

“Greetings, lay brother,” said Monkey, clasping his hands in salutation.