Chapter 84

The Indestructible Proteges of the Buddha Complete Enlightenment

The Dharma King Comes to the Truth Through His Own Nature

The story tells how Tang Sanzang kept his masculine essence intact and escaped from the terrible snare of mist and flowers. As he headed Westwards with Brother Monkey he did not notice that it was already summer: warm breezes were beginning to blow, and the early summer rain was falling. It was a beautiful sight:

Dark is the shade under tender green;

In the gentle breeze the swallows lead their young.

New lotus leaves are opening on the ponds;

Elegant bamboo is gradually reviving.

The fragrant plants join their blue to the sky;

Mountain flowers carpet all the ground.

Beside the stream the rushes are like swords;

The fiery pomegranate blossom makes the picture even more magnificent.

As the master and his three disciples traveled along enduring the heat they suddenly noticed two rows of tall willows, from under the shade of which an old woman emerged, leaning on a small boy. “Don't go any further, monk,” she called out. “Stop your horse and go back East as soon as you can. The road West leads nowhere.”

This gave Sanzang so bad a fright that he sprang off the horse, made a gesture of greeting and said, “Venerable Bodhisattva, in the words of the ancients,

'The sea's breadth allows the fish to leap;

The sky's emptiness lets birds fly.'

How could there possibly be no way to the West?” To this the old woman replied, pointing Westwards, “If you go that way you will come to the capital of Dharmadestructia in a couple of miles. The king formed a hatred of Buddhism in an earlier existence, and in his present life he is punishing it without just cause. Two years ago he made a monstrous vow to kill ten thousand Buddhist monks. In that time he's killed 9,996 unknown monks in succession. He's just waiting for four famous monks to make up his ten thousand so that he will fulfil the vow. If you go into the city you will be throwing away your lives for nothing.”

At the sound of this Sanzang was so terrified that he shivered and shook as he replied, “Venerable Bodhisattva, I am deeply moved by your great kindness and infinitely grateful too. But, tell me, is there a suitable way I could take that does not go into the city?”

“There's no way round,” the old woman replied with a laugh, “no way round. The only way you'll get past it is if you can fly.”

At this Pig started shooting his mouth off from where he stood beside them: “Don't try to put us off. We can all fly.”

Monkey's fiery eyes with their golden pupils really could distinguish good from evil, and he saw that the old woman and the little boy on whom she was leaning were in fact the Bodhisattva Guanyin and the page Sudhana. He hastily flung himself to the ground and began to kowtow, calling out, “Bodhisattva, your disciple failed to welcome you. I'm sorry.”

The Bodhisattva then rose slowly on her multicolored cloud, so startling the venerable elder that his legs gave way under him and he kowtowed as he knelt there for all he was worth. Pig and Friar Sand also fell to their knees in alarm and kowtowed to heaven. A moment later she was heading straight back to the Southern Sea amid auspicious clouds.

Monkey then got up and supported his master as he said, “Get up please. The Bodhisattva's already gone back to her island.”

“Wukong,” Sanzang said, “if you knew she was the Bodhisattva why did you not say so before?”

“You ask too many questions,” Monkey replied with a grin. “When I started kowtowing wasn't that early enough?”

“It was lucky the Bodhisattva told us that Dharmadestructia, where they kill monks, is ahead of us,” Pig and Friar Sand said to Monkey. “Whatever are we to do?”

“Don't be afraid, idiot,” Monkey replied. “We've come to no harm from any of the vicious demons and evil monsters we've met already or in the tigers' dens and dragons' pools we've been in. This is just a country of ordinary people. What's there to be so scared of? The only thing is that we can't stay here. It's getting late in the day and some of the villagers are coming back from market in the town. It will be no good if they see we're monks and raise a hue and cry. We'd better take the master away from the main road to some quiet and secluded spot where we can discuss things.” Sanzang accepted Monkey's suggestion and they slipped away from the main road to a hollow in the ground where they sat down.

“Brother,” said Monkey, “you two look after the master while I turn myself into something and go into town to take a look around. I'll find a side road that we can get away along tonight.”

“Disciple,” said Sanzang, “don't take this lightly. The royal law is implacable. You must be careful.”

“Don't worry,” said Monkey with a smile, “don't worry. I can cope.”

This said, the Great Sage leapt whistling up into the air. It was very strange:

No rope to hold on to above,

No pole to support him below.

Others are all like their parents,

But the weight of his bones was low.

As he stood in the clouds looking down he saw that the city was full of the most happy and auspicious atmosphere. “What a splendid place,” Monkey said. “Why are they trying to destroy the Dharma here?” He looked around for a while, and in the gathering dusk he saw:

Bright lights at the crossroads,

Incense and bells in the ninefold hall.

The seven brightest stars shone in the blue heavens,

And the travelers stopped moving in all eight directions.

From the army barracks

The painted bugle could just be heard;

In the drum tower

The copper water-clock began to drip.

All around the evening mists were dense;

Cold fog was thick in the markets.

Two by two the couples went to their beds

As the bright moon's disk was rising in the East.

“If I went down into the streets to look for our way with a face like this,” he thought, “anyone I saw would be sure I was a monk. I'd better change.” He made a spell with his hands, said the magic words, shook himself and turned into a moth, the sort that flies into the lantern:

A tiny body, a pair of delicate wings,

Who puts out the lamp and flies into the candle when seeking the light.

Formed by changing its own original body,

It makes its magic response in grass that's decaying.

Loving the burning light of the candle's flame,

Endlessly flying around it with never a pause,

The purple-clad moth with its scented wings drives off the fireflies;

What it likes best is the windless calm of the night.

Watch him as he flutters and flies straight to the main streets and the markets, keeping close to the eaves and the corners of the buildings he passes. As he was flying along he noticed an angled row of houses on a corner with a lantern hanging above each doorway.

“They must be celebrating the Lantern Festival here,” he thought. “Why else is that line of lighted lanterns there?” Stiffening his wings and flying up for a closer look, he saw that on a square lantern outside the middle house was written, “Accommodation for Commercial Travelers,” with “Wang the Second's Inn ” beneath it. Only then did Monkey realize that this was an inn. Stretching his head forward for a closer look he saw eight or nine men inside who had all eaten their supper, taken off their clothes and hats, washed their hands and feet and gone to bed.