Chapter 12

The Tang Sovereign Keeps Faith and Holds the Grand Mass; Guanyin Reveals Her Divinity and Marks the Golden Cicada

Now the ghost runners went out of the dark courts with Liu Quan and his wife. Through the coiling wind of the dead they came to the great land of Chang'an, thrust Liu Quan's soul into the Golden Pavilion hostelry, and carried Cuilian's soul into the inner courts of the palace. There was Princess Yuying walking slowly over the green moss in the shade of the flowers; the ghost runners ran full into her, knocked her to the ground, seized her soul alive, and pushed Cuilian's soul into Yuying's body. The ghost runners returned to the dark courts—no more of that.

Now the maids of the palace, great and small, saw Yuying fall dead, and ran in haste to the Golden Bell Hall to tell the empress of the three palaces: “The princess has fallen down dead!” The empress, greatly startled, told Taizong. Hearing it, Taizong nodded and sighed: “So it was true, then. I asked the ten kings of the underworld: 'Are the old and young of my palace well?' They said: 'All are well; only we fear your sister's years are short.' And their words have come to pass.” The whole palace came weeping; but when they all looked under the shade of the flowers, the princess still breathed faintly. The Tang sovereign said: “Do not weep! Do not weep! Do not startle her.” He stepped forward, raised her head with his own imperial hand, and called: “Sister, wake, wake!” The princess suddenly turned over and cried: “Husband, walk slowly—wait for me!” Taizong said: “Sister, it is we who are here.” The princess lifted her head, opened her eyes, and looked: “Who are you, to dare lay hands on me?” Taizong said: “It is your imperial brother and your imperial sister.” The princess said: “I have no imperial brother and no imperial sister. My family name is Li, and my milk-name was Li Cuilian. My husband's surname is Liu, his given name Quan; we are both of Junzhou. It was because three months ago I pulled a gold hairpin from my head at the gate to feed a monk that my husband took offense, saying I had gone out of the inner rooms against a wife's propriety, and he cursed me. My breath stopped in my chest, and I hanged myself from the beam with a white silk sash, leaving a son and daughter behind, who wept for me day and night. Now my husband was sent under the Tang sovereign's own seal to carry melons and fruit down to the dark courts; the kings pitied us and let husband and wife come home. He walked on ahead; I was late, could not catch him, and took a fall. You people have no manners! Not even knowing my name, how dare you grab me?” Hearing this, Taizong said to the palace people: “She must have been knocked half senseless by her fall—she is talking wildly.” He gave the order that the medical office serve her broth and medicine, and Yuying was helped into the palace.

The Tang sovereign was in the hall when the officer on duty came to report: “Your Majesty, the melon-bearer Liu Quan has come back to life and waits outside the gate for your word.” The Tang sovereign was astonished and at once summoned Liu Quan in, and he prostrated himself on the vermilion steps. Taizong asked: “How went the matter of the melons and fruit?” Liu Quan said: “I bore the melons and fruit straight to Ghost Gate Pass and was led up to the Senluo Hall, where I came before the ten kings and presented the melons and fruit, and told them fully how earnestly our sovereign wished to give thanks. The kings were overjoyed and sent Your Majesty a thousand greetings, saying: 'Truly an emperor of good faith and virtue, this Taizong!'” The Tang sovereign said: “And what did you see in the dark courts?” Liu Quan said: “I did not travel far, and saw nothing much. I only heard the kings ask my native place and my name, and I told them the whole story—how I gave up my home and parted from my children because my wife had hanged herself, and how I wished to bring the melons. They quickly sent ghost runners to fetch my wife, and we met beneath the Senluo Hall itself. Then they looked into the register of death and life and said that my wife and I both had lifespans to reach immortality, and sent us back with the runners. I walked in front and my wife behind, and by good fortune we came back to life. Only I do not know where she was reborn.” The Tang sovereign asked in astonishment: “Did the kings say anything of your wife?” Liu Quan said: “The kings said nothing. I only heard the ghost runners say: 'Li Cuilian has been long in the dark land, and her body is gone.' And the king said: 'The Tang emperor's sister Li Yuying is due to die any day; let Cuilian borrow Yuying's body and return to life in it.' I do not know what place this 'Tang emperor's sister' is, or where she lives—I have not yet been able to look for her.”

When the Tang sovereign heard this report his heart filled with joy, and he said to the assembled officials: “When I took leave of the kings I asked after the affairs of my palace. They said: 'All are well, old and young; only we fear your sister's years are short.' And just now my sister Yuying fell dead in the shade of the flowers. I hurried to raise her, and in a moment she woke, crying: 'Husband, walk slowly—wait for me!' I thought her senses had been knocked loose and she talked wildly. But I asked her for the details, and her words and Liu Quan's are one.” Wei Zheng reported: “Your sister's years were briefly cut, and the moment she woke she spoke these words: this is the matter of Liu Quan's wife borrowing a corpse to return to life. Such things do happen. Let the princess be brought out, and let us hear what she says.” The Tang sovereign said: “I have just sent the medical office in with medicine; I do not know how it goes.” He sent the consorts in to call her. From within the princess was shouting: “What medicine would I take? This is no house of mine! My home is a cool cottage with tiled roof, not this jaundiced-looking house with its gaudy painted doors! Let me out! Let me out!”

While she was still shouting, four or five lady officials and two or three eunuchs came supporting her, and she was brought straight up into the hall. The Tang sovereign said: “Do you know your husband?” Yuying said: “What talk is this! We two have been hair-bound husband and wife since we were young; I bore him sons and daughters—how would I not know him?” The Tang sovereign ordered the palace officers to lead her down. The princess came down from the jeweled hall, straight to the white jade steps, saw Liu Quan, and seized him: “Husband, where are you going that you will not wait for me? I took a fall, and these unreasonable people have surrounded me and shouted at me—what is the meaning of this?” Liu Quan heard his wife's very words, but looked upon not his wife's face, and dared not own her. The Tang sovereign said: “It is just as the saying goes: mountains may crash and earth split, and there are witnesses; but to seize the living to stand in for the dead is rarely met with.” What a sovereign of the Way! He bestowed on Liu Quan all the princess's trousseau, her clothes and her ornaments, as if it were her dowry, and gave him besides an edict exempting him forever from levy and corvée, and ordered the sister and her husband home again. Before the steps the two of them thanked the grace, and went joyfully back to their village. There is a poem to prove it:

A man may die or live—it is a former karma; each has his term, the short and the long.Liu Quan carried melons and came back to the world of light; Li Cuilian borrowed a corpse, and her soul came home.

They took leave of the sovereign and came straight into Junzhou city, and found the old estate and the children all well; and the two of them proclaimed abroad the fruits of goodness—no more of that.

Now Yuchi Gong carried the vault of silver and gold up to Kaifeng prefecture in Henan to seek Xiang Liang out. It turned out that Xiang Liang lived by selling water, and he and his wife Zhang made their living at the gate selling black clay basins and earthenware. Whatever coin they earned, they counted their travel money enough, and of the rest they fed monks and gave alms, bought gold and silver paper ingots, and burned them with a record at the storehouse—hence such fruits of goodness had fallen to their lot. In the world of light he was a poor man who loved goodness; in the other world he was an elder heaped with jade and piled with gold. Yuchi Gong brought the silver and gold up to his gate, and fright knocked the souls out of the old man and his wife; and there were the officials of the prefecture besides, carriages and horses crowding outside the thatched hut. The old couple sat like fools, like mutes, kneeling on the ground, only kowtowing and bowing. Yuchi Gong said: “Elders, rise, if you please. I am an officer under the imperial seal, but it is my sovereign's silver and gold I bring, to repay you.” Trembling they answered: “Your humble servants have no silver out at usury; how dare we take this unexplained wealth?” Yuchi Gong said: “I have found out that you are a poor man. But you fed monks and gave alms with all you could spare, and even bought gold and silver paper ingots, burned them and lodged the record in the dark courts; and in the dark courts there is money you have stored. Our emperor Taizong was dead three days and came back to life; and in those dark courts he borrowed one vault of your silver and gold. Now it is returned to you by the same count. Take it piece by piece, so that I may go back and report.” The old couple only bowed toward heaven, and dared not take it. They said: “If we take this silver and gold we shall die the sooner. True, it was paper burned and lodged on record—but that is a matter of the unseen dark. And when His Majesty borrowed silver in the other world, where is the proof of it? We positively dare not take it.” Yuchi Gong said: “His Majesty says there is Judge Cui's surety to prove the borrowing. Take it, I beg you.” Xiang Liang said: “Rather than take it, we would die.”

Seeing them refuse so stubbornly, Yuchi Gong could only draw up a memorial and send a man to report. When Taizong read it and learned that Xiang Liang would not take the silver and gold, he said: “Truly a good and kindly elder.” He gave orders that Hu Jingde should use the silver and gold to repair a monastery and raise a shrine while the man still lived, and engage monks to do good works, and let that stand for repayment. When the edict arrived, Jingde bowed toward the palace, thanked the grace, and proclaimed it, and all men knew of it. With the silver and gold he bought a plot of ground inside the city, clear of the claims of soldiers and citizens, fifty mu about, and raised a work upon it, founding a monastery named the Imperially Founded Xiangguo Monastery, with shrines to the old man and his wife on the left, and a stele cut in stone inscribed: Supervised by Yuchi Gong. This is the Daxiangguo Monastery of today.

The work finished, it was reported back, and Taizong rejoiced exceedingly. He then gathered the officials and posted a placard to recruit monks, to build the Land-and-Water Mass and rescue the lonely souls of the dark courts. The placard went out through the realm, with orders that the officials of every place recommend eminent monks possessed of the Way to come up to Chang'an for the mass. Within the month monks from all the realm had arrived. The Tang sovereign gave orders to the vice director of the astrological commission, Fu Yi, to choose out the eminent monks and establish the work of Buddha. Fu Yi, hearing the order, straightaway memorialized to suppress the Buddha's teaching, arguing there is no Buddha. The memorial said:

“The law of the Western Regions knows no sovereign and subject, no father and son; with its three evil paths and six ways it hoodwinks and beguiles the simple. It dredges up the sins of the past and dangles the blessings to come; the mouth recites Sanskrit words to slip free and escape. And yet life and death, long life and early death, arise from nature itself; punishment and reward, awe and favor, hang upon the sovereign of men. Now I hear vulgar fellows twisting and pretending that all this comes from Buddha. From the Five Emperors and the Three Kings down there was no law of Buddha, yet rulers were enlightened, ministers loyal, and reigns long. It was Emperor Ming of Han who first set up the barbarian god—and even then only the shamans of the Western Regions handed their teaching on among themselves. In truth it is the barbarian assailing the Middle Kingdom, and is not to be believed.”

