Chapter 19

In Cloud-Ladder Cave Wukong Takes In Bajie; on Stupa Mountain Xuanzang Receives the Heart Sutra

Now the monster's fire-light ran before, and the Great Sage's colored clouds followed after. As they went they came upon a high mountain, where the monster gathered in his red light, showed his true form, dashed into the cave, fetched out a nine-toothed rake, and came back to fight. Pilgrim roared: “Brazen monster! What devil are you, from where? How do you know old Sun's name? What powers have you? Confess truly, and I spare your life.” The monster said: “It is you who do not know my powers. Come up and stand firm, and I will tell you. I:

From birth my nature was dull and slow; I loved ease, loved idleness, without cease.I never nursed my nature nor trained the truth; muddled and beguiled at heart, I wore away the days.Suddenly in my leisure I met a true immortal; we sat down and exchanged the talk of warmth and cold.He urged me to turn my heart, not to sink among common men, taking life and heaping sins past number.Some day when the great term ends and life is spent, in the eight distresses and the three paths there is no end of regret.Hearing, my mind turned to practice; at the word my heart wheeled, seeking the wondrous formula.With karma I bowed to him as master on the spot, and he pointed out heaven's gates and earth's palaces.I received the great returning elixir of nine turnings, and labored day and night without a pause.Up to the crown's palace of the Pith Pearl; down to the bubbling spring in the sole of the foot.The waters of the kidneys circled into the flowery pool; the elixir field was fed to a gentle warmth.The babe and the maiden matched yin and yang; lead and mercury wed, dividing sun and moon.The dragon of Fire and the tiger of Water were brought to accord; the numinous tortoise drained the golden crow's blood.The three flowers gathered at the crown, and I returned to the root; the five breaths faced the source, clear through and through.The work round and the labor full, I flew aloft; immortal pairs came down to meet me.Bright beneath my feet colored clouds rose; body light, frame sound, I faced the golden gates.The Jade Emperor feasted the assembled immortals, each ranked in his grade, drawn up in their lines.By edict I was sealed Marshal over the Sky River, commander-in-chief of the water soldiery, bearer of the marshal's staff.Only because the Queen Mother held her peach banquet, opening the feast at the Jade Pool and bidding all her guests—That day, wine-flushed and wit beclouded, I toppled east and staggered west, rampant and wild.Flaunting my valor I burst into the Palace of Vast Cold, and the graceful fairy came out to meet me.Her beauty carried away my soul; the old mortal heart was hard to put out.All sense of rank was gone, honor and degree lost; I seized Chang'e and would have her stay with me.Again and yet again she would not consent, dodging east and hiding west, and my heart grew dark.My lust was bold as the sky, my voice like thunder: it all but shook the gates of heaven down.The Numinous Officer of Inspection reported me to the Jade Emperor—that day my fate and fortune were at their worst.Vast Cold was ringed about, wind-tight; no way in or out, no escape to be had.So the gods laid hands on me—and the wine still in my head, I did not quail.I was taken to the Hall of Numinous Mist before the Jade Emperor, tried by the law, and condemned to die.Thanks be to the Gold Star of Venus, Li, who stepped from the ranks, bowed low, and pleaded in person.The sentence was changed to two thousand blows of the mallet: flesh split, skin torn, bones near broken.My life spared, I was banished out the gates of heaven, to make a living at the foot of Mount Fuling.For my sins I entered the wrong womb; my common name is Zhu Ganglie.”

Pilgrim heard and said: “So you are the water god Tianpeng come down into the world; no wonder you know old Sun's name.” The monster barked: “Ha! You heaven-defying Bimawen: when you broke out into that old trouble, how much grief you brought on the likes of me — and now you come here to bully men again. No rudeness now — taste my rake!” How would Pilgrim spare him? He raised the staff and struck at the head. The two of them fought on the mountainside in the black night. A fine fight:

Pilgrim's golden eyes flash like lightning; the goblin's ringed eyes gleam like silver flowers. This one breathes out colored mist; that one vents a vapor of red cloud. The vapor of red cloud lights the dark; the colored mist from his mouth glitters through the night. The gold-banded staff, the nine-toothed rake — two champions worth all praise: one the Great Sage come down among men, one the Marshal fallen to the world's end. That one, for loss of his state dignity, became a monster; this one, escaping bitter distress, bowed to the monkhood. The rake goes out like a dragon stretching claws; the staff comes in like a phoenix threading flowers. That one cries: “To break a marriage is to slay a father!” This one cries: “To force a young girl — justly seized!” Idle words, a roar and clatter; back and forth the staff bars the rake. Look: they fight till heaven grows pale, and the goblin feels both arms go weak and numb.

The two fought from the second watch until the east whitened. The monster could stand against him no longer, broke and fled, turned into a wild wind again, made straight for his cave, barred the door fast, and never showed himself. Outside the cave door Pilgrim saw a stone tablet bearing the three characters Cloud-Ladder Cave. Seeing the monster would not come out, and the sky broad day, he thought: “My master must be waiting; let me go back and see him first, then come take this monster — no great haste.” He trod the cloud once, and was at Gao Old Village.

