When Sanzang awoke at dawn he dressed himself in his best vestments and said, “Wukong, I am going to the early audience to present our passport.”

“If you go by yourself, Master,” Monkey replied, “I'm afraid that you won't be able to manage. Let me go with you. Then I'll be able to find out about the evil in this country.”

“If you go you will refuse to pay homage,” said Sanzang, “and the king may well take it amiss.”

“I won't be seen,” said Monkey. “I'll go with you in secret and protect you.” This pleased Sanzang very much. He had told Pig and Friar Sand to look after the luggage and horse and was just about to set out when the superintendent of the hostel came in to see him. The superintendent was struck by the difference between vestments he wore this day compared with what he had been wearing the day before.

His cassock was of brocade, set with exotic gems;

On his head he wore a gold-topped Vairocana mitre.

He held a nine-ringed monastic staff

And hid a divine radiance in his breast.

The passport was fastened tightly to his body,

Wrapped in brocade inside another cloth.

He moved like an arhat come down to earth;

His face was truly that of a living Buddha.

When the superintendent had greeted Sanzang courteously he murmured into his ear advice against meddling in matters that were none of his business. Sanzang nodded and assented. The Great Sage stole to a place by the gate, said the words of a spell, shook himself and turned into the tiniest of insects that flew with a high-pitched hum to Sanzang's mitre.

Sanzang left the government hostel and headed straight for the palace.

Arriving at the palace gates Sanzang saw a eunuch officer to whom he bowed and said, “This humble monk has been sent by the Great Tang in the East to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven. Now that I have reached your distinguished country I must present my passport to be inspected and returned. I beg Your Excellency to report this to His Majesty.” This the eunuch duly did.

The king was very pleased. “A monk from afar must be a holy man,” he said, ordering that Sanzang be asked in. When the venerable elder had paid his respects at the foot of the steps of the throne hall he was invited to enter the hall and take a seat. Sanzang thanked the king and sat down. The king looked weak and enervated. When he raised his hands to make a polite salutation he could not do so properly, and he was incapable of continuous speech. His right was so blurred that he had to make several attempts to read the document that Sanzang handed to him before he could sign, seal and return it to the Tang Priest, who put it away again.

The king was just about to ask why they were fetching the scriptures when one of his aides reported, “His Excellency the Elder of the Nation is here.” Leaning on one of his young eunuch attendants the king struggled down from his throne to greet the Elder. Sanzang hastily got to his feet, stood to one side and looked round to see that the Elder of the Nation was an aged Taoist who advanced with a swagger towards the steps of the throne.

On his head he wore a goose-yellow silken cap,

Round his body a scented cloak of silk and crane feathers,

And at his waist a triple sash of blue velvet.

On his feet were sandals of hemp and grasscloth;

At the top of his rattan stick coiled a dragon.

The pouch at his chest was embroidered with dragon, phoenix and flowers.

His jadelike face radiated well-being;

A gray beard blew about his chin.

Flames shot from golden pupils

In eyes even longer than his eyebrows.

Clouds followed his steps

As he wandered through incense-laden mists.

The officials below the steps received him with obeisances,

Announcing the presence of the Elder of the Nation.

When he reached the throne hall the Elder of the Nation performed no obeisance but arrogantly strode straight in. The king leaned forward in a bow and said, “We are most fortunate that you have condescended to make your immortal way here, Elder of the Nation.” He ordered that an embroidered stool be set on his left for the Elder to sit on.

Taking a step forward Sanzang bowed and said, “Greetings, Elder of the Nation.” The Elder sat majestically on his seat, but instead of returning Sanzang's courtesy he turned to the king and asked, “Where's this monk from?”

“He has been sent by the Tang court in the East to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven,” the king replied, “and is here to present his passport for inspection.”

“The road West is dark and dismal,” said the Elder of the Nation with a smile. “There's nothing good about it.”

“The West has always been a land of bliss,” Sanzang replied. “How could it not be good?”

“There is an old saying we once heard that monks are disciples of the Buddha,” said the king. “I wonder whether it is true that by being a monk and turning to the Buddha one can live for ever.” When Sanzang heard this he put his hands together and replied:

“One who becomes a monk gets away from all kinds of causation. By understanding nature he learns that all dharmas are empty. Great wisdom is casual and drifts in non-living. The true secret is hidden; it wanders in extinction. When the three worlds are empty all origins are ordered; when the six sense-organs are purified all troubles are finished. To be resolute, single-minded and enlightened one must understand the heart. When the heart is purified it can shine alone; when the heart is sincere all regions are imbued with it. The true appearance has neither deficiency nor excess and can be seen in life. The images of illusion always decay. Why seek what is beyond one's lot? The way to enter meditation is through meritorious deeds and by sitting in silence; the root of cultivating one's conduct truly is charity and kindness. Great skill appears as clumsiness and knows that all deeds are achieved through inaction. The finest plans involve no calculation; everything must be left alone. It only needs one heart not to move for every action to be perfect. It is truly absurd to try to strengthen the male by drawing on the female and nonsensical to try to extend one's years by taking elixirs. The only essential is that all the causation of every speck of dust must be discarded and that every type of matter should be empty. Live plain and pure; let your desires be few. Then naturally you will enjoy life without end for ever.”

When the Elder of the Nation heard this he laughed at it. “Phooey,” he said, pointing at the Tang Priest, “phooey! You're talking a load of rubbish, monk. Fancy you talking about understanding nature, and you a member of the faith that preaches nirvana. You don't have any idea of where nature comes from. Sitting still like a dead tree to enter dhyana is wasted effort as far as self-cultivation and tempering are concerned. In the words of the saying,

Sit, sit, sit;

Your backside's split.

The fire's too hot;

Good that's not.

What you don't realize at all is this:

“One who cultivates immortality has strong bones; one who attains the Way has the most magical spirit. Carrying his bowl and ladle he goes into the mountains to visit his friends; he picks every kind of herb to succor humanity. He makes a rainhat from immortal flowers, plucks the fragrant orchid to make his bed. He sings, claps and dances, then goes to sleep. When expounding the Way he teaches the doctrines of the Supreme One; he eliminates the evil of the human world with holy water. He takes the finest breath of heaven and earth, gathers the essence of the sun and moon. By controlling the negative and positive forces he creates the elixir; through the mastery of fire and water the foetus is formed. On the sixteenth day of the month the negative is eliminated, hazily and obscurely. In the twenty-seventh day of winter the positive begins to grow, darkly and mysteriously. He gathers the herbs of each of the four seasons, refining his elixir to nourish the nine transformations. Astride his blue phoenix he ascends to the purple palace; riding his white crane he goes to the jasper capital. He visits all the splendors of Heaven, showing the efficacy of the wonderful Way. Just compare it with the dhyana teachings of your Sakyamuni, your elimination of atman and your nirvana that enables you to shuffle off your stinking husk. None of this lifts you out of the worldly dust. Among the Three Teachings it is supreme; the Way alone has always been esteemed.”