Taizong took this memorial and cast it to the ministers for debate. Then Prime Minister Xiao Yu came out of the ranks, bowed low, and said: “The law of Buddha has flourished through dynasty after dynasty; it furthers good and curbs evil, and it aids the state in ways unseen. By reason it cannot be done away. The Buddha is a sage: he who denies a sage knows no law. I ask that he be dealt with by the sternest penalty.” Fu Yi disputed with Xiao Yu, saying: “Rites have their root in serving one's father and one's sovereign. The Buddha turned his back on his parents to leave the family, setting a common man up against the Son of Heaven, and against all propriety defying those who begot him. You, Xiao Yu, were not born of the hollow mulberry: you follow a fatherless teaching—exactly what is meant by 'he who is not filial has no parents.'” Xiao Yu only pressed his palms together and said: “Hell was built for just such men as these.” Taizong summoned the grand master of the imperial stables, Zhang Daoyuan, and the director of the secretariat, Zhang Shiheng, and asked what response the works of Buddha and blessing had shown. The two ministers answered: “The Buddha abides in purity, mercy, and forgiveness; the fruit is rectitude and the Buddha is emptiness. Emperor Wu of Zhou ranked the three teachings in order; the Chan Master Dahui praised the dark and the far, and through all the ages of offering it never failed to shine; the Fifth Patriarch entered a mother's womb, and Bodhidharma revealed his image. From of old it has been said that the three teachings are supreme, not to be destroyed and not to be abolished. We beg Your Majesty to weigh it with bright discernment.” Taizong was well pleased: “Your words accord with reason. Whoever argues further shall be punished.” He then ordered Wei Zheng, with Xiao Yu and Zhang Daoyuan, to invite the Buddhas and choose one monk of great virtue and conduct to be master of the altar, and to establish the place of practice. All bowed their heads, thanked the grace, and withdrew. From that time a law went out: whoever abused monks or slandered Buddha should lose his arm.

The next day the three court ministers gathered the monks together in the Altar of Hills and Streams and examined them one by one from the top, and among them they chose out one eminent monk of virtue and conduct. And who do you suppose he was?

His secret name in the world of light was Golden Cicada, lost because his mind wandered while the Buddha preached.Sent down to the dusty world to suffer grinding toil, he was born into common time to meet the net.Entering the womb, no sooner landed than evil met him; before he ever came forth, the wicked were near.His father was Chen, top graduate of Haizhou; his mother's father a commander-general, first of the reigning court.His birth-star was the Falling-Into-the-River Star; he went with the current, drifting wave upon wave.On the sea island's Golden Mountain a great karma waited; the monk Qian'an took him in and raised him.At eighteen he found his own true mother and set out for the capital to seek her father.The commander-general mustered a great army and crushed the bandits at Hongzhou, destroying the murderous gang.Top graduate Guangrui slipped free of heaven's net; father and son met—a thing worth congratulating.He waited again upon the reigning emperor and received his sovereign's grace; on the Pavilion of Lingering Smoke his worthy name resounds.He refused the favor of office, wishing to be a monk; at Broad Blessing he entered the gate and sought the Way.His child-name was River Float, a child of the ancient Buddhas; his dharma name is Chen Xuanzang.

That day they brought Master Xuanzang out before the assembly. This man had been a monk from childhood; from his mother's womb he had kept the vegetarian table and received the precepts. His mother's father was Yin Kaishan, commander-in-chief of the court; his father Chen Guangrui had taken first place in the examinations and been appointed grand academician of the Wenyuan Hall. His one heart had no love of glory and splendor, but only joy in quiet cultivation and extinction. Inquiry found his roots excellent and his conduct lofty: of the thousand sutras and ten thousand classics there was nothing he did not understand; of the chants of Buddha and the music of the immortals there was nothing he did not know.

Then the three ministers led him before the throne, bowing to the dust. When the bows were done they reported: “Your servants Xiao Yu and the rest, by sacred order, have chosen out one eminent monk, Chen Xuanzang.” Hearing the name, Taizong pondered a long while and said: “Is this Xuanzang, son of the academician Chen Guangrui?” River Float kowtowed and said: “I am he.” Taizong was delighted: “Indeed you have chosen rightly—a monk of virtue and of a Chan heart. I bestow on you the office of Monk Superior of the left, Monk Superior of the right, and Grand Coordinator of All the Monks of the realm.” Xuanzang bowed his head, thanked the grace, and took up the office of Grand Coordinator. There were bestowed on him besides one kasaya of five-colored woven gold and one Pilu cap. He was told to take pains to assemble the monks, set the teachers in order at the head of their ranks, write out the edict, go to Huasheng Monastery, choose an auspicious day and hour, and open the preaching of the sutras.

Xuanzang bowed again, received the order, and went out, and so came to Huasheng Monastery, where he gathered the monks, built the seats of meditation, fitted out the rites, and arranged the music. He chose bright monks great and small to the number of one thousand two hundred, assigned them to the upper, middle, and lower halls, and saw that everything before the Buddhas was complete and every place in its order. He fixed on the third day of the ninth month of that year, an auspicious day on the yellow path, to open the Land-and-Water Mass and hold it for seven sevens, forty-nine days; and he memorialized to that effect. Taizong, with the civil and military officials and the imperial kin, all came at the appointed time to attend the mass, offering incense and listening to the preaching. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

The dragon marks Zhenguan's thirteenth year; the king summons the great assembly to discourse upon the sutras.The place of practice opens and sets forth the measureless law; on cloud and mist the light rides the shrine of the great vow.The imperial edict extends its grace and raises the lofty monastery; the golden cicada slips its shell and turns toward the West.Goodness is bestowed on all to lift the drowned and sunken; holding the teaching they proclaim it, the three times, past and to come.

In the thirteenth year of Zhenguan, the year Jisi, on the day Jiaxu of the ninth month, the third day, at the fine hour of Guimao, Master Chen Xuanzang, Grand Coordinator of the Law, gathered his one thousand two hundred eminent monks in Huasheng Monastery in Chang'an, and they opened and expounded the wonderful sutras of every class. The emperor, morning court being done, led the civil and military officials, rode the phoenix carriage and dragon car out of the Golden Bell Hall, and came straight to the monastery to offer incense. And how did that royal procession look? Truly it was thus:

A skyful of auspicious vapor, ten thousand beams of blessed light. The wind of benevolence soft and drifting; the days of transformation fair beyond measure. A thousand officials with chiming pendants, before and behind; the five guards with banners ranked on either hand. Bearers of golden melons and lifters of axes and halberds, two by two and pair by pair; crimson-gauze candles and the incense of the imperial censer, dense and majestic. Dragons fly and phoenixes dance; the osprey commends and the eagle soars. The sagely enlightened Son of Heaven is upright; the loyal and righteous ministers are good. A thousand years of blessing, passing Shun and Yu; ten thousand generations of peace, outdoing Yao and Tang. And there: the curved-handle canopy, the robe of rolling dragons, radiance crossing radiance; the jade-linked rings, the fans of painted phoenixes, auspicious mist adrift. Crowns of pearl and belts of jade; purple cords and golden seals. A thousand squads of guards to shield the carriage; two files of outriders to steady it. This emperor, bathed and reverent, honors the Buddha; turned toward the good fruit, he gladly offers incense.

The Tang sovereign's carriage soon reached the monastery gate, and he ordered the music and instruments stilled. He descended from the carriage, led the ministers forward, bowed to the Buddha, and offered incense. When three circuits had been made he raised his eyes and looked: truly a fine place of practice. And this is what he saw:

Streamers flutter and dance; jeweled canopies fly with light. Streamers flutter and dance—across the void ripple on ripple of rainbow cloud; jeweled canopies fly with light—against the sun flicker beams of red lightning. The golden image of the World-Honored One, majestic in countenance; the jade faces of the arhats, awesome and bright. Vases set with immortal flowers; censers burning sandalwood and aloes. Vases set with immortal flowers—like trees of brocade gleaming through the monastery; censers burning sandalwood and aloes—clouds of incense drifting up through the clear empyrean. Fruits of the season fresh and new are piled on vermilion plates; sugar pastries of rare device are heaped upon the painted tables. The eminent monks in ranks recite the true sutras, praying to pluck the lonely souls out of suffering.

Taizong and the civil and military officials all offered incense, bowed before the golden body of the Buddha, and paid their respects to the arhats. Then the Grand Coordinator, Master Chen Xuanzang, led the monks in ranks to bow before the Tang sovereign. The rites done, they took their places by class, each at his seat of meditation, and the master presented to Taizong the placard for the rescue of the orphan souls. It read:

The virtue of the ultimate is dim and vast; the truth of Chan is silent extinction. Pure and all-penetrating, it circles the three worlds; with a thousand changes and ten thousand transforms it governs yin and yang. Its substance and its working are true and constant, without bound or end. Look upon those lonely souls: they deserve our deep compassion. By the sacred command of Taizong, monks are gathered here to practice Chan and expound the law; to open wide the gate of salvation, to launch far the boat of mercy, to rescue all beings in the sea of bitterness, and free the six orders from their grievous maladies; to lead them home on the true road, to range the primal vastness; in movement and stillness without effort, blended into pure simplicity. Relying on this fine karma, we pray for the reward of the azure capital and the crimson palaces; riding on our great assembly, may they escape the common cage of hell, mount early to the Ultimate Bliss and roam at ease, coming and going in the West as they please.

The poem says:

One censer of everlasting incense; a few scrolls of the register of rebirth.Boundless, the wonderful law is proclaimed; measureless, the grace of heaven pours down.Every grievance and sin is wiped away; every lonely soul walks out of prison.May our land and household be kept in peace, and all alike partake the blessing.

Taizong read it and rejoiced with all his heart, and said to the monks: “Keep your loyal red hearts, and by no means be remiss in this work of Buddha. When the labor is perfected, each of you shall have his portion of blessing; I will reward you richly—your pains shall not go empty.” The one thousand two hundred monks bowed their heads as one and thanked him. That day, when the three vegetarian meals were done, the Tang sovereign's carriage returned; at the full assembly of the seventh day he would be asked again to offer incense. By then the sky was growing dark, and the officials withdrew. And how fair was that evening? Look:

Over ten thousand li of open sky the last light falls pale; a few returning crows drop down to roost.Lamps fill the city, and the stir of men is quieted—just the hour when the Chan monks enter meditation.

One night's evening scene is set down. Early the next morning the master again ascended the seat and gathered the assembly to recite the sutras—no more of that.

Now Guanyin, the Bodhisattva of Mount Putuo in the Southern Sea, had received the Tathagata's command and was going through Chang'an in search of the good man who would fetch the scriptures; but day after day had passed and she had met no one truly virtuous. Suddenly she heard how Taizong was proclaiming good works, choosing eminent monks, and opening the great assembly; and she saw that the master of the altar was none other than the monk River Float—the child of Buddha descended out of the Land of Bliss, the very elder she had once escorted to his rebirth. The Bodhisattva rejoiced exceedingly. She took up the treasures the Buddha had given her and carried them up the great street to sell, with Moksa in attendance. And what treasures do you suppose they were? A kasaya, rare treasure of patterned brocade, and a tin staff with nine rings. She had also the three fillets—of gold, of binding, and of prohibition—concealed away carefully for later use; only the kasaya and the staff were offered for sale.