Now Tripitaka and the old men had talked of past and present all night without sleep. He was just wondering at Pilgrim's absence when Pilgrim suddenly stood in the courtyard. Pilgrim stowed the iron staff, tidied his dress, and came up the hall, calling: “Master, I am back.” In a fluster the old men all bowed, thanking him: “Much labor, much labor!” Tripitaka asked: “Wukong, you were gone all night — where have you taken the goblin?” Pilgrim said: “Master, that goblin is no vulgar sprite of the common world, no mountain beast grown strange. He was Marshal Tianpeng come down to earth; only, entering the wrong womb, his face is like a wild boar's, though his spirit lives. He says he took his surname from his looks, and is called Zhu Ganglie. Old Sun drew the staff on him in the back rooms and struck; he turned into a wild wind and ran. Old Sun smote at the wind; he turned into a stream of fire-light and made straight to the cave in his own mountain, fetched out a nine-toothed rake, and fought old Sun the night through. Just now, at the break of day, he turned coward and fled, barred the cave door, and will not come out. Old Sun would burst the door and settle him; but fearing you would worry and wait here, I came first to bring the news.”

When he had finished, old Gao came up and knelt: “Elder, I am at my wits' end. You may have driven him off, but when you are gone he will come again — then what am I to do? Take him once for all, root and branch, and there will be no more trouble. I, your old servant, will not be slack in my thanks: this estate and these acres, with all our kin and friends as witnesses, shall be set down in writing and divided equally with the elder. Only cut the grass and tear the root, and do not shame the good name of my house of Gao.” Pilgrim laughed: “Old man, you do not know the measure of things. The monster told me himself: great as his belly is, though he ate your tea and rice, he did you many a good turn; in these years he has won you much estate, and by his strength alone. He never ate your bread for nothing. Why would you drive him out? By his own tale he is a heaven-god come down, working like a slave for your house, and he never harmed your daughter. A son-in-law like that is a match of house for house; he has not shamed your family name or stained your conduct. Truly you might keep him.” Old Gao said: “Elder, though no scandal to morals, the name does not sound well: the first thing, folk cry, 'The Gaos have taken in a goblin for a son-in-law.' How could I stomach that word?” Tripitaka said: “Wukong, since you have begun the business with him, carry it through and make an end; so shall there be a beginning and an end.” Pilgrim said: “I was only trying him, for sport. This time I will certainly bring him for you to see. Do not worry. Old Gao, look after my master well; old Sun is off.”

He said he was going, and shapeless and shadowless he sprang to the mountain, came to the cave mouth, and with one round of the iron staff beat the two doors to splinters, bawling: “You bran-bellied lout, come out and fight old Sun!” The monster lay gasping asleep in the cave; hearing the door beaten, and hearing himself called a bran-bellied lout, he could not stomach it, took up his rake, braced his spirit, ran out, and cursed loud and harsh: “You Bimawen, you are a scurvy fellow indeed. What is it to you that you smash my front gate? Go read the law: to break in by the front gate is a hanging matter, if you please.” Pilgrim laughed: “You Idiot! If I smashed the gate, there is still my defense to plead. But you, forcing a house's daughter, with no matchmakers three nor witnesses six, no tea-gift nor wine-offering — yours is the true offense, and the axe is your due.” The monster said: “No idle talk — look to old Pig's rake!” Pilgrim barred it with the staff: “Is this the rake you hoed ground and planted greens with as a hired hand at the Gaos'? What good thing is in it, that I should fear it?” The monster said: “You mistake it. Is this rake a thing of the common world? Listen, and I will tell you:

This is forged of spirit ice-iron, ground and polished to its craft, its light snow-bright.The Lord Lao himself plied the hammer; the Fire Star in person fed the coals.The five emperors of the five quarters racked their wits; the six Dings and six Jias spent their pains.Nine teeth it has, jade pendants hung; two rings it bears, of gold leaf wrought.Its body bears the six lights ranked with the five stars; its frame follows the four seasons, ordered by the eight nodes.Short and long, above and below, fix heaven and earth; left and right, yin and yang, part sun and moon.The spirit generals of the six lines follow heaven's rule; the eight trigrams' stars are ranked by the Dipper.It is named the Highest Treasure, the Gold-Seeping Rake, and was presented to the Jade Emperor to guard his cinnabar gates.Because I had trained to be an immortal of the Great Web, it was wrought for me, my guest of long life.I was sealed marshal by edict, styled Tianpeng, and the rake bestowed by the emperor's own gift to be my badge of command.Raised, it blazes with fierce flame and piercing light; lowered, it whirls wild wind and drifts auspicious snow.The spirit generals of heaven's courts are all astounded; the kings of hell in the dark courts feel their hearts go faint.Among men there is no such weapon; in the world there is no such iron.It changes with its bearer, lodged in the heart's embrace; it tumbles and turns at will, obedient to the spoken formula.Hand in hand these many years, it has never left me; at my side these many seasons, no day of parting.At my three meals a day it is not laid aside; at night's one sleep it is never put off.I have worn it to the banquet of the peaches; I have borne it to court before the emperor's gates.All because, bolstered by wine, I did violence; only because, leaning on strength, I ran riot.Heaven banished me down to the dust of the world; in the world below I did nothing but sin.In the stone cave, heart awry, I ate men; at Gao's village, gladly, a marriage was tied.This rake, down the sea, overturns the lairs of dragons and alligators; up the mountains it tears apart the dens of tigers and wolves.Speak no more of weapons of every kind: of all under heaven my rake bites deepest.To hold my ground and win—what difficulty? To fight for merit—no need to speak of it.Why should I fear your copper head and iron pate, your body all of steel? Let the rake come down, and soul dissolves and spirit leaks away.”

