Wu Cheng-en - Journey to the West (vol. 2)

All the she-devils grabbed him and said, “Please don't lose your temper, elder brother. Tell us where the visitors come from.” The Taoist master pulled a long face and ignored them. “When the boys came in for the tea just now they told us the visitors are four Buddhist monks,” the she-devils said.

“They're monks,” said the Taoist master angrily, “what of it?”

“Does one of the four monks have a pale, fat face,” the she-devils asked, “and one of them a long snout and big ears? Did you ask them where they're from?”

“Yes,” the Taoist said, “there are two like that among them. How did you know? I suppose you've seen them somewhere.”

“You don't know the terrible things that have happened, brother,” the devils said. “That monk was sent by the Tang court to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven. He came to our cave this morning begging for food. We captured him because we'd heard of this Tang Priest.”

“Why did you capture him?” the Taoist asked.

“We've long known that the Tang Priest has a pure body because he has cultivated his conduct for ten successive incarnations,” the devils replied. “Anyone who eats a piece of his flesh will live for ever. That's why we captured him. Later the monk with a long snout and big ears kept us in the Filth-cleansing Spring. First he stole our clothes and then he used his magical powers to insist on bathing with us. He jumped into the water and turned himself into a catfish. From the way he kept swimming around between our thighs he obviously had very improper ideas. He was thoroughly disgraceful. Then he jumped out of the water and turned back into himself. As we weren't going to let him have his way he tried to kill us all with his nine-pronged rake. If we hadn't known a thing or two he'd have murdered the lot of us. We fled in fear and trembling and sent your nephews into battle. We don't know whether they are alive or dead. We have come here to fling ourselves on your mercy and beg you to avenge your fellow-students from long ago.”

On hearing this the Taoist was furious, as could be seen from his changed expression. “What outrageous monks!” he exclaimed. “What hooligans! Don't you worry: I'm going to sort them out.”

“If you're going to fight them,” said the she-devils in gratitude, “you must let us help you.”

“There'll be no need to fight,” said the Taoist, “no need. As the saying goes, you have to lower yourself to fight someone. Come with me.”

The women went with him into his room, where he carried a ladder behind the bed, climbed up to the rafters and brought down a little leather box. It was eight inches high, a foot long, four inches wide and locked with a tiny brass lock. From his sleeve he produced a square handkerchief of goose-yellow silk, to the fringes of which a tiny key was tied. Unlocking the box he brought out a packet containing a drug. This drug was:

A thousand pounds of droppings

From all kinds of mountain birds,

Boiled in a copper cauldron,

Reduced on an even fire,

Till the thousand pounds were only a spoonful

That was then reduced to a third.

This was fried even longer,

Refined and smoked once again.

To make the poisonous drug,

More precious than treasures or jewels.

Were you to try out its flavor,

One taste would send yon to Hell.

“Sisters,” said the Taoist master, “any mortal who eats one grain of this treasure of mine will be dead when it reaches his stomach. Only three grains would be enough to kill a god or an immortal. As these monks may have mastered something of the Way they'll need three grains. Fetch my balance.” One of the women brought a balance at once.

“Weigh out twelve grains,” he said, “and divide that into four portions.” Then he took twelve red jujubes, pinched holes in them, stuffed a grain of the drug in each, and put them into four teacups. These were then placed with a fifth cup containing two black jujubes on a tray.

“Let me question them,” he said. “If they aren't from Tang that'll be the end of it; but if they are I'll ask for fresh tea and you can give this tea to the boys to bring in. Once they drink it they'll all die and you'll be avenged. That'll cheer you up.” The seven women were beside themselves with gratitude.

The Taoist changed into another robe and walked out again with a great show of feigned courtesy. He urged the Tang Priest and the others to sit down in the guest seats again. “Please excuse me, venerable sir,” the Taoist said. “The reason why I neglected you just now was because I was at the back telling my disciples to choose some greens and radishes to cook as a vegetarian meal for you.”

“We Buddhist monks came empty-handed,” said Sanzang. “We could not possibly trouble you for a meal.”

“We are all men of religion,” replied the Taoist master with a smile. “Whenever we go to a monastery or temple we are entitled to three pints of rice, so why talk of being empty-handed? May I ask you, reverend sir, what monastery you are from, and why you are here?”

“I have been sent by His Majesty the Great Tang emperor to fetch the scriptures from the Great Thunder Monastery in the Western Heaven,” Sanzang replied. “As we were passing your Taoist temple we came in to pay our respects.”

At this news the Taoist's face was full of animation, as he said, “It was only because I did not realize you were so faithful to the most virtuous Buddha that I failed to come out a long way to meet you. Please forgive me. Please forgive me.” Then he told the boys to bring fresh tea at once and get a meal ready as soon as possible, at which the boys went straight inside to fetch the tea.

“Here's some good tea that's all ready,” the women called to them. “Take this in.” The boys did indeed take the five cups in, and the Taoist master hurriedly passed a cup of red jujube tea to the Tang Priest. As Pig was so big the Taoist took him for the senior disciple, and he thought Friar Sand was the next senior. Thinking that Monkey was the junior one the Taoist only handed him his cup fourth. By the time the sharp-eyed Brother Monkey took his cup he had already noticed that there were two black jujubes in the cup left on the tray.

“Let's change cups, sir,” he said. “To be honest with you,” the Taoist replied with a smile, “as a poor Taoist living out here in the wilds I am rather short of tea and food at the moment. I was looking for fruit out at the back just now and I could only find these twelve red jujubes to put into four cups of tea to offer you. As I had to take something with you I made another cup with these inferior jujubes to keep you company. This is just a gesture of respect.”

“What nonsense,” said Monkey with a smile. “As the ancients said, 'You are never poor if you are at home; but poverty on a journey is killing.' You're at home here, so why all this talk about being poor? It's wandering monks like us who are really poor. I'll swap with you. I insist.”

“Wukong,” said Sanzang when he heard this, “this immortal gentleman is being very hospitable. You have yours. There is no need for a swap.” Monkey had no choice. Taking the cup with his left hand he covered it with his right and watched them.

Pig, however, who apart from feeling hungry and thirsty had an enormous appetite at the best of times, picked the three red jujubes out of the cup as soon as he saw them and swallowed them noisily. The master ate his too, as did Friar Sand. In that very instant Pig's face changed color, tears started pouring from Friar Sand's eyes and the Tang Priest began to foam at the mouth. Unable to sit upright, all three of them fainted and fell to the floor.

Realizing that they had been poisoned, the Great Sage raised his teacup in his hands and threw it at the Taoist master's face. The Taoist stopped it with his sleeve and it shattered noisily as it fell to the floor. “You lout, monk,” said the Taoist in fury, “how dare you smash my cup?”