In Chang'an city there were dull monks who had not been chosen for the assembly, yet had a few strings of country cash. Seeing the Bodhisattva changed into the shape of a scabbed and scurvy wretch, in a tattered robe, barefoot and bareheaded, holding up a kasaya that blazed and glittered, one came up and asked: “You scabby monk, how much will you take for that kasaya?” The Bodhisattva said: “The kasaya is worth five thousand taels of silver, and the tin staff two thousand.” The dull monk laughed: “These two scabby fellows are madmen! Idiots! Two coarse things like that, and they ask seven thousand taels of silver? Unless putting them on made a man live forever and turned him into a Buddha and a patriarch, they would not be worth half of that! Take them away! There is no sale!”

The Bodhisattva did not argue with him, but walked on with Moksa. They went a good while and came before the Gate of Eastern Glory, where they met Prime Minister Xiao Yu returning from court, his outriders clearing the street. The Bodhisattva stood boldly in the way, kasaya in hand, straight in the prime minister's path. Xiao Yu reined in his horse and looked: the kasaya blazed and glittered. He sent a man to ask the seller her price. The Bodhisattva said: “The kasaya is five thousand taels, the tin staff two thousand.” Xiao Yu said: “What virtue has it, to be priced so high?” The Bodhisattva said: “The kasaya has its virtues and its faults; there are times it takes money, and times it takes none.” Xiao Yu said: “What is virtue in it? What is fault?” The Bodhisattva said: “Whoever wears my kasaya does not sink into perdition, does not fall into hell, does not meet calamity of venom, nor disaster of tigers and wolves: that is its virtue. But the greedy and lustful dull monk who loves mischief, the monk who keeps neither fast nor precepts, the common man who burns the sutras and slanders Buddha—such cannot so much as see the face of my kasaya: that is its fault.” He asked again: “And when does it take money, and when not?” The Bodhisattva said: “Whoever does not keep the Buddha's law, does not revere the Three Treasures, and forces a purchase—I will insist on seven thousand taels: that is taking money. But whoever reveres the Three Treasures, rejoices at the sight of goodness, takes refuge in our Buddha, and can bear the weight of such a thing—I will gladly give him kasaya and staff and count it a good karma: that is taking none.” Xiao Yu heard, and his face grew twice as bright as spring, for he knew this was a good man. He dismounted at once and greeted the Bodhisattva with courtesy: “Great Elder of the Law, forgive Xiao Yu his offense. Our emperor of the Tang loves goodness dearly, and there is not one in all the court who does not follow it. At this very moment the Land-and-Water Mass is being established, and this kasaya is just the thing for Master Chen Xuanzang, the Grand Coordinator, to wear. Come with me to court to see the emperor.”

The Bodhisattva gladly followed, turned her steps, and went straight in through the Gate of Eastern Glory. The gate officer reported, and by edict they were summoned to the jeweled hall. There stood Xiao Yu with the two scabby monks at the foot of the steps. The Tang sovereign asked: “Xiao Yu, what matter brings you?” Xiao Yu bowed before the steps and said: “Coming out of the Gate of Eastern Glory I happened upon two monks selling a kasaya and a tin staff. It seemed to me Master Xuanzang might wear such a garment, and so I have led the monks in to present them.” Taizong was overjoyed and asked the price of the kasaya. The Bodhisattva and Moksa stood in attendance below the steps and made no bow at all; asked the kasaya's price, she answered: “The kasaya five thousand taels, the tin staff two thousand.” Taizong said: “What virtue has that kasaya, that it is worth so much?” The Bodhisattva said:

This kasaya: let a dragon wear one thread of it, and he escapes the doom of the great roc's devouring; let a crane hang one wisp of it, and he wins the wonder of passing beyond the world into sagehood.Wherever its wearer sits, ten thousand gods come to do him court; at his every movement seven Buddhas walk beside him.This kasaya was drawn and spun from the silk of the ice-silkworm, twisted by cunning craftsmen into thread, woven by immortal maidens, finished upon the looms of goddesses, square after square of clustered cloth stitched with embroidered flowers.Piece laid to piece they pile like heaped brocade; delicate and scattered they vie in woven blossoms; their colors blaze and glitter, spraying jewel-light.Put on, it wraps the body round in drifting red mist; taken off, a stretch of rainbow cloud flies away.Beyond the gates of the three heavens it lets through the dark radiance; before the peaks of the Five Mountains it raises an air of treasure.Layer upon layer are set the lotus flowers of the West; dazzling hang pearls in the likeness of the stars.At its four corners glow night-luminous pearls; at the crown of it is set a single emerald.Though it cannot wholly show the original body, it has the clustered shining of the eight treasures.This kasaya is folded away in idle times and worn only when a sage appears. Folded away in idle times, its thousandfold wrappings let through the rainbow; worn when a sage appears, it startles all the heavens, and gods and ghosts stand in fear.On it are the As-You-Will Pearl, the Mani Pearl, the Dust-Repelling Pearl, the Wind-Settling Pearl; and there are red agate, purple coral, night-luminous pearls, and relics of the Buddha.It drinks the moon's white till it glows, and vies with the sun in red; strand upon strand immortal breath fills the sky, and blossom upon blossom auspicious light bears up the sage.Strand upon strand immortal breath fills the sky, shining clear through the gates of heaven; blossom upon blossom auspicious light bears up the sage, casting its shade over all the world.It shines upon the mountains and rivers and startles tiger and leopard; it shadows the islands of the sea and stirs the fish and dragons.Along its edges run two borders of melted gold; at its collar white jade links are joined in a ring.

The poem says:

The Three Treasures stand towering, and the Way is to be honored; the four births and the six paths are all weighed there.The clear heart knows how to nourish the law of men and gods; the nature seen hands on the lamp of wisdom.It guards the body, solemn as a world of gold; body and mind are clean as ice in a jug of jade.Since the Buddha decreed the kasaya, through ten thousand kalpas who has dared unrobe a monk?”

On the jeweled hall the Tang sovereign heard this and rejoiced exceedingly. He asked again: “Monk, what virtue has the nine-ring staff?” The Bodhisattva said: “My tin staff is this:

Nine rings, of copper set and iron wrought; nine joints of immortal rattan keep their color forever.In the hand it tires of nothing, gaunt of bone and lean; down the mountain it goes lightly, carrying the white cloud home.The great Fifth Patriarch roamed the gates of heaven with it; Luobu sought his mother and broke through the gates of the earth with it.It is stained with no speck of the red dust's filth; gladly it goes with the divine monk up the mountain of jade.”

Hearing this, the Tang sovereign ordered the kasaya unrolled and examined it through from end to end: truly a fine thing. He said: “Great Elder of the Law, I will not hide it from you. I have now opened wide the teaching of goodness and planted the fields of blessing on every side, and monks are gathered at Huasheng Monastery to expound the sutras. Among them is one of great virtue and conduct, whose dharma name is Xuanzang. I would buy these two treasures of yours and bestow them on him for his use. What price do you truly ask?” Hearing this, the Bodhisattva and Moksa pressed their palms together in refuge, uttered the name of Buddha, bowed, and made answer: “Since he is a man of such virtue, this poor monk gladly gives them, and will take no money.” With that she turned to go. The Tang sovereign hastily had Xiao Yu hold her back, and stood on the hall, bowing slightly, and said: “You first asked five thousand taels for the kasaya and two thousand for the staff; now, seeing that I wish to buy, you will take nothing. Do you mean to say that I, trusting in my throne, force your goods from you by power? There is no such thing. I will pay your first price in full; you may not evade it.” The Bodhisattva raised her hands: “This poor monk made a vow beforehand: I said that if there were one who revered the Three Treasures, rejoiced at the sight of goodness, and took refuge in our Buddha, I would take no money but gladly give them to him. Now I see Your Majesty bright in virtue and perfect in goodness, honoring our Buddha's gate; and the eminent monk besides is rich in virtue and conduct, proclaiming the great law. It is right that I present them, and I will take no money. Your poor monk begs to leave these things and withdraw.” Seeing such earnest devotion, the Tang sovereign rejoiced greatly. He ordered the Court of Imperial Entertainments to lay out a great vegetarian banquet in thanks. The Bodhisattva again firmly declined and would not stay, and went off in high spirits, back to her hiding in the city's Earth God temple—no more of that.

Now Taizong held noon court and sent Wei Zheng bearing the edict to summon Xuanzang. The master was at that moment gathering the assembly upon the platform, chanting the sutras and reciting the hymns; hearing the summons he came down at once, dressed, and went with Wei Zheng to see the emperor. Taizong said: “To further this good work we have troubled the master, and have nothing wherewith to repay him. This morning Xiao Yu met two monks who gladly offered a kasaya of rare patterned treasure and a tin staff of nine rings. We have now called the master to come and take them for his use.” Xuanzang kowtowed and thanked the grace. Taizong said: “If the master does not disdain, put it on and let us see.” The elder shook out the kasaya and draped it over his body, took the tin staff in his hand, and stood before the steps. Sovereign and ministers rejoiced, every one of them. Truly a child of the Tathagata. Look at him:

Awesomely handsome his face, elegant and fine; the Buddha's robe fits him as if cut for his body.Its radiance blazes and fills heaven and earth; its knots of color cluster and gather in the universe.Bright the pearls that are ranked above and below; layer upon layer the gold threads run before and behind.Fine cotton borders all four sides with a brocade hem; ten thousand rare devices spread silk and embroidery over it.Eight treasures wrought as flowers bind the button-silk; a gold ring gathers the collar and climbs the woolen clasps.Buddhas of heaven, great and small, are ranked in their places; the stars and figures, honored and humble, stand to left and right.Master Xuanzang has great karma, and this thing before him he is fit to bear.He is like a living arhat of the Land of Bliss, outshining the true awakened beauty of the West.His staff rings and chimes, vying with its nine rings; his Pilu cap shines back, full and abundant.Truly a child of Buddha, and no idle tale; fairer than Bodhi, without fraud or falsehood.

Then before the steps the civil and military officials shouted their applause. Taizong's joy was more than he could hold: he ordered the master to wear the kasaya and carry the precious staff, gave him two squads of retinue, had the ministers escort him out the palace gate, and told him to parade down the great avenue and so return to the monastery—just like a new top graduate riding in state through the streets. Xuanzang bowed again and thanked the grace, and down the great avenue he went, blazing and splendid, swaying in state. In Chang'an city, traveling merchants and settled traders, princelings and noble scions, poets and scholars, men and women great and small—all pressed forward to look, crying: “What a master! Truly a living arhat come down from heaven, a living Bodhisattva walking among men!”

Xuanzang came to the monastery, and the monks left their seats to meet him. At the sight of that kasaya upon him and that staff in his hand they cried that Ksitigarbha himself had come, and all took refuge and waited upon him at either side. Xuanzang went up into the hall, lit incense, and worshipped the Buddha; then, having told the assembly of the imperial grace, each returned to his seat. The red wheel of the sun sank westward unawares. Truly it was:

The sun goes down and mist bewilders grass and trees; in the imperial capital the bells and drums first sound. Ding-dong, three strokes, and foot travelers cease; the streets before and behind are still.The lofty monastery blazes with its lamps; the lonely village lies cold and soundless. The Chan monk in meditation turns the sutras over—just the hour to tame the demons and nourish the nature.