Pilgrim heard, put up the iron staff, and said: “Idiot, do not brag. Old Sun will hold out his head right there: strike it once, and see whether soul and spirit leak away.” The monster truly raised the rake and drove with all his force — whang! — sparks sprang from the rake's teeth in a blaze, yet never stirred the skin of the head. Fright turned his hands to floss and his feet to water: “A head! A head!” Pilgrim said: “You do not know, it seems. Because old Sun wrecked the heavenly palace, stole the elixir, robbed the peaches, and filched the imperial wine, the True Lord Erlang took me and had me bound before the Palace of the Dipper and the Ox; the gods of heaven hacked me with axes and rang on me with hammers, slashed me with knives and stabbed me with swords, burned me with fire and battered me with thunder, and never marred me a hair. Then the Supreme Lord Lao took me and set me in the Furnace of the Eight Trigrams, to be tempered in spirit fire, till I came out with eyes of fire and pupils of gold, a head of bronze and arms of iron. If you do not believe it, strike a few blows more, and see whether it hurts.” The monster said: “You monkey, I remember when you wrecked the heavenly palace your home was in Water Curtain Cave on Flower-Fruit Mountain in the country of Aolai, Pūrvavideha of the four continents; and now, so long unheard of, how do you come here to my very door to bully me? Could it be my father-in-law sent to fetch you there?” Pilgrim said: “Your father-in-law sent no one. It is that old Sun has turned from evil to right, quit the Dao for the monkhood, and guards a royal brother of the Great Tang of the Land of the East, one Master Tripitaka, going to the Western Heaven to bow before Buddha and fetch the scriptures. Passing Gao's village we begged lodging, and old Gao, when the talk turned to it, asked me to save his daughter and take you, you bran-bellied lout.”

At these words the monster dropped the rake, made a great salutation, and said: “Where is this seeker of the scriptures? I beg you bring me before him.” Pilgrim said: “What would you with him?” The monster said: “It was the Bodhisattva Guanyin who urged me to goodness; I received her precepts and have kept a vegetable table here, and she bade me follow the seeker of the scriptures to the Western Heaven to bow before Buddha and fetch the scriptures, to turn merit against sin and win right fruition. She bade me wait for him these years, and never a word. Now that you are his disciple, why did you not speak of the scriptures at once, instead of trusting to your violence and beating down my door?” Pilgrim said: “Do not cozen me with tricks and softness, planning your escape. If you truly mean to guard the Tang monk, without a grain of falsehood, then swear it toward heaven, and I will take you to my master.” The monster flopped down on his knees, and beat the empty air like a stamping ram, knocking his head without pause: “Amitabha, homage to Buddha! If I am not true of heart and of purpose, may I break heaven's law again and be cut in ten thousand pieces!” Seeing him swear his vow, Pilgrim said: “If it is so, set a fire and burn this lodging of yours; then I will take you.” The monster truly hauled some reeds and thorn and lit a fire, and burned Cloud-Ladder Cave like a shattered kiln. He said to Pilgrim: “I have no encumbrance now; lead me away.” Pilgrim said: “Give me the rake to carry.” The monster handed it over. Pilgrim plucked a hair, blew a mouthful of immortal breath, cried “Change!”—and it became a three-strand hempen rope, and he came and bound the monster's hands behind him. The monster truly folded his arms behind and let himself be bound as he would; then Pilgrim took him by the ear, hauling him, crying: “Make haste, make haste.” The monster said: “Gently! Your hand is heavy; you pull the root of my ear till it aches.” Pilgrim said: “No gentling, and no sparing of you. The saying goes: 'The good pig is taken roughly.' When you have seen my master, and it proves a true heart, then I let you go.” The two of them, half cloud, half fog, turned back to Gao's village. There is a poem to prove it:

Metal's nature, hard and strong, subdues wood; the mind-ape tames the wood-dragon home.Metal yielding to wood, the two are one; wood cleaving to metal's kindness, both bear fruit.One host, one guest, no gap between; three crossings, three unions, mystery within mystery.Nature and temper joined rejoice, the true source gathered: together they attest the West, and no word falls wide.

