Sanzang dismounted and the four of them went in through the curtain wall outside the gates. Noticing an old soldier sleeping shielded from the wind under the South-facing wall, Brother Monkey went up to him, shook him and said, “Sir!”

When the old soldier awoke with a start to open his bleary eyes and see Monkey he fell to his knees to kowtow and say, “My Lord!”

“There's no need for such alarm,” said Monkey. “I'm no evil god, so why call me your lord?”

“Aren't you Lord Thunder God?” the old soldier asked, kowtowing again.

“What a thing to say,” Monkey replied. “We're monks from the East on our way to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven. We've just arrived here. Could I ask what this place is called?” This answer finally eased the old soldier's mind.

With a yawn he got back on his feet, stretched and said, “Please forgive me, reverend gentlemen. This country used to be called Bhiksuland but its name has been changed to Boytown.”

“Do you have a king?” Monkey asked.

“Yes, yes,” the old soldier replied.

Monkey then turned to report to the Tang Priest, “This country used to be called Bhiksuland but the name's been altered to Boytown, though I don't know what the change signifies.”

“If it was Bhiksuland before why is it Boytown now?” the Tang Priest wondered.

“I expect there was a King Bhiksu who died,” said Pig, “and they changed the name to Boytown when a boy succeeded him.”

“Impossible,” said the Tang Priest, “impossible. Let's go in and make some enquiries in the street.”

“That's right,” said Friar Sand. “The old soldier wouldn't have known anyhow, and on top of that elder brother gave him such a fright that he talked nonsense. We'll ask some more questions in the city.”

When they had gone through the third pair of gates they came to a great market on a main street. The people were well-dressed and their bearing distinguished.

A hubbub of voices came from bar and music hall;

High hung the curtains outside splendid shop and teahouse.

Business was good in firms by the thousand;

Wealth flowed free in shopping street and market.

The dealers in metal and silk were swarming like ants,

Caring only for money while struggling for fame and wealth.

With these noble manners, magnificent scenery

And peaceful waters it was a time of prosperity.

The master and his three disciples, who were leading the horse and carrying the baggage, spent some time walking around the streets as they admired the general air of prosperity. In the entrance to every house there was a basketwork coop of the sort geese are kept in. “Disciples,” said Sanzang, “why do all the people here put coops in their gateways?” Pig's response to this was to look around and see that there were indeed lines of coops hung with satin curtains of many colours. “Master,” said the idiot with a smile, “today must be a lucky one for weddings and celebrations. Everybody's having a wedding.”

“Nonsense,” said Monkey. “How could every single family possibly be having a wedding? There must be some other reason for this. I'm going over to take a look.”

“You're not to go,” said Sanzang, grabbing hold of him. “You look so ugly that people might take offence.”

“I'll go as something else,” Brother Monkey replied.

Making a spell with his hands the splendid Great Sage said the words of a spell, shook himself, turned into a bee, spread his wings, flew to one of the coops and slipped in through the curtains to take a look. A little boy was sitting inside. Monkey looked inside another family's coop and there was a child in that too. He inspected eight or nine households and all of them had a child. All were boys: there was not a single girl. Some were sitting up in their coops and playing and some were crying; some were eating fruit and some were snoozing.

His inspection over, Monkey turned back into his normal self and reported to the Tang Priest, “There are little boys in the coops. The oldest is under six and the youngest only four. I don't know why they're here.” Sanzang wondered what the explanation could be.

Turning a comer they saw the gateway to an official building. It was a government hostel with golden pavilions. The venerable elder was delighted.

“Disciples,” he said, “we will go into this hostel. We can find out where we are, give the horse a rest and put up for the night.”

“Yes, that's right,” said Friar Sand. “Let's go straight in.” This the four of them happily did, a fact that the officials there reported to the hostel's superintendent.

When the superintendent had led them inside greetings had been exchanged and they had all sat down, the superintendent asked, “Where have you come from, reverend sir?”

“I am a monk sent by the Great Tang in the East to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven,” Sanzang replied. “Now that we have arrived at this excellent establishment I will of course present my passport for inspection. Could we, I wonder, impose on your hospitality for the night?”

The superintendent ordered tea, and when it had been drank he saw to their entertainment and told the staff who were on duty to look after the pilgrims. After thanking him for this Sanzang went on to ask, “Could we go to the palace today to see His Majesty and have our passport inspected?”

“That will not be possible this evening,” the superintendent replied. “It will have to wait until tomorrow morning. I hope that you will spend a comfortable night in this humble hostel.”

A little later, when all had been prepared, the superintendent of the hostel invited the four travelers to take a vegetarian meal with him. He also told his staff to sweep out the guest rooms for them to spend the night in. Sanzang expressed endless gratitude. When they were all seated the venerable elder said, “I wonder if I could trouble you for information on something that I cannot understand. How do you raise children in your country?”

“People are the same the whole world over, just as there are never two suns in the sky,” the superintendent replied. “Children are born when their time comes after the father's seed has joined with the mother's blood and they have been in the womb for ten lunar months. After they are born they are suckled for three years and their bodies gradually grow. Everybody knows that.”

“What you tell me is no different from how they grow in my humble country,” Sanzang replied. “But when we came into the city we saw a goose coop with a little boy inside in front of every house in the street. This is something I cannot understand, which is why I ventured to raise the question.”

“Ignore that, reverend sir,” whispered the hostel superintendent into Sanzang's ear. “Don't ask about it. Put it out of your mind. Don't even mention it. Would you like to settle down for the night before starting your journey again tomorrow morning?” Sanzang's response was to seize hold of the superintendent and demand an explanation.

“Watch your words,” the superintendent replied, shaking his head and wagging his finger, but Sanzang was not going to drop the matter. He insisted on being told all the details. The superintendent had no choice but to dismiss all the staff on duty.

When they were alone under the lamplight he whispered to Sanzang, “The goose coops you asked about are there because our king is a bad ruler. Why ever do you have to keep asking about it?”

“How is he a bad ruler?” Sanzang asked. “I will not be able to set my mind at ease until you give me an explanation.”

“This country is really called Bhiksuland,” the superintendent replied. “Boytown is only what the people have started calling it. Three years ago an old man dressed as a Taoist came here with a girl just fifteen years old. She was a ravishing beauty, just like a Bodhisattva Guanyin. He presented her to our present king, who was so smitten by her charms that she became the favorite of all his women. She was given the title Queen Beauty. For some time now he's had no eyes for any of his other queens or consorts. He's so insatiable that he's been at it day and night. The result is nervous exhaustion and physical collapse. He's eating and drinking next to nothing. He might die at any moment. The Royal College of Physicians has tried every possible medicine without any success. The Taoist who presented the girl to the king was rewarded with the title of Elder of the Nation. He has a secret foreign formula for making people live a great deal longer. He's been to ten continents and the three magic islands to collect the ingredients. Everything is ready. The only problem is that it needs a terrible adjuvant to help it-a potion made from the hearts of 1,111 little boys. When he's taken it he'll have a thousand years of vigorous life ahead of him. All the little boys being kept in the coops are the ones that have been chosen. Their parents are so afraid of the king that none of them dares weep. That's why they've put out the story that this place is now called Boytown. When you go to the palace tomorrow morning, reverend sir, you must only present your passport to be inspected and returned. Say nothing about any of this.” When he had said all this he left them.