Time flew between the finger-tips, and the great assembly of the seventh day arrived. Xuanzang memorialized again, asking the Tang sovereign to come and offer incense. By this time the sound of goodness filled the realm. Taizong put his carriage in order, and with the civil and military officials, the consorts and the imperial kin, went early to the monastery. And the whole city, great and small, honored and humble, came to the monastery to hear the preaching.

Then the Bodhisattva said to Moksa: “Today is the great assembly proper of the Land-and-Water Mass; with one seven to conclude the seven sevens, it may be finished. Let us two mingle in the crowd: first, to see how the assembly is conducted; second, to see whether Golden Cicada is worthy to wear my treasure; third, to hear which school of the law he preaches.” The two of them went into the monastery. Truly it was: with karma to meet an old acquaintance; prajna returning to its home ground. Inside, they looked about them, and truly:

A great realm under heaven, finer indeed than Saha; it outdoes Jeta's Grove and Shravasti, and yields nothing to the loftiest monastery. Immortal music rings out loud and clear, and the names of Buddha sound upon the air.

The Bodhisattva came straight to the Many-Treasure Terrace, and there indeed was the countenance of Golden Cicada, wise and clear. The poem says:

All things limpid, without one speck of dust; the great master Xuanzang sits upon the high terrace.Souls of the dead, reborn, come to him out of the dark; the eminent hearers of the law come to him in from the streets.Giving according to the need, the heart's road runs far; born at will, the hidden gate stands open.Face to face he sets forth the measureless law, and old and young alike open their hearts in joy.

Another poem says:

Through the dharma world he wanders in the hall of preaching, and meets with one unlike the common run of men.All tell the thousand and ten thousand things before their eyes, and talk besides of the many works of kalpas of dust.The cloud of the law spreads soft above the clustered peaks; the net of the teaching stretches full across the sky.It turns the lives of men toward good thoughts, and red petals rain from heaven in drifts.

On the terrace the master recited a while from the Sutra of Receiving Birth and Ferrying Over the Dead, discoursed a while on the Heavenly Treasury Scroll for the Pacifying of the Realm, and then proclaimed a while from the Scroll Exhorting to Merit. The Bodhisattva came up close, struck the jeweled terrace with her hand, and called out in a loud voice: “Monk! You know only how to discourse on the teaching of the Lesser Vehicle; can you discourse on the Greater?” Xuanzang heard, and his heart leapt with joy; he sprang down from the terrace, and raising his hand to the Bodhisattva said: “Reverend teacher, your disciple failed to see you—a great fault. All this company of monks preaches only the Lesser Vehicle; I do not know how the teaching of the Greater goes.” The Bodhisattva said: “This Lesser Vehicle of yours cannot raise the dead to a higher birth; it can only temper the world and soften its light. I have the Three Treasuries of the Buddha's Greater Vehicle: they can raise the dead up to heaven, can deliver the imperiled out of suffering, can win a life-body of immeasurable years, and make one who neither comes nor goes.”

While they spoke, the officer of incense who patrolled the hall hurried to report to the Tang sovereign: “The master was in the midst of discoursing on the wonderful law when two scabby wandering monks pulled him down and spouted nonsense at him.” The king ordered them seized. A crowd pushed the two monks into the rear hall of the law; brought before Taizong, the monks neither raised their hands nor bowed, but looked up and said: “Your Majesty called us—for what?” The Tang sovereign knew him: “Are you the monk who gave the kasaya the other day?” The Bodhisattva said: “I am.” Taizong said: “If you came here to hear the preaching, you should have taken your vegetarian meal and sat still. Why quarrel with my master, throw the sutra hall into disorder, and impede the work of Buddha?” The Bodhisattva said: “Your master preaches the Lesser Vehicle, which cannot raise the dead to heaven. I have the Three Treasuries of the Greater Vehicle, which can deliver the dead from suffering and win a life-body that knows no decay.” Taizong, grave with joy, asked: “And where does your Greater Vehicle law reside?” The Bodhisattva said: “In the Thunderclap Monastery on Vulture Peak in Great India in the far West, with our Tathagata Buddha. It can untie the knots of a hundred grievances and dissolve calamities that were never deserved.” Taizong said: “Do you have it by heart?” The Bodhisattva said: “I remember it.” Taizong rejoiced greatly: “Let the master lead you up—be so good as to mount the terrace and open the discourse.”

The Bodhisattva took Moksa with her, flew up to the high terrace, trod the auspicious clouds straight up into the ninth heaven, revealed her true form as her who saves from suffering, and held up the pure vase with its sprig of willow. On the left was Moksa Hui'an, staff in hand, his spirit braced. The Tang sovereign in his joy bowed toward heaven, and the civil and military officials knelt on the earth and burned incense. In all the monastery, monks and nuns, Daoists and laymen, scholars and craftsmen and merchants, there was not one who did not bow and pray: “What a Bodhisattva! What a Bodhisattva!” There is a eulogy to prove it:

Auspicious mist scatters in bright confusion; blessed light guards the dharma body. In the ninth heaven, amid the shining river of the sky, appears a true one in a woman's form. The Bodhisattva on her head wears a chaplet of gold-leaf knots spread with kingfisher plumes, shedding gold light and breathing auspicious vapor, hung with strings of pearls; on her body a robe of pale hue and light tint, blue and white, coiled with golden dragons and flying with phoenixes of many colors; at her breast a chime of jeweled pendants that answers the moon and dances in the clear wind, strung with precious pearls and set with kingfisher jade; at her waist a skirt of brocade velvet woven of ice-silkworm thread and edged with gold, that mounts the colored clouds and presses the jade sea. Before her she leads a white parrot with yellow down and red beak, that flew across the eastern ocean and ranged the whole world, grateful and filial. In her hand she bears the treasure vase of her grace that aids the world; in the vase stands a sprig of willow that sprinkles the blue heavens, scatters the great evil, and sweeps away the lingering fog. Rings of jade pierce the embroidered clasps; deep beneath her are her golden lotus feet. The gates of the three heavens are open to her coming and going. Truly she is Guanyin, who saves from suffering and from hard distress.

The Tang sovereign in his rapture forgot his rivers and mountains; the civil and military officials lost all the forms of court; and the whole assembly chanted: “Homage to Guanyin Bodhisattva!” Taizong gave orders at once that painters of cunning hand sketch the Bodhisattva's true likeness. At the word there was chosen Wu Daozi, that painter of gods and saints, of far sight and lofty discernment (the same who later painted the meritorious officials on the Pavilion of Lingering Smoke). He spread his wondrous brush and drew the true form. The Bodhisattva's auspicious clouds receded into the distance, and in an instant the gold light was gone; only, from mid-air, down fluttered a paper slip on which were written a few lines of eulogy, plain to read. It said:

Homage to the sovereign of the Great Tang: in the West there are wondrous texts.The road runs a hundred and eight thousand li; with earnest care press on to the Greater Vehicle.When this scripture comes back to our land, it can raise the ghosts out of the throng of the dead.If any are willing to go, they shall seek and win the golden body of right fruition.

Reading the eulogy, Taizong ordered the monks: “Suspend the great assembly for now. When I have sent men to fetch the Greater Vehicle scriptures, we shall renew our loyal hearts and begin the good work again.” Not an official but obeyed. Then, there in the monastery, he asked: “Who will take my commission and go up to the Western Heaven, bow before Buddha, and fetch the scriptures?” The words were hardly out of his mouth when the master stepped from the side and made his reverence before the emperor: “Your poor monk is without talent, yet he gladly offers the labor of dog and horse, to go and fetch the true scriptures for Your Majesty, and pray that our sovereign's rivers and mountains stand firm forever.” The Tang sovereign was overjoyed, came forward, and raised him with his own hand: “If the master can give such loyal worth, and does not fear how long the road nor the crossing of mountains and rivers, I will gladly be your brother.” Xuanzang bowed his head and thanked the grace. The Tang sovereign, worthy indeed, went before the Buddha in the monastery and made four full bows to Xuanzang, calling him “sagely monk and royal brother.” Xuanzang, thanking him without end, said: “Your Majesty, what virtue or power has your poor monk, that he should be so favored of heavenly grace? I go to give up this body and spend my every effort, straight to the Western Heaven; and if I do not reach the Western Heaven and win the true scriptures, I will not dare return to this land though I die, but sink forever into the hell of the lost.” Then before the Buddha he lit incense and made it his vow. The Tang sovereign rejoiced greatly, ordered the royal carriage back, and it was settled that when a fine day should be chosen the passport would be issued and the journey made; then the carriage returned and all dispersed.

Xuanzang also went back to Broad Blessing Monastery. The monks of the house and his few disciples had long heard of the quest for the scriptures, and came to see him, asking: “You have vowed to go up to the Western Heaven—is it true?” Xuanzang said: “It is true.” His disciples said: “Master, we have heard it said that the road to the Western Heaven is far, and that tigers, leopards, and demons throng it. We fear you will go and not return; your life could not be kept.” Xuanzang said: “I have sworn a great and mighty vow: if I do not fetch the true scriptures, I sink forever into the hell of the lost. It is simply that, having received the sovereign's grace and favor, I cannot but be loyal and repay the realm. This going of mine is truly into the dim and the vast; good fortune and bad are not to be told.” And he said: “Disciples, after I am gone—three years, or five, or seven—watch the pine branches at the mountain gate: when they point east, I am coming back; if not, I shall never come back.” The disciples took these words and held them fast in memory.

Early the next morning Taizong held court and gathered the civil and military, wrote out the passport for the fetching of the scriptures, and set upon it the great seal of passage. The astrological commission reported: “Today is the day of the honored man and the lucky star, fit for setting out on a far road.” The Tang sovereign rejoiced. Then the gate officer announced: “The royal brother the master waits outside the gate for the edict.” He was at once called up into the jeweled hall: “Royal brother, today is a lucky day for travel. Here is the passport of passage. I have besides a purple-gold alms bowl to send with you, for begging your food upon the road. Two attendants for the long road have been chosen. And I add a horse from my own gift, to be your legs for the far journey. Set out from here.” Xuanzang rejoiced, thanked the grace, took up his things, and showed no thought of lingering. The Tang sovereign set out his carriage, and with the ministers escorted him beyond the gate. There the monks of Broad Blessing and the disciples had brought all Xuanzang's winter and summer clothes, and waited outside the pass. The Tang sovereign ordered first that the baggage and horses be made ready, then had an officer take up the ewer and pour wine. Taizong raised the cup, and asked: “By what fine name shall we call you, royal brother?” Xuanzang said: “Your poor monk is one who has left the world; he dares not take a title.” Taizong said: “The Bodhisattva said that in the Western Heaven are the scriptures in three treasuries. Royal brother, take your title from the scriptures and be called Tripitaka—how would that be?” Xuanzang thanked the grace again, and took the cup, saying: “Your Majesty, wine is the first prohibition of the monkhood; your poor monk, since he became a man of religion, has never drunk.” Taizong said: “This journey is not as other things. This is unfermented wine; drink only this one cup, to crown my farewell.” Tripitaka dared not refuse. He took the cup, and was just lifting it to drink, when Taizong bowed his head, took up with his imperial finger a pinch of dust from the ground, and dropped it into the wine. Tripitaka did not understand. Taizong laughed and said: “Royal brother—this journey of yours, when you reach the Western Heaven, how long before you come back?” Tripitaka said: “In three years I shall come straight back to our land.” Taizong said: “The days are long and the years deep; the mountains far and the roads distant. Drink this cup, royal brother: better to love one pinch of your native earth than ten thousand taels of gold in a stranger's land.” Tripitaka then understood the meaning of the pinch of dust, thanked the grace again, drank the cup dry, took his leave, and passed out through the gate. The Tang sovereign's carriage returned.