In a moment they were before the village. Pilgrim, gripping the rake and hauling the ear, said: “Look who sits above in the hall: that is my master.” The kin and friends of the Gaos, and old Gao, seeing Pilgrim come with the monster bound and hauled by the ear, came joyfully to meet him in the courtyard, crying: “Elder, elder! It is indeed our son-in-law.” The monster came up, knelt on both knees, hands behind him, knocked his head to Tripitaka, and cried: “Master, your disciple failed to receive you. Had I known my master lodged at my father-in-law's, I would have come out to greet you — why should we have suffered all these turnings?” Tripitaka said: “Wukong, how did you subdue him, that he bows to me?” Only then did Pilgrim let go, and he rapped him with the rake's shaft, crying: “Idiot, speak.” The monster told over in full how the Bodhisattva had urged him to goodness.

Tripitaka rejoiced greatly, and called: “Squire Gao, fetch an incense table for our use.” Old Gao brought it out in haste. Tripitaka washed his hands, burned incense, and bowed toward the south: “Deeply I thank the Bodhisattva's sacred grace.” The old men too added incense and bowed together. The bows done, Tripitaka took the seat of honor in the hall and bade Wukong loose his rope. Pilgrim shook his body once, drew the hair back into himself, and the binding fell away of itself. The monster worshiped Tripitaka again from the first, wishing to follow him west; and he bowed to Pilgrim, the elder-comer to be counted elder brother, and called Pilgrim senior brother. Tripitaka said: “Since you turn to my good fruit and would be a disciple, let me give you a dharma name, for calling morning and evening.” He said: “Master, the Bodhisattva has already laid her hand on my crown and given me the precepts, and given me a dharma name: Zhu Wuneng.” Tripitaka laughed: “Good, good. Your senior brother is called Wukong, and you Wuneng: truly the school of our gate.” Wuneng said: “Master, I received the Bodhisattva's precepts and cut off the five strong flavors and the three forbiddens; in my father-in-law's house I kept a vegetable table and never touched flesh. Today I have seen my master — let me end my fast.” Tripitaka said: “Not so, not so. Since you eat neither the five strong flavors nor the three forbiddens, I give you a byname besides: Bajie — Eight Prohibitions.” The Idiot rejoiced: “I obey my master's word.” And so he was also called Zhu Bajie.

Old Gao, seeing this turning from wrong to right, rejoiced the more, and ordered his servants to lay a feast and thank the Tang monk. Bajie stepped up and caught the old man: “Father, call my poor wife out to bow to her father-in-law and her uncles — how would that be?” Pilgrim laughed: “Worthy brother, now you have entered the gate of the monkhood and become a monk, never again speak that word of your poor wife. In this world there are married Daoists, but where is there a married monk? Let us take our seats in order, eat a vegetarian meal, and be off early toward the Western Heaven.” Old Gao spread the tables, begged Tripitaka to the seat of honor, set Pilgrim and Bajie on either hand, and the kin below. Old Gao opened a jug of unfermented wine, filled a cup brimming, poured an offering to heaven and earth, and offered it to Tripitaka. Tripitaka said: “I will not hide it from you, squire: your poor monk was vegetarian from the womb and has never eaten flesh.” Old Gao said: “Knowing your purity, master, I dared not set flesh. This wine too is unfermented; one cup cannot hurt.” Tripitaka said: “Nor can I take wine: wine is the first prohibition of the monkhood.” Wuneng was in a fluster: “Master, I have kept the fast, but I never cut off wine.” Wukong said: “Old Sun's capacity is small — a jar or so and he is done — but he never cut off wine either.” Tripitaka said: “Then let you two brothers take a little unfermented wine; only do not drink to drunkenness and mar the journey.” So the two took the first cups; each sat as before, and the vegetarian feast was spread. No words can tell the crowding of the cups and plates, the wealth of the dishes.

The feast done, old Gao brought out a vermilion-lacquered tray bearing two hundred taels of silver in broken bits, to offer the three elders for their expenses on the road; and three gowns of wadded cotton, for traveling wear. Tripitaka said: “We are traveling monks: at every farm we beg our rice, at every place we beg our meal. How should we dare take silver and goods?” Pilgrim came near, spread his hand, and grabbed a handful: “Gao Cai, yesterday you were troubled to guide my master; today a disciple is enlisted — and I have nothing to thank you with. Take this broken gold and silver as leading-money, and buy straw sandals with it. Hereafter, if any goblins come, contrive me a few more such — there will be more thanks for you.” Gao Cai took it, kowtowed, and thanked the gift. Old Gao said again: “Since the masters will not take silver, let them smilingly accept these coarse clothes, as a token of my poor heart.” Tripitaka said again: “For a man of religion to take one thread of bribes is a thousand kalpas' hindrance to his cultivation. Only let us take some of the bakes and fruit the table cannot finish, for dry rations on the road, and that is enough.”

Bajie put in at his side: “Master, senior brother, if you will not have them, so be it; but I was son-in-law in this house these years — my standing fodder alone should come to three piculs. Father-in-law, my gown was torn last night by my senior brother: give me a gown of blue brocade; my shoes are burst: give me a fine new pair.” Old Gao heard, and dared not refuse: he bought a pair of new shoes and gave a gown, and changed out the old clothes. Bajie swayed and swaggered, saluted old Gao, and said: “Carry my respects to my mother-in-law, to the elder and the younger aunts, and to the uncles and the cousins and all the kin: today I go to be a monk, and cannot take my leave in person — do not blame me. And father-in-law, look after my wife well: for fear that if we do not win the scriptures, I may come back and leave the cloth again, and live with you as son-in-law as before.” Pilgrim bawled: “Lout, no such talk!” Bajie said: “It is no idle talk. Only suppose some slip should come — should the monk not be made, and the wife not be married, and both be thrown away together?”

