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

“Where are they?” Pig asked, “where've they gone?”

“Where they have gone I don't know,” Sanzang replied, “but where we talked about poetry was near here.”

When the three disciples searched with their master they found a rock-face on which were carved the words “Tree Immortals' Hermitage.”

“This is it,” said Sanzang, and on looking carefully Brother Monkey saw a big juniper, an old cypress, an old pine and an old bamboo. Behind the bamboo was a red maple. When he took another look by the rock-face he saw an old apricot tree, two winter-flowering plums, and two osman-thuses.

“Did you see the evil spirits?” Monkey asked.

“No,” said Pig.

“It's just because you don't realize that those trees have become spirits,” said Monkey.

“How can you tell that the spirits were trees?” Pig asked.

“The Eighteenth lord is the pine,” Monkey replied, “the Lone Upright Lord the cypress, Master Emptiness the juniper and the Ancient Cloud-toucher the bamboo. The maple there was the red devil and the Apricot Fairy that apricot tree.”

When Pig heard this he ruthlessly hit with his rake and rooted with his snout to knock the plum, osmanthus, apricot and maple trees over, and as he did blood flowed from their roots. “Wuneng,” said Sanzang, going up to him to check him, “don't harm any more of them. Although they have become spirits they did me no harm. Let's be on our way again.”

“Don't be sorry for them, Master,” said Monkey. “They'll do people a great deal of harm if we let them develop into big monsters.” With that the idiot let fly with his rake and knocked pine, cypress, juniper ad bamboo all to the ground. Only then did he invite his master to remount and carry along the main route to the West.

If you don't know what happened as they pressed ahead, listen to the explanation in the next installment.

A Demon Creates a False Thunder Peak

All Four Pilgrims Meet with Disaster

The cause and effect this time revealed

Should make one do what's good and shun the evil.

Once a thought is born

The Intelligence is aware of it.

And lets it become action.

Why strive to learn stupidity or skill?

Both are medicines for heartlessness.

Do what is right while you are still alive;

Do not just drift.

Recognize the root and the source,

Escape from the trunk and the husk.

If seeking long life you must grasp this.

Watch clearly at every moment,

Refine your thoughts.

Go through the three passes, fill up the black sea;

The good will surely ride on the phoenix and crane.

Then your gloom will change to compassion

As you ascend to absolute bliss.

Tang Sanzang's thoughts were so pure that not only did the heavenly gods protect him: even the vegetable spirits had taken him along a part of his journey for a night of elegant conversation, thereby saving him from having to go through the thorns and brambles. Nor were there any more creepers to entangle them. As the four of them carried on West for another long period winter ended and spring returned.

All things begin to flower,

The handle of the Dipper returns to the East.

Everywhere the grass is green,

As are the leaves of willows on the bank.

The ridge covered in peach blossom is red brocade;

The mist over the stream is a translucent gauze.

Frequent wind and rain,

Unbounded feeling.

Flowers open their hearts to the sun,

Swallows carry off the delicate moss.

Wang Wei should have painted the beauty of the mountains;

The birdsong is as persuasive as Su Qin's golden tongue.

Though no one sees these fragrant cushions of flowers

The butterflies and singing bees adore them.

Master and disciples made their way across the flowers and the grass ambling along with the horse until they made out in the distance a mountain so high that it touched the sky. Pointing at it with his riding crop Sanzang said, “I wonder how high that mountain is, Wukong. It touches the heavens and pierces the firmament.”

“Isn't there some ancient poem that says, 'Heaven alone is supreme: no mountain can equal its height?'“ Monkey replied. “However high a mountain is it can't possibly join up with the sky.”

“Then why's Mount Kunlun called the pillar of heaven?” Pig asked.

“Evidently you don't know that part of the sky has always been missing in the Northwest,” Brother Monkey replied. “As Kunlun's in the Northwest corner it plugs that hole in the sky. That's why it's called the pillar of heaven.”

“Brother,” said Friar Sand with a smile, “stop telling him all that. He'll brag about it to make himself superior. We'll know how high the mountain is when we've climbed it.”

The idiot started chasing Friar Sand and brawling with him in a playful way, and the master's horse galloped as if on wings. They were soon at the foot of a precipice up which they made their way painfully slowly. This is what the mountain was like:

The wind rustling in the woods,

Water gushing along the beds of ravines.

Crows and sparrows cannot fly across it;

Even gods and immortals find it hard.

Scars and gullies endlessly twisting;

Clouds of dust blowing where no one can go;

Rocks in strange and fascinating shapes.

Clouds like vast expanses of water,

While elsewhere birds sing in the trees.

Deer carry magic fungus in their mouths.

Apes pick peaches.

Foxes and raccoon dogs spring around on the cliffs,

Large and small deer play on the ridge.

Then comes the spine-chilling roar of a tiger,

And the way is blocked by leopards and wolves.

Sanzang was terrified by what he saw, but Monkey's powers were enormous. With his gold-banded cudgel and a mighty roar he sent the wolves, tigers, leopards and other wild beasts running then cleared the way for the master to reach the top of the mountain. Once they were over the summit ridge and had started going down the gentle Western slope they saw divine light and coloured clouds over some imposing buildings from which came the muffled sounds of bells and stone chimes.

“Look and see what that place is, disciples,” said Sanzang. Monkey raised his head, shaded his eyes with his hands, and on careful examination saw that it was a fine place:

Magnificent architecture,

A famous monastery.

The valley of emptiness is full of the earth's vibrations;

Heavenly fragrance pervades the stillness.

Rain in the bluish pines obscures the buildings;

Mist around the green bamboo protects the preaching hall.

Through coloured clouds one can make out the dragon palace;

The infinite worlds are seen in shimmering light.

Red balustrades and doors of marble,

Painted and carved beams.

Incense fills the hall in which the scriptures are taught;

The moon hangs over the window where the mysteries are passed on.

Birds sing in red trees,

Cranes drink from a spring in the rocks.

The flowers as fine as those of the Jetavana;

All the doors open on the brilliance of Sravasti.

Beside the towering buildings the gates face crags;

Slow is the rhythm of the bell and chime.

A light breeze blows into open windows,

And under the rolled-up curtains is a smoky haze.

Among the monks emotions are all calm;

Peace reigns in the absence of worldliness.

A land of immortals unsullied by earth's dust,

This splendid monastery of the pure land.

When he had taken a good look at it Monkey went back to report, “It's a monastery, Master, but for some reason there's something evil about the auspicious dhyana atmosphere. The place looks like the Thunder Monastery but the distance to here is wrong. Whatever we do we mustn't go rushing inside. If we do we may run into something nasty.”