But how did that going turn out? Listen to the next chapter to find out.

The Tang King Holds the Grand Mass in Sincerity; Guanyin Shows Her Sacred Form and Converts the Golden Cicada

Now the ghost messengers, with Liu Quan and his wife, left the dark world. The chill wind swirled around them, and soon they reached the great land of Chang'an. They pushed Liu Quan's soul into his body at the Golden Pavilion hostel, and carried Cuilian's soul into the inner courtyard of the palace. The princess Yuying was walking slowly over the green moss under the shade of the flowers when a ghost messenger rushed into her arms, knocked her to the ground, seized her living soul, and pushed Cuilian's soul into Yuying's body. The ghost messengers returned to the dark world. Of this no more.

Now the maids of the palace, great and small, saw Yuying fall down dead. They hurried to the Golden Chime Hall and reported to the empress of the three palaces: "Her Highness the princess has fallen down dead." The empress was shocked and told Taizong at once. Taizong heard it, nodded, and sighed: "So it was true. I once asked the ten kings of the underworld, 'Are the old and young of my palace well?' They said, 'All are well, but we fear your younger sister will not live long.' Their words have come true." Everyone in the palace came, weeping. When they all reached the shade of the flowers, they saw that the princess still breathed faintly. The Tang king said, "Do not weep! Do not weep! Do not startle her." He stepped forward, lifted her head with his own hand, and called, "Sister, wake up! Wake up!" The princess suddenly turned over and cried, "Husband, walk slowly! Wait for me!" Taizong said, "Sister, it is we who are here." The princess raised her head, opened her eyes, and looked: "Who are you, daring to grab me?" Taizong said, "It is your royal brother and your royal sister-in-law." The princess said, "What royal brother and royal sister-in-law do I have? My family name is Li, and my childhood name was Li Cuilian. My husband's surname is Liu and his given name is Quan, and we are both natives of Junzhou. Three months ago I pulled a gold hairpin from my head at the gate to give alms to a monk. My husband scolded me for going out of the inner door without leave, saying I did not keep a woman's place. I choked with anger, hung myself from the beam with a band of white silk, and died, leaving a son and a daughter who wept day and night. Now my husband was sent by the Tang king's own order to carry melons and fruit down to the dark world. The kings took pity and let my husband and me come back. He walked ahead. I came late, could not catch up, and fell down. You people have no manners! You do not even know my name, and you dare grab me?" Taizong heard this and said to the palace people, "I suppose she was dazed by the fall and is talking nonsense." He gave orders for the imperial medical office to bring soup and medicine, and had Yuying carried into her palace.

The Tang king was in the hall when an officer of the guard came to report: "Your Majesty, the man who carried the melons, Liu Quan, has come back to life and is waiting for your orders outside the palace gate." The Tang king was astonished and quickly summoned Liu Quan in. Liu Quan knelt at the red steps. Taizong asked, "How did the business with the melons and fruit go?" Liu Quan said, "I carried the melons and fruit straight to the Gate of Ghosts and was led up to the Senluo Hall, where I saw the ten kings. I presented the melons and fruit and told them fully how my sovereign wished to thank them. The kings were delighted and sent many greetings to my sovereign: 'Truly an emperor of good faith and virtue, this Taizong!'" The Tang king said, "What did you see in the dark world?" Liu Quan said, "I did not travel far, and saw nothing much. I only heard the kings ask my native place and my name. I told the whole story of how I left my home and my children because my wife had hanged herself, and how I wished to bring the melons. They quickly sent ghost messengers to bring my wife over, and we met at the foot of the Senluo Hall. They also checked the register of death and said that my wife and I both have lifespans that should end in immortal rank, and they sent ghost messengers to bring us back. I walked in front and my wife behind, and luckily we both came back to life. But I do not know where my wife was sent." The Tang king asked in alarm, "Did the kings say anything about your wife?" Liu Quan said, "The kings said nothing themselves. I only heard the ghost messengers say, 'Li Cuilian has been dead so long that her body is gone.' And a king said, 'Li Yuying, the younger sister of the Emperor of Tang, is due to die today. Let Cuilian borrow Yuying's body and return to life in it.' I do not know what place this 'younger sister of the Emperor of Tang' is, or where she lives. I have not been able to look for her yet."

When the Tang king heard this report, his heart was full of joy. He said to all the officers: "When I took leave of the kings of the dead, I asked about the palace. They said, 'All are well, old and young, but we fear your younger sister will not live long.' Just now my sister Yuying fell down dead under the flowers. I hurried to raise her, and in a moment she woke and cried, 'Husband, walk slowly! Wait for me!' I thought she was only talking wildly from the fall. But I questioned her closely, and what she said was exactly what Liu Quan says." Wei Zheng said, "It must be that her lifespan was cut short for a moment. The words she spoke as soon as she woke show that Liu Quan's wife has borrowed her body and returned to life in it. Such things do happen. Let the princess come out, and let us hear what she says." The Tang king said, "I have just sent the medical office in with medicine. Let us see." He sent the concubines in to ask her to come out. From inside, the princess was shouting: "What medicine should I take? This is not my house! My home is a cool tiled cottage, not this yellow-sick house with its gaudy painted doors. Let me out! Let me out!"

While she shouted, four or five court ladies and two or three eunuchs helped her out, and she came all the way up to the hall. The Tang king said, "Do you know your husband?" Yuying said, "What talk is that? We have been husband and wife since our hair was first bound up, and we have had sons and daughters together. How would I not know him?" The Tang king ordered the eunuchs to help her down. The princess came down from the treasure hall, went straight to the white jade steps, saw Liu Quan, grabbed him, and said, "Husband, where were you going, without waiting for me? I fell down, and all these unreasonable people surrounded me and shouted at me. What is the meaning of this?" Liu Quan heard words like his wife's words, but looked on a face that was not his wife's face, and dared not claim her. The Tang king said, "Truly it is written: mountains may split and the earth may open before men's eyes, but a living soul taken to die in a dead body's place is hardly ever seen." What a righteous king he was: he gave Liu Quan all the princess's trousseau, clothes, and jewels, like a dowry. He also granted him a royal order freeing him from forced labor forever, and sent him home with the princess. Husband and wife thanked him at the foot of the steps and went home happy. There is a poem to prove it:

A man's life and death come from a former bond; long lives and short lives each have their years.Liu Quan carried the melons and came back to the world above; Li Cuilian borrowed a body and returned to life.

The two took leave of the king and went straight home to the city of Junzhou. They found the old family property and the children all well, and the two of them spread the good fruit of their good deeds everywhere. Of this no more.

Now Yuchi Gong took the vault of gold and silver and went to Kaifeng in Henan to look for Xiang Liang. It turned out that Xiang Liang earned his living selling water. He and his wife, a woman of the Zhang family, sold black pots and earthenware at their gate to get by. Whatever money they made, they spent only on travel and food, and gave what they could to monks and to the poor. They bought gold and silver paper ingots, wrote them into a storehouse account, and burned them, and so this good fruit came to them. In the world above they were a poor couple who loved to do good; in the other world they were elders with heaped jade and piled gold. Yuchi Gong brought the gold and silver to their door, and Mr. Xiang and his wife nearly died of fright. The officers of the prefecture had come too, and carriages and horses crowded outside the thatched hut. The old couple sat on the ground like people struck dumb, kowtowing over and over. Yuchi Gong said, "Please get up, elders. Though I am an officer sent by the throne, I only bring my sovereign's gold and silver, to return it to you." Trembling, they answered, "We small folk never lent out money. How could we dare take wealth that is not ours?" Yuchi Gong said, "I have looked into it too, and I know you are poor. But you gave alms to monks and to the poor as far as your means went, and you bought gold and silver paper ingots, burned them, and entered them in the ledger of the dark world. So you have money stored up there. My Emperor Taizong died for three days and came back to life. While he was in the dark world he borrowed one vault of your gold and silver, and now it is returned to you coin for coin. Take it, piece by piece, so that I may go back and report." Xiang Liang and his wife only bowed toward heaven and would not dare take it. They said, "If we took this gold and silver, we should die all the sooner. True, the paper was burned and the ledger written, but that is a matter in the dark; and what proof is there that Your Majesty borrowed gold and silver in the other world? We will never dare take it." Yuchi Gong said, "The Emperor says that Judge Cui stood surety for the loan, and he can prove it. Take it." Xiang Liang said, "Even if it kills us, we dare not take it."

When Yuchi Gong saw how firmly they refused, he could only send up a written report. When Taizong read it and learned that Xiang Liang would not take the gold and silver, he said, "He is truly a good and worthy elder." He gave orders that Hu Jingde spend the gold and silver repairing monasteries for him, building a shrine to a living man, and engaging monks to do good works, to count as repayment. When the order arrived, Jingde bowed toward the palace, thanked the Emperor, and read the decree aloud, and everyone learned of it. They bought with the gold and silver a plot of ground in the city that did not burden soldiers or civilians, fifty mu around, and built a monastery on it, named "The Xiangguo Monastery, Built by Imperial Order," with a living shrine to Mr. Xiang and his wife on the left. A stone was cut and carved with the words "Built under the supervision of Yuchi Gong." This is today's Great Xiangguo Monastery.

When the work was done he reported back, and Taizong was delighted. He gathered his officers again and posted a call for monks, to build the Grand Mass of Land and Water and free the lonely souls of the dark world. The notice went out through the empire, and officials everywhere were to choose holy monks of the Way and send them to Chang'an for the Mass. Within a month monks from all over the empire had arrived. The Tang king ordered the vice director of astronomy, Fu Yi, to choose the eminent monks and arrange the Buddhist services. When Fu Yi heard the order, he sent up a memorial against the teaching of the Buddha, saying there was no Buddha. The memorial read:

The law of the western lands knows no sovereign and subject, no father and son. With its three evil paths and six paths of rebirth it deceives and entangles the simple. It dreads past sins and peers after future blessings, chanting Sanskrit words to slip free of its debts. Life and death, long life and early death, come from nature itself; punishment, virtue, power, and blessing belong to the sovereign of men. Now I hear worldly men making false claims, saying it all comes from the Buddha. From the Five Emperors and the Three Kings down to now, there was no law of the Buddha, yet sovereigns were bright and ministers loyal, and the years of the dynasty were long. Only when Emperor Ming of Han first set up this barbarian god did the monks of the western lands spread their teaching. It is really barbarians invading the Middle Kingdom, and it does not deserve belief.