Tripitaka said: “Less of this idle talk; let us be off early.” So they packed one load of baggage, which Bajie carried; led out the white horse, which Tripitaka rode; and Pilgrim bore the iron staff on his shoulder, leading the way. The three of one company took leave of old Gao and all the kin and friends, and went away west. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

The ground is thick with mist and glow, the trees climb high; the Buddha's son of the Tang labors wearily on.When hungry, one bowl: the rice of a thousand houses; when cold, one cassock: a thousand stitches' robe.The horse of the mind—let it not run loose in the breast; the ape of the heart, wayward and stubborn—teach it not to howl.When feeling and nature are stilled, all the karma meets; when the moon is full in the golden flower, the old coat is plucked away.

The three went west along the road a full month in peace. Past the bounds of Wusizhang they lifted their eyes suddenly upon a high mountain. Tripitaka reined in and checked the horse: “Wukong, Wuneng, the mountain ahead is high; we must be careful, careful.” Bajie said: “No matter. This mountain is called Stupa Mountain; in it a Chan master dwells in practice, the Crow's Nest Chan Master — old Pig once met him.” Tripitaka said: “And what is his business?” Bajie said: “He has some measure of the Way. He once urged me to follow him in practice, and I did not go.” Talking as they went, master and disciples were soon up the mountain. A fine mountain! Behold:

On the mountain's south green pines and emerald junipers; on the north green willows and red peach. Loud and clamorous, the mountain birds talk in pairs; dancing and drifting, the immortal cranes fly together. Fragrant and thick, the flowers in a thousand hues; green and fresh, the grasses in ten thousand strange varieties. Below the ravine the green waters roll and tumble; before the cliff the auspicious clouds fold and fold. Truly a place of scenery wondrously secluded, and still — not a soul comes or goes.

The master, gazing from the saddle, saw before a fragrant juniper a nest of brush and grass; on the left elk bore flowers in their mouths, on the right mountain monkeys offered fruit; on the treetops green luan-birds and painted phoenixes cried together, and dark cranes and birds of plumage gathered. Bajie pointed: “Is not that the Crow's Nest Chan Master?” Tripitaka whipped up his horse and rode straight to the tree.

The Chan master, seeing the three come, left his nest at once and jumped down from the tree. Tripitaka dismounted and bowed, and the master raised him with his hand: “Holy monk, rise, I beg you. I failed to receive you, I failed to receive you.” Bajie said: “Old Chan Master, my salutations.” The master asked in astonishment: “Are you not Zhu Ganglie of Mount Fuling? How have you such great karma, to travel with the holy monk?” Bajie said: “Years ago the Bodhisattva Guanyin urged me to goodness, and I promised to follow him as a disciple.” The master rejoiced greatly: “Good, good, good!” Then he pointed at Pilgrim and asked: “And who is this?” Pilgrim laughed: “How is it this old Chan master knows him, and does not know me?” The master said: “Only that my acquaintance is small.” Tripitaka said: “He is my chief disciple, Sun Wukong.” The master said smiling, in apology: “My rudeness, my rudeness.”

Tripitaka bowed again: “May I ask — where still lies the Thunderclap Monastery of the Western Heaven?” The master said: “Far, far. And the road throngs with tigers and leopards; it will not be easy.” Tripitaka pressed his courtesy, and asked again: “How far is the road, truly?” The master said: “Far as the road is, there will be a day of arriving; only the miasmas of the demons are hard to clear. I have one scroll, the Sutra of the Heart of Many Hearts, fifty-four lines in all, two hundred and seventy characters. Wherever you meet the demons' miasma, recite this sutra, and it will work you no harm.” Tripitaka bowed to the ground and begged it, and the master recited it to him from his own mouth. The sutra says:

The Heart Sutra of the Perfection of Wisdom: The Bodhisattva of Self-Mastery, moving in the deep perfection of wisdom, saw in his own light that the five aggregates are all empty, and crossed beyond all suffering and distress. Shariputra, form is no different from emptiness; emptiness is no different from form. Form is emptiness; emptiness is form. Feeling, thought, impulse, and consciousness are also thus. Shariputra, the true character of all things is emptiness: not born, not destroyed; not stained, not pure; not increasing, not decreasing. Therefore in emptiness there is no form, and no feeling, thought, impulse, or consciousness; no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind; no sight, sound, scent, taste, touch, or thought; no realm of the eye, down to no realm of mind-consciousness; no ignorance, nor ending of ignorance; down to no old age and death, nor ending of old age and death. No suffering, no source, no cessation, no path; no wisdom, and no attainment. Because there is nothing to attain, the bodhisattva, through the perfection of wisdom, has a heart without hindrance; and because the heart has no hindrance, there is no fear. Far from inverted, dreamlike thinking, he comes at last to nirvana. All the Buddhas of the three times, through the perfection of wisdom, have won the utmost, right, and perfect awakening. Know then that the perfection of wisdom is the great spirit-spell, the spell of great light, the spell beyond all, the spell without equal, able to remove all suffering — true, and not false. Therefore he proclaimed the spell of the perfection of wisdom, and proclaimed it, saying: “Gate, gate, paragate, parasamgate, bodhi svaha!”