When Taizong heard this, he threw the memorial down to his ministers to debate. Then the chancellor Xiao Yu stepped out of his rank, bowed low, and said: "The law of the Buddha has flourished through dynasty after dynasty. It spreads goodness and stops evil, and in secret it helps the state. To abolish it is against all reason. The Buddha is a sage. To deny the sage is to be without law. I beg you to punish such words severely." Fu Yi argued with Xiao Yu, saying: "Ritual is rooted in serving one's parents and one's sovereign. But the Buddha turns his back on his parents and leaves home, so that a common man sets himself against the Son of Heaven, and a heir breaks with those who begot him. Xiao Yu was not born of a hollow mulberry tree, yet he follows a teaching without fathers — truly it is said: 'To deny filial piety is to be without parents.'" Xiao Yu only pressed his palms together and said, "Hell was made for exactly such men as this." Taizong called the minister of the imperial stables, Zhang Daoyuan, and the director of the secretariat, Zhang Shiheng, and asked what the good fruit of Buddhist works would be. The two answered: "The Buddha is in purity, mercy, and forgiveness; when the fruit is right, the Buddha is emptiness. Emperor Wu of Zhou ranked the three teachings in order; the Chan master Dahui praised the deep and the far, and after receiving all offerings showed himself everywhere; the Fifth Patriarch entered a new body, and Bodhidharma showed his image. From ancient times all have said that the three teachings are supreme and must not be destroyed or abolished. We beg Your Majesty to judge with clear sight." Taizong was delighted and said, "Your words are reasonable. Whoever speaks further against it will be punished." He then ordered Wei Zheng, Xiao Yu, and Zhang Daoyuan to invite all the Buddhas and to choose a man of great virtue and conduct to be master of the altar and set up the place of worship. All bowed their heads, thanked him, and withdrew. From then on a law was issued: whoever cursed monks or slandered the Buddha would lose an arm.

The next day the three court ministers gathered the monks in the Altar of Mountains and Rivers and examined them one by one from the top. From among them they chose a holy monk of great virtue. And who do you think he was?

His first name of numinous power was Golden Cicada, but he did not set his heart on the Buddha's preaching.He was sent into the dusty mortal world to suffer grinding pain; born into the common world, he met nets and snares.No sooner conceived and born than he met with evil; before he left the womb he faced a wicked band.His father was Chen, top graduate of Haizhou; his grandfather commanded the armies of the reigning court.At birth his fate fell under the river star, and he drifted downstream, carried from wave to wave.On the sea island of Gold Mountain a great destiny waited, and the monk Qian'an brought him up.At just eighteen he found his own mother, and went to the capital to seek his grandfather.The commander raised a mighty army and crushed the bandits at Hongzhou, killing the wicked gang.The top graduate Guangrui slipped free of heaven's net; father and son met, worthy of all congratulation.He was received again at court and tasted his sovereign's favor, and his good name rang from the Lingyan Pavilion.He refused office and wished to be a monk, a monk of Hongfu seeking the Way.His childhood name was River Float, a child of the ancient Buddha; his Dharma name is Chen Xuanzang.

That day they put forward Master Xuanzang before them all. This man had been a monk since childhood; from his mother's womb he had kept the fast and taken the vows. His maternal grandfather was Yin Kaishan, commander of a great army of the reigning court. His father Chen Guangrui took first place in the examination and was appointed Grand Academician of the Wenyuan Hall. He set his heart against rank and wealth and loved only quiet cultivation. It was found that his origins were noble and his virtue high; of the thousand sutras and ten thousand classics, none was closed to him; of buddha names and immortal chants, none did he not know.

The three ministers led him before the throne. He stamped the dust and danced in homage. When the bows were done, they said, "Your servants, by your sacred order, have chosen a holy monk, Chen Xuanzang." When Taizong heard the name, he thought for a long while and said, "Is this Xuanzang, son of the Academician Chen Guangrui?" River Float bowed his head and said, "It is I." Taizong was pleased and said, "The choice is right indeed. He is truly a monk of virtue and a Chan heart. I grant you the posts of Chief of Monks of the Left, Chief of Monks of the Right, and Grand Chief of All Monks under Heaven." Xuanzang bowed his head, thanked him, and took the great office. The king also gave him a gold-woven cassock of five colors and a Pilu cap. He told him to honor the wise monks with care and set the senior teachers in order, to write out the royal order, go to the Huasheng Monastery, choose a lucky day and hour, and open the preaching of the sutras.

Xuanzang bowed again, took the order, and left. He went to the Huasheng Monastery, gathered the many monks, built the seats of meditation, prepared the works of merit, and arranged the music. He chose twelve hundred wise monks, great and small, and assigned them to the upper, middle, and lower halls. Everything before the Buddhas was ready, every item in its place. He chose the lucky day of the third of the ninth month of that year to open the seven sevens, forty-nine days of the Grand Mass of Land and Water, and sent up a memorial to say so. Taizong, the civil and military officers, and the royal relatives all came at the time, offered incense, and listened to the preaching. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

The reign count stands at thirteen of Zhenguan, and the king gathers the assembly to talk of the scriptures.The place of worship opens and sets forth the boundless law; cloud and mist ride the light of the great vow's shrine.By his decree the emperor bestows grace and raises the holy monastery; the golden cicada sheds its shell and is changed for the western shore.Good fruit is given to all, raising up the sunken; the teaching is held and proclaimed, the three before and behind.

In the thirteenth year of Zhenguan, the year Jisi, on the jiaxu day of the ninth month, the third day, at the lucky hour of Guimao, Master Chen Xuanzang, Grand Chief of Monks, gathered twelve hundred holy monks in the Huasheng Monastery in the city of Chang'an to preach the wonderful sutras, section by section. When the emperor's morning court was over, he led the civil and military officers, rode the phoenix carriage and dragon chariot out of the Golden Chime Hall, and went straight to the monastery to offer incense. And how did the royal procession look? Truly:

A sky full of lucky air, ten thousand rays of blessed light. The wind of kindness blew soft and gentle; the sun of grace shone wonderfully bright. A thousand officers, their jade pendants chiming, ranged before and behind; the guards of the five banners stood in lines on either side. Bearers of gold maces and carriers of axes and battle-axes went pair by pair; crimson gauze candles and the incense of the royal censer rose hazy and grand. Dragons flew and phoenixes danced; ospreys cried and eagles soared. The sage and bright Son of Heaven stood upright, and his loyal, righteous ministers were good. A thousand years of blessing, past Shun and Yu; ten thousand generations of peace, rivaling Yao and Tang. Then came the umbrella with the curved handle and the robe of rolling dragons, their brightness crossing; the jade linked rings and the painted phoenix fans, their holy mist drifting. Pearl caps and jade belts, purple cords and gold seals. A thousand companies of guards to protect the carriage, and two rows of bearers to hold it. This emperor had bathed in sincerity and honored the Buddha; he took refuge in good fruit and gladly offered incense.

The Tang king's carriage reached the monastery gate. He ordered the music and instruments stopped, got down from the carriage, and led his officers to bow to the Buddha and offer incense. After three circuits he looked up, and it was truly a fine place of worship. This is what he saw:

Banners waved and streamed; the jeweled canopy flashed. The banners waved and streamed, and folds of colored cloud swayed in the air; the jeweled canopy flashed, and red lightning flickered against the sun. The golden statue of the World-Honored One stood solemn; the jade faces of the arhats were full of majesty. Vases held immortal flowers; censers burned sandalwood and aloes. The vases held immortal flowers, and trees of brocade shone over the holy monastery; the censers burned sandalwood, and clouds of incense rose thick through the clear sky. Fresh fruits were laid out on red dishes; strange sweets and pastries were piled on painted tables. The holy monks sat in rows and chanted the true scriptures, praying to pull the lonely souls out of their suffering.

Taizong and his civil and military officers all offered incense, bowed to the golden body of the Buddha, and paid respect to the arhats. Then Master Chen Xuanzang, Grand Chief of Monks, led the monks to bow in rows before the Tang king. When the rites were done, each took his seat of meditation. The master presented the proclamation for the freeing of the orphan souls for Taizong to read. It read:

The highest virtue is deep and far; the Chan teaching is quiet and still. Pure and numinous, it moves through the three worlds. It changes in a thousand ways and commands both dark and light; its substance and its work are true and lasting, without end. Look on these lonely souls, and grieve for them deeply. By the sacred order of Taizong, monks are gathered to practice meditation and preach the law. The gate of salvation is opened wide, the boat of mercy is launched, to save all the suffering in the sea of bitterness and free the sick of soul from the six paths. It leads them to the true road, back to the vast beginning; in stillness without action it forms them pure and simple. By this good cause they are invited to the azure city and the crimson palace; by this great assembly they escape the hell of the common cage. Soon they mount the land of bliss and roam at will, coming and going in the west, free and easy.

The poem says:

One censer of incense for lasting life, a few scrolls of the register of rebirth.The boundless wonderful law is preached; the endless grace of heaven pours down.Grievances and sins are all wiped away; the lonely souls all leave the prison.May our land and our homes be kept safe, in peace, with blessing for all.

Taizong read it, and his heart was full of joy. He said to the monks, "You stand loyal and sincere. Do not grow lazy in the work of the Buddha. When it is finished, each of you will receive his blessing, and I will reward you richly. Your labor will not be wasted." The twelve hundred monks bowed their heads together and thanked him. That day, after the three meals of the fast, the Tang king went back to his palace. On the seventh day, the day of the main assembly, he was invited to come and offer incense again. It was getting late, and all the officers withdrew. And how lovely was that evening? Look:

Over ten thousand li of open sky the sun's last rays grow pale; a few returning crows settle down to roost.The city fills with lamps and lights, and the noise of people stills; it is the hour when the monks of Chan sit in meditation.

One night passed; we say no more of the evening scene. Early the next day the master took his seat again and gathered the monks to chant the scriptures. Of this no more.

Now the Bodhisattva Guanyin of Mount Putuo in the Southern Sea had taken on herself the order of the Tathagata Buddha to look in Chang'an for a good man to fetch the scriptures, but day after day she met no one truly holy and virtuous. Then she heard that Taizong was spreading good works, choosing holy monks, and opening the Grand Mass. She saw too that the master of the altar was the monk River Float — a child of the Buddha come down from the land of bliss, and the very elder she herself had once sent into a new body. The bodhisattva was overjoyed. She carried the treasures the Buddha had given her up the great street and sold them with Moksha. And what treasures were they? A brocade cassock of rare treasure and a nine-ringed tin staff. She also had three fillets — gold, tight, and forbidden — carefully hidden away for later use. Only the cassock and the staff were for sale.

In Chang'an there were foolish monks who had not been chosen for the Mass, yet had a few strings of country cash. They saw the bodhisattva in the shape of a scabby, leprous creature, in a patched rag robe, barefoot and bareheaded, holding up the cassock, which glowed brightly. They came up and asked, "Hey, scabby monk, how much do you want for that cassock?" The bodhisattva said, "The cassock is worth five thousand taels, and the staff two thousand." The foolish monks laughed: "These two scabby monks are madmen! Fools! Two crude things like these for seven thousand taels of silver? They would not be worth it even if wearing them made you immortal and made you a Buddha or a patriarch! Take them away! No sale!"

The bodhisattva did not argue, but walked on with Moksha. After a long while they came to the Eastern Flower Gate and ran into the chancellor Xiao Yu, coming back from court, his retinue shouting the street clear. The bodhisattva did not step aside at all, but stood in the middle of the street holding the cassock and walked straight toward the chancellor. Xiao Yu reined in his horse and looked. The cassock glowed brightly. He sent a servant to ask the seller her price. The bodhisattva said, "The cassock for five thousand taels, the staff for two thousand." Xiao Yu said, "What good is it, to be worth such a price?" The bodhisattva said, "The cassock has its good points and its bad points; it is for sale for money, and it is not for sale for money." Xiao Yu said, "What do you mean, good? What do you mean, bad?" The bodhisattva said, "Whoever wears my cassock will not sink into darkness, will not fall into hell, will not meet the disaster of the vicious, and will not meet the calamity of tigers and wolves. That is the good of it. But greedy, lustful, foolish monks, monks who keep neither fast nor vows, and common men who destroy the scriptures and slander the Buddha — they will never so much as see the face of my cassock. That is the bad of it." He asked again, "What do you mean, for money and not for money?" The bodhisattva said, "Whoever does not follow the law of the Buddha and does not honor the Three Treasures and tries to force the cassock and staff from me — I will insist on seven thousand taels from him. That is for money. But one who honors the Three Treasures, rejoices in goodness, takes refuge in our Buddha, and can bear the weight of them — I will gladly give him the cassock and the staff for nothing, to make a good bond with him. That is not for money." When Xiao Yu heard this, his face grew brighter and brighter, and he knew this was a holy person. He got down from his horse at once and greeted the bodhisattva with all courtesy, saying, "Great Elder of the Law, forgive my fault, Xiao Yu. Our emperor of Great Tang loves goodness deeply, and the whole court follows him. He is just now opening the Grand Mass of Land and Water, and this cassock is just what Master Chen Xuanzang, the Grand Chief of Monks, should wear. Come with me to court to see the Emperor."

The bodhisattva gladly went with him, turned her steps, and went straight in through the Eastern Flower Gate. The gate officer passed the report in, and by order they were called to the treasure hall. Xiao Yu came in leading two scabby monks, who stood below the steps. The Tang king asked, "Xiao Yu, what have you to report?" Xiao Yu bowed to the ground before the steps and said, "As I came out of the Eastern Flower Gate I met these two monks, who are selling a cassock and a tin staff. I thought Master Xuanzang should wear such clothing, so I have brought the monks to be presented." Taizong was delighted and asked the price of the cassock. The bodhisattva and Moksha stood waiting below the steps without making a bow. Asked the price of the cassock, they answered, "The cassock, five thousand taels; the staff, two thousand." Taizong said, "What good is that cassock, to be worth so much?" The bodhisattva said:

This cassock: let a dragon wear one thread of it, and the disaster of being swallowed by the great roc is spared; let a crane wear one strand, and it wins the wonder of rising past the common world into sainthood. Wherever you sit in it, ten thousand gods come to bow; whatever you do in it, seven Buddhas go with you. This cassock was spun from the silk of the ice silkworm, twisted into thread by skillful craftsmen, woven by immortal maidens and finished on the looms of goddesses, its squares clustered and sewn with flowers of embroidery, patch helping patch, piled like folded brocade. Delicate and scattered, it vies with the true polish flower; its colors blaze and its light pours out jeweled splendor. Worn, it wraps the body in red mist; taken off, it flies away like a piece of colored cloud. Through the gates of the three heavens its hidden light shines out; before the peaks of the five mountains its holy aura rises. Layer on layer are set the passionflower of the western lands; bright, bright hang pearls in the likeness of the stars. At the four corners are night-shining pearls, and at the crown is set a single emerald. Though it cannot wholly show its original body, it gathers eight treasures that give off light. This cassock, when idle, is folded away, and worn only for the holy. Folded away in idleness, a thousand layers wrapped, it shines like a rainbow; worn only for the holy, it startles the gods and ghosts of all the heavens. On it are the wish-granting pearl, the Mani pearl, the dust-proof pearl, the wind-stilling pearl; and the red agate, the purple coral, the night-shining pearl, and relics of the Buddha. It steals the moon's white and rivals the sun's red. Thread after thread of immortal breath fills the sky; blossom after blossom of holy light attends the sage. Thread after thread of immortal breath lights the gates of heaven; blossom after blossom of holy light casts its shade over the world. It shines on mountains and rivers and startles tigers and leopards; it shadows sea and island and stirs fish and dragons. Along its edges run two borders of gold; at its collar hang linked rings of white jade.

The poem says:

The Three Treasures stand high and holy, and the Way is worthy of honor; the four births and six paths are all weighed by it.A clear mind understands the law that nourishes men and gods; seeing one's own nature passes on the lamp of wisdom.It guards the body in the golden world's splendor; body and heart are clean as ice in a jade pot.Since the Buddha made the cassock, through ten thousand ages who has dared to cut down the monks?

The Tang king heard this in the treasure hall and was delighted. He asked again, "Monk, what is so good about the nine-ringed staff?" The bodhisattva said, "My tin staff is of this kind:

Nine linked rings, of copper rims and iron make; nine joints of immortal vine keep it ever young.In the hand it tires of nothing, lean as green bone; down the mountain it comes lightly, carrying white clouds home.Maha the Fifth Patriarch wandered the courts of heaven with it; Luobu searched for his mother and broke the doors of the earth.It is not stained by one speck of the red dust's filth, and gladly goes with a holy monk up the jade mountain."

The Tang king heard this and ordered the cassock spread out, and looked at it closely from top to bottom. It was truly a fine thing. He said, "Great Elder of the Law, I will not hide it from you. I am now opening the teaching of goodness on a grand scale and planting wide fields of blessing. Monks are gathered at this moment in the Huasheng Monastery to preach the sutras, and among them is one of very great virtue, whose Dharma name is Xuanzang. I want to buy these two treasures and give them to him to use. What is your true price?" The bodhisattva heard this, pressed her palms together with Moksha, took refuge, said a buddha's name, bowed, and said, "Since he has such virtue, I, a poor monk, will gladly give them to him and take no money." With that she turned to go. The Tang king quickly had Xiao Yu hold her, and asked, leaning forward on the throne, "You first said the cassock was five thousand taels and the staff two thousand. Now that you see I wish to buy, you take no money. Do you mean to say that I, relying on my throne, force your goods from you? There is no such thing. I will pay your first price in full. You must not refuse." The bodhisattva raised her hands and said, "I made a vow before: I said that if one honored the Three Treasures, rejoiced in goodness, and took refuge in our Buddha, I would ask no money but give them gladly. Now I see that Your Majesty's bright virtue rests in goodness and honors our Buddhist gate; and the holy monk besides is a man of virtue and conduct who spreads the great law. It is right that I present them, and I will take no money. I, a poor monk, leave these things and take my leave." The Tang king saw how earnest she was and was very pleased. He ordered the Court of Imperial Entertainments to lay out a grand vegetarian banquet in thanks. The bodhisattva firmly declined and went off content, back to hide once more in the Earth God temple of the capital. Of this no more.

Taizong held a midday court and sent Wei Zheng with the royal order to call Xuanzang in. The master was just gathering the monks on the altar and chanting sutras and gathas. Hearing the order, he came down from the altar, put his robes in order, and went with Wei Zheng to see the Emperor. Taizong said, "You have labored for this good work, Master, and I have nothing to repay you. This morning Xiao Yu met two monks who wished to give a brocade cassock of rare treasure and a nine-ringed tin staff. I have called you here to take them and use them." Xuanzang bowed his head and thanked him. Taizong said, "Master, if you do not refuse, put them on and let me see." The elder shook out the cassock, threw it over his shoulders, took the tin staff in his hand, and stood waiting before the steps. King and ministers were all delighted. Truly he looked a child of the Tathagata. Look at him:

Solemn and stern his face, yet full of quiet grace; the Buddha's robe fits him as if cut to his body.Its glow, bright and bright, fills heaven and earth; its gathered colors, fold on fold, settle over the universe.Bright pearls, clear and clean, are ranged above and below; layer on layer of gold thread runs front and back.Fine cotton borders the four sides like a brocade hem; ten thousand rare things are spread in silken stitch.Eight treasures stitched as flowers bind the button threads; a gold ring gathers the collar and climbs the woolen clasp.Buddha heavens, great and small, are ranked in order; stars and figures, honored and lowly, take left and right.Master Xuanzang has great destiny, and this thing before him is his to receive.He is like a living arhat of the land of bliss, finer than a true enlightened one of the west.His tin staff rings and rings, vying with its nine rings; his Pilu cap shines, rich and full.Truly a child of the Buddha, and no empty tale; better than Bodhi, without trick or lie.

The civil and military officers at the foot of the steps cheered. Taizong was overjoyed. He had the master put on the cassock and take the precious staff, gave him two companies of outriders, and sent him out of the palace gate with many officers, telling him to walk in procession down the great street to the monastery, like a top graduate parading his new rank. Xuanzang bowed again and again in thanks, and went down the great street in splendor, swaying with pride. In the city of Chang'an, traveling merchants and shopkeepers, young lords and princes, poets and scholars, men and women, great and small, all pressed to look and praise, saying, "What a master! Truly a living arhat come down, a living bodhisattva among men."

Xuanzang came to the monastery, and the monks left their seats to meet him. When they saw the cassock on him and the staff in his hand, they said King Ksitigarbha had come, and each took refuge and waited on him. Xuanzang went up to the hall, lit incense, and bowed to the Buddha. He told the monks of the emperor's grace, and each went back to his seat. The red wheel of the sun sank west before anyone noticed. Truly:

The sun sets; mist blurs the grass and trees. In the imperial capital the bells and drums begin to sound. Three strokes, ding-ding-ding, and people stop in the streets; before and behind, all is quiet.The holy monastery blazes with lamplight; the lone village lies cold and silent. The monks of Chan sit in meditation and put their sutras in order, the very hour to tame the devil and nourish the nature.

Time turned on a finger's snap, and the seventh day, the day of the main assembly, had come. Xuanzang sent up another memorial asking the Tang king to come and offer incense. By now the sound of goodness filled the empire. Taizong set out his carriage, brought the civil and military officers, the empress and concubines, and the royal relatives, and went early to the monastery. Everyone in the city, great and small, high and low, came to the monastery to listen.