Now the master of the Tang was rooted from the first: hearing the Sutra of the Heart of Many Hearts once, he had it by heart, and it has been handed down to this day. This is the general sutra of true cultivation, the meeting-gate of Buddhahood.

The Chan master, having delivered the sutra, trod the cloud-light to go up to his crow's nest; but Tripitaka caught him and begged him, determined to ask the very truth of the westward road. The master answered with a smile:

The road is not hard to walk; listen to my charges.A thousand mountains, a thousand deep waters; miasmas many, and haunts of demons.If you meet a cliff that leans on heaven, be of good heart, and do not fear.When you come to the Rub-the-Ear crag, turn your feet and pick your steps.Beware the wood of black pines: fox-goblins lie athwart the road.Spirits throng the walled cities; demon lords swarm on the mountains.The tiger sits in the magistrate's hall; the gray wolf keeps the register.Lions and elephants all style themselves kings; tigers and leopards serve as chariots.A wild boar shall carry the loads; a water goblin you shall meet ahead.An old stone monkey of many years—see that no wrath breeds in him.Ask the one who knows him; he knows the road that goes west.

Pilgrim heard and laughed coldly: “As for us, we need ask no one: ask me.” Tripitaka did not take his meaning. The master turned into a gold light and went straight up to his crow's nest. The elder bowed upward in thanks, but Pilgrim's heart blazed with anger: he raised the iron staff and hammered upward at random — and only saw lotus flowers spring by the ten-thousandth, auspicious mist guarding layer upon layer. Pilgrim might have had the strength to churn the sea and overturn rivers: he could not catch so much as one vine strand of the Crow's Nest. Tripitaka saw, and caught his arm: “Wukong, such a Bodhisattva as that — why smash his nest?” Pilgrim said: “He rated us two brothers and was gone.” Tripitaka said: “He spoke of the western road — when did he revile you?” Pilgrim said: “How should you know? 'A wild boar shall carry the loads' — that was reviling Bajie; 'an old stone monkey of many years' — that was reviling old Sun. How would you read it otherwise?” Bajie said: “Senior brother, be calm. This Chan master knows things past and to come; but look at his line 'a water goblin you shall meet ahead' — who knows if it will hold? Let him go.” Pilgrim, seeing lotus flower and auspicious mist thick about the nest, could only ask the master to mount, and they went down the mountain and away west. On that going:

For him, quiet blessings in the world of men grow few; and in the hills, calamity and demons grow many.

But how the road ahead would truly fall out — listen to the next chapter to find out.

At Cloud Pathway Cave Wukong Takes in Bajie; on Pagoda Mountain Xuanzang Receives the Heart Sutra

Now the monster's firelight went before, and the Great Sage's colored clouds followed after. As they went, they saw a high mountain. The monster gathered his red light together, showed his true form, dashed into the cave, brought out a nine-toothed rake, and came to fight. Pilgrim shouted, "Brazen monster! What devil are you, from where? How do you know old Sun's name? What skill have you? Confess it truly, and I will spare your life." The monster said, "You do not know my skill either. Come up and stand firm, and I will tell you. I:

From birth my mind and nature were dull; I loved ease and idleness without a stop.I never nursed my nature or practiced the truth; my heart was muddled in the primal haze, wearing out the days and moons.Suddenly in my idleness I met a true immortal; we sat down and exchanged warm greetings.He urged me to turn my heart and not sink among the common, taking life and heaping sin past all bounds.Some day, when the great limit came and life ended, in the eight woes and the three paths I should repent without end.At his words my mind turned, set on the practice; at his speech my heart came round to beg the secret formula.By destiny I bowed to him as master then and there, and he showed me heaven's pass and earth's gates.I received the great returning elixir of nine turnings; the work went on day and night without a pause.Up to the Niwan palace at the crown of the head; down to the Gushing Spring point on the soles of the feet.The water of the kidneys circled into the flowery pool; the elixir field was fed to a gentle warmth.The babe and the fair maid were mated, yin with yang; lead and quicksilver joined, dividing sun and moon.The Li dragon and the Kan tiger were tuned to accord; the spirit tortoise drank the golden crow's blood to the last drop.The three flowers gathered at my crown, and I found the root; the five breaths turned to the source, clear through and through.When the work was rounded and my conduct full, I flew up, and the immortals came in pairs to welcome me.Bright under my feet rose clouds of many colors; light in body and strong, I paid court at the golden gates.The Jade Emperor spread a feast and gathered the immortals, each in his grade, filed rank on rank.By edict I was made Marshal over the Milky Way, commander of the water host under the badge of law.Only because the Queen Mother held her Peach Banquet, opening her feast at the Jade Pool and calling her guests,was I that day drunk, my senses sunk, lurching east and west, a wild rioter.In my boldness I burst into the Palace of Vast Cold, and the fairy of grace came out to meet me.Her beauty seized my soul; my old common heart could not be quenched.All sense of high and low, of honor and degree, was gone: I seized Chang'e and demanded that she rest with me.Again, again, a third, a fourth time, she would not consent, dodging east and hiding west, and my heart soured.My lust was bold as the sky, my voice like thunder: it nearly shook down the gates of heaven.The policing spirit officer reported me to the Jade Emperor; that day my fate ran ill.The Vast Cold Palace was ringed so no wind could pass; no door forward, no door back, no escape.Then the gods laid hands on me, and with the wine still in my heart I did not quake.I was escorted to the Numinous Sky Hall to see the Jade Emperor, judged by the law and condemned to die.Thanks to the Gold Star of Venus, Li Taibai, who stepped from the ranks, bowed low, and pleaded in person,the sentence was changed to two thousand blows of the mallet: flesh burst, skin split, bones near breaking.My life was spared, but I was banished out of heaven's gate, to make my living below Mount Fuling.Because of my sin I took the wrong womb, and my common name is Zhu Gangli."