The bodhisattva said to Moksha, "Today is the great day of the Mass of Land and Water; the first seven leads on through the seven sevens, and then it is done. Let us mix into the crowd. First, to see how the assembly goes; second, to see whether the Golden Cicada has the luck to wear my treasure; and third, to hear which school of scripture he preaches." The two went into the monastery. Truly it was destiny to meet an old acquaintance again, as prajna comes back to its own place of worship. Inside the monastery they saw that it was truly:

A great kingdom under heaven, finer indeed than the Saha world. It passed the Jeta Grove of Shravasti and was no less than the finest monasteries and sanctuaries. There was a flood of immortal music sounding clear, and the names of the Buddhas rang out on every side.

The bodhisattva went straight to the Many-Treasures platform, and there indeed was the wise face of the Golden Cicada. The poem says:

Ten thousand things lie clear and bright, without a speck of dust, and the great master Xuanzang sits on the high platform.The souls of the dead are raised up, coming in the dark to listen; the holy ones who hear the law come in from the streets.He gives according to each one's need, his thought reaching far; he opens the hidden gate and lets beings be born at will.Facing the crowd, he sets forth the boundless law, and old and young alike open their hearts with joy.

Another poem says:

Because he traveled through the halls where the law is taught, he met an old friend, no common man.All told of the thousand and ten thousand things before their eyes, and spoke too of the works of many ages of dust.The cloud of the law spread soft and wide over the peaks; the net of the teaching stretched and covered all the sky.It turned the hearts of men back to good thoughts, and red petals of flowers rained down from heaven.

The master on the platform chanted a while from the Sutra on Receiving Life and Freeing the Dead, then talked a while from the Heavenly Treasury on Pacifying the State, then read a while from the Scroll Urging the Cultivation of Merit. The bodhisattva came near, struck the treasure platform, and called out in a loud voice: "Monk! You know only how to preach the teaching of the Lesser Vehicle. Can you preach the Greater Vehicle?" Xuanzang heard this and was overjoyed. He leaped down from the platform, raised his hands to the bodhisattva, and said, "Old teacher, your disciple has been blind to you, a great fault. All these monks here preach only the teaching of the Lesser Vehicle, and I do not know what the Greater Vehicle is like." The bodhisattva said, "Your Lesser Vehicle cannot raise the dead to heaven. It can only gloss over the common world and keep the peace. I have the three baskets of the Greater Vehicle law. It can raise the dead to heaven, it can bring the suffering free of their pain, it can build a body of endless life, it can make one beyond coming and going."

While they spoke, the officer who kept the incense and patrolled the hall hurried to report to the Tang king: "The master was preaching the wonderful law when two scabby wandering monks pulled him down and shouted nonsense at him." The king ordered them seized. A crowd pushed the two monks into the rear hall of the law, before Taizong. The monks did not raise a hand and did not bow, but looked up and said, "Your Majesty, what do you want with us?" The Tang king knew him and said, "You are the monk who gave the cassock the other day?" The bodhisattva said, "I am." Taizong said, "If you came here to listen to the preaching, you should have taken a meal and sat still. Why did you shout at my master and disturb the hall of scripture and hinder my work for the Buddha?" The bodhisattva said, "Your master preaches the Lesser Vehicle, which cannot raise the dead to heaven. I have the three baskets of the Greater Vehicle law, which can free the dead from suffering and give a body of life that does not decay." Taizong, serious and glad, asked, "Where is this Greater Vehicle law of yours?" The bodhisattva said, "With our Buddha the Tathagata at the Thunderclap Monastery in the land of India in the far west. It can untie the knots of a hundred grievances and wipe out undeserved disaster." Taizong said, "Can you recite it?" The bodhisattva said, "I remember it." Taizong was overjoyed and said, "Let the master lead you up. Please take the platform and preach."

The bodhisattva took Moksha with her and flew up to the high platform, stepped onto lucky clouds, and rose straight to the ninth heaven, showing her own true body, the saver from suffering, holding the pure vase and the willow branch. On her left was Moksha, called Hui'an, a staff in his hand, his spirit high. The Tang king bowed toward heaven for joy, and the civil and military officers knelt on the ground and burned incense. In the whole monastery there was not one monk, nun, Daoist, or layman, craftsman or merchant, who did not bow and pray: "What a bodhisattva! What a bodhisattva!" There is a hymn to prove it. This is what was seen:

Holy mist scattered in a thousand colors; blessed light guarded her body of the law. In the ninth heaven, amid the starry River, appeared a true one in a woman's form. On her head the bodhisattva wore a coronet of gold leaves and kingfisher feathers, hung with pearls, shedding gold light and breathing holy air. On her body she wore a plain blue robe, pale in color and lightly adorned, coiled with gold dragons and flying painted phoenixes. At her breast hung carved pendants of fragrant jade, bright as the moon, moving with the clear wind, set with pearls and kingfisher stones. At her waist was bound a skirt of brocade and plush, of ice-silkworm thread with woven gold edges, that mounts the colored clouds and crosses the jade sea. Before her went a white parrot with yellow down and a red beak, that had flown the eastern ocean and traveled the whole world, grateful and filial. In her hand she carried the precious vase that gives grace and aids the world, and in the vase stood a willow branch that sprinkles the blue sky, casts down great evil, and sweeps away the last of the mist. Jade rings threaded her embroidered clasps; deep beneath her feet sank the golden lotus. The Three Heavens allowed her to come and go. This truly was Guanyin, who saves from suffering and distress.

The Tang king in his joy forgot his rivers and mountains, and the civil and military officers, in their love, forgot the manners of the court; and the whole crowd chanted, "Homage to the Bodhisattva Guanyin." Taizong gave orders at once that a painter of skill should copy the bodhisattva's true likeness. At the order they chose Wu Daozi, who drew gods and painted saints with far-reaching genius (the same man who later painted the meritorious officers on the Lingyan Pavilion). He spread out his wonderful brush and painted her true form. But the bodhisattva's cloud moved farther and farther away, and in a moment the gold light was gone. Then, spinning down from mid-air, came a paper slip bearing a few lines of verse, plainly written. The verse said:

Homage to the sovereign of Great Tang: in the west there are wonderful scriptures.The road runs a hundred and eight thousand li; go earnestly for the Greater Vehicle.When this scripture is brought back to the kingdom, it can free the ghosts from their throngs.If any is willing to go, he will win the true fruit and a golden body.

When Taizong read the verse, he ordered the monks: "Close the assembly for now. When I have sent men to fetch the scriptures of the Greater Vehicle, we will take up this loyal work again and win the good fruit anew." No officer failed to obey. Then he asked there in the monastery: "Who will take my order and go to the western heaven to bow to the Buddha and seek the scriptures?" Before the words were done, the master stepped from the crowd, bowed before the Emperor, and said, "I, a poor monk, have no gifts, but I wish to serve like a dog or a horse, and to fetch the true scriptures for Your Majesty, praying to keep our sovereign's rivers and mountains firm forever." The Tang king was overjoyed, stepped forward, and raised him with his own hand, saying, "Master, if you will give such loyal service, and are not afraid of the long road, the crossing of mountains and rivers, then I am willing to be sworn brothers with you." Xuanzang bowed his head and thanked him. The Tang king was truly a most worthy sovereign: he went before the Buddha in that monastery and bowed to Xuanzang four times, calling him "my imperial brother, the holy monk." Xuanzang, thankful beyond words, said, "Your Majesty, what virtue or power have I, a poor monk, to be so favored by heaven's grace? I will give my body and all my strength on this journey, straight to the western heaven. If I do not reach the western heaven and do not get the true scriptures, I will not dare return to the kingdom though I die, but will fall forever into the hell of the sunk." Then he lit incense before the Buddha and swore it. The Tang king was delighted. He ordered his carriage home, saying they would choose a lucky day for the travel pass and the departure, and the company broke up and went their ways.

Xuanzang went back to the Hongfu Monastery. The monks of the monastery and his few disciples had already heard of the journey to fetch the scriptures, and came to see him, asking, "Is it true that you have vowed to go to the western heaven?" Xuanzang said, "It is true." His disciples said, "Master, we have heard it said that the road to the western heaven is far, and there are tigers, leopards, and devils on it. We fear you may go and never come back, and lose your life." Xuanzang said, "I have sworn a great vow: if I do not bring back the true scriptures, may I fall forever into the hell of the sunk. It is that I have received the favor of the king, and must give my loyalty to repay my country. This journey of mine is truly into the dim and distant; good or evil, no one can say." He added, "Disciples, after I go, whether two or three years, or five or seven, watch the pine branch at the mountain gate: when it points east, I am coming back. If not, I shall not return." The disciples took these words and remembered them well.

Early the next morning Taizong held court, gathered the civil and military officers, wrote out the travel rescript for the scriptures, and stamped it with the great seal of passage. The Board of Astronomy reported, "Today the star of honor for men rules; it is fit for a long journey." The Tang king was pleased. Then the gate officer reported, "Your imperial brother the master waits outside the gate for your orders." He was called at once to the treasure hall. The king said, "Imperial brother, today is a lucky day for travel. Here is the pass through the passes. I have also a purple-gold alms bowl for you, to beg your food with on the road. I have chosen two long-distance attendants for you, and I grant you a horse for your journey's strength. Go on your way." Xuanzang was delighted, thanked him, took the things, and had no thought of delay. The Tang king set out his carriage and went with his officers to see him beyond the gate. The monks of the Hongfu Monastery and the disciples had brought Xuanzang's winter and summer clothes and waited outside the gate. The Tang king ordered the baggage and horses made ready first, then had an officer bring the wine pot and fill the cup. Taizong raised the cup and asked, "Imperial brother, what name shall we call you by?" Xuanzang said, "I am a man who has left home; I dare not take a title." Taizong said, "The bodhisattva said there are three baskets of scripture in the west. Take your name from the scriptures, imperial brother, and be called Tripitaka. What do you say?" Xuanzang thanked him again, took the cup of wine, and said, "Your Majesty, wine is the first rule a monk breaks. I have never drunk wine in my life." Taizong said, "This journey is not like other matters. This is vegetarian wine. Drink this one cup, to show my farewell." Tripitaka could not refuse. He took the cup and was about to drink, when Taizong bent down, took a pinch of dust from the ground with his finger, and flicked it into the wine. Tripitaka did not understand. Taizong laughed and said, "Imperial brother, on this journey of yours, when will you come back from the western heaven?" Tripitaka said, "In three years I shall come straight back to the kingdom." Taizong said, "The days will be long and the years deep, the mountains far and the roads distant. Drink this wine, imperial brother: Better to cling to one pinch of your home soil than to love ten thousand taels of gold in a strange land." Then Tripitaka understood the meaning of the pinch of dust. He thanked him again and drank the cup dry, said farewell, and went out through the gate. The Tang king turned his carriage home.

But how did this journey go? Listen to the next chapter to find out.