Pilgrim heard and said, "So you are Marshal Tianpeng, the water god, come down into the world. No wonder you know old Sun's name." The monster snorted: "Hah! You deceiving Bimawen! When you stirred up that trouble of yours, you dragged the likes of us into it past counting, and today you come here to bully men again. No more rudeness: taste my rake!" How could Pilgrim spare him? He raised the rod and struck for the head. The two of them fought in the middle of the mountainside, in the black night. A fine fight:

Pilgrim's gold eyes flashed like lightning; the demon's ringed eyes glowed like silver flowers. This one sprayed colored mist; that one breathed red clouds. The red clouds he breathed lit up the dark; the colored mist he sprayed glowed in the night. The gold-banded rod, the nine-toothed rake: two heroes worth all praise. One is the Great Sage come down among men; one the Marshal fallen to the sky's edge. That one lost his dignity and became a monster; this one happily escaped his suffering and bows to the monk's estate. The rake strikes out like a dragon stretching claws; the rod comes up like a phoenix threading flowers. That one cries, "You break up a marriage like killing a father!" This one cries, "You forced a young girl: rightly you are seized!" Idle words and wild shouting, back and forth the rod fences the rake. See, the fight goes on till day is near, and the demon's two arms begin to ache.

The two fought from the second watch until the east grew light. The monster could hold out no longer, broke away, and fled, turned again into a wild wind, made straight back to the cave, shut the doors fast, and would not show his head. Outside the cave mouth Pilgrim saw a stone slab cut with the three characters "Cloud Pathway Cave." The monster would not come out, and the sky was now bright. He thought: "My master will be waiting. Let me go back and see him first, and then come to take this monster; no hurry." He trod the cloud once, and was at Gao Village.

Now Tripitaka and the elders had talked of past and present all night without sleep. Just as he was wondering at Pilgrim's absence, Pilgrim suddenly stood in the courtyard. Pilgrim put away the iron rod, straightened his clothes, came up into the hall, and called, "Master, I am back." The elders hurried to bow, thanking him: "You have labored hard, labored hard." Tripitaka asked, "Wukong, you were gone all night. Where is the demon you caught?" Pilgrim said, "Master, that demon is no common haunting of the world of men, no strange beast of the hills. He was Marshal Tianpeng come down to the world; only he took the wrong womb, and his face is like a wild boar's, but the spirit in him is still alive. He says he took his surname from his face, and is called Zhu Gangli. I drew the rod on him in the back rooms and struck, and he turned into a wild wind and fled. I struck one blow into the wind, and he turned into a streak of fire, went straight to his cave in his own mountain, brought out a nine-toothed rake, and fought me all night. Just now, at daybreak, he lost heart for the fight, ran, and shut his cave doors, and will not come out. I meant to break those doors down and have it out with him; but I feared you would worry and watch here, so I came to bring word first."

When he had done, Old Gao came forward, knelt, and said, "Elder, there is no help for it. Though you have driven him off, when you are gone he will come back. What then? Best of all, catch him for me and root him out, and there will be no more trouble after. I, your old servant, will not be slow in thanks: all this estate and farmland, with our kin and friends as witnesses, we will write into a deed and divide with you, elder. Only cut the grass and pull the root, and do not shame the good name of my house of Gao." Pilgrim laughed: "Old man, you do not know your measure. The monster told me himself: though his stomach is big, and he has eaten some tea and rice of yours, he has done you many a good turn. These years he has earned you much estate, all by his own strength. He never ate your food for nothing. Why would you drive him out? By his own word he is a heaven-god come down to the world, who labored for your house, and never harmed your daughter. A son-in-law like that is a match of even doors: no shame to the family name, no stain on conduct. Truly, you might as well keep him." Old Gao said, "Elder, though it hurts no decency, the name does not sound well. People are forever saying: 'The Gaos took a monster for a son-in-law.' How is a man to bear that word?" Tripitaka said, "Wukong, since you have begun the matter with him, see it through to an end for them, and show a beginning and an ending both." Pilgrim said, "I was only trying him out, for fun. I will certainly bring him back for you to see. Do not worry. Old Gao, look after my master well. I am off."

With the word "off" he was gone, without form and without shadow, up to the monster's mountain. At the cave mouth he brought the iron rod down once on the two doors and smashed them to pieces, shouting, "You chaff-stuffed lout, come out and fight old Sun!" The monster, snoring in the cave, heard the doors burst and heard himself called a chaff-stuffed lout, and could not stomach the insult. He dragged his rake out, braced his spirit, ran out, and cursed: "You Bimawen, what a wretch you are! What is it to you, that you break down my front gate? Go look at the law books: bursting in through a man's front gate is a capital crime among the lesser ones." Pilgrim laughed: "You lout! If I broke your gate, I have my defense. But you: you forced your way into a family's daughter, with no three go-betweens and six witnesses, no tea and red silk, no wine and gifts. That deserves the true criminal's death, the axe." The monster said, "No more idle talk. Look at old Pig's rake!" Pilgrim fenced it with his rod: "Is this the rake you hired out to Old Gao's house to break ground and plant greens? What is so fine about it, that I should fear you?" The monster said, "You mistake it. This rake is no mortal thing. Hear me:

It was wrought of divine ice-iron, ground and polished to a clean, bright gleam.The Lord Lao himself swung hammer and tongs; the Fire Star in person fed it coals and char.The five emperors of the five quarters set their wits to it; the six dings and six jias took pains without end.It was shaped with nine teeth hung of jade, cast with twin rings and pendants of gold.Its body is graced with the six luminaries, ranged with the five stars; its frame follows the four seasons, keeping the eight seasons.Short and long, high and low, it fixes heaven and earth; left and right, yin and yang, it parts the sun and moon.Its six-line spirit captains keep the statutes of heaven; its eight signs and stars are ranked by the Dipper.It is named the Upper Treasure, the Gold-Soaking Rake, offered up to the Jade Emperor to guard the cinnabar gates.Because I had cultivated into an immortal of the highest heaven, it was kept for me, a comrade of long life.By edict I was made Marshal, titled Tianpeng, and the throne bestowed this rake as my badge of office.Raised, it blazes with fierce flame and shooting light; lowered, it whips a wild wind and drifts lucky snow.The spirit generals of the courts of heaven are all aghast; King Yama in the dark world quakes at heart.The world of men has no such weapon; under heaven there is no such iron.It changes at my side and lies against my breast; it tumbles and turns at will, by the word of the mouth.I have carried it years and never left it; it has kept me company, never a day apart.At my three meals a day it is not set aside; through the night's sleep it is never once put down.I have worn it to the Peach Banquet; I have borne it to bow at the Emperor's gates.All because I trusted the wine and did violence, relying on my strength to run wild,heaven banished me down into the dust; here below I spent myself in sin.In the stone cave, with an evil heart, I ate men; at Gao Village, love was glad, and the marriage was tied.This rake, down in the sea, overturns the nests of dragons and alligators; up the mountain it tears open the dens of tigers and wolves.Say nothing of other weapons of every kind: mine is the rake that strikes most true.In a lock of arms to win is nothing hard; in a fight for glory, no more need be said.What fear have I of your copper head and iron brain, all steel? Let my rake land, and soul melts and spirit leaks away."

Pilgrim heard this, put up the iron rod, and said, "Lout, do not boast. Let old Sun hold out my head here: strike it once, and we shall see whether soul melts and spirit leaks." The monster truly raised the rake and struck with all his force. With a thud the rake points burst into sparks — and not a hair of scalp was stirred. His hands went numb and his legs went soft: "What a head! What a head!" Pilgrim said, "You do not know me. Because I wrecked the Heavenly Palace, stole the elixir, robbed the peaches, and made off with the imperial wine, the Illustrious Sage True Lord, Erlang, caught me and had me held before the Dipper-and-Ox Palace. The spirit generals of heaven chopped at old Sun with axes, hammered me, cut me with knives, stabbed me with swords, burned me with fire, struck me with thunder — and could not mar a hair. Then the Supreme Lord Lao took me and put me in the Eight Trigrams Furnace, to be smelted in divine fire, and I was smelted into fire eyes and gold pupils, a copper head and iron arms. If you do not believe it, strike a few more times, and see whether it hurts." The monster said, "You monkey, I remember: when you wrecked the Heavenly Palace you lived in the Water Curtain Cave on Mount Flower-Fruit in the country of Aolai, in East Purvavideha. No one has heard of you these many years. How do you come here, to my very door to bully me? Could it be my father-in-law went and hired you?" Pilgrim said, "Your father-in-law did not hire me. Old Sun has turned from wrong back to the right, given up the Dao for the monk's estate, and guards a sworn brother of the throne of Great Tang in the Land of the East, called the priest Tripitaka, on his way to the western heaven to bow to the Buddha and seek the scriptures. Lodging at Gao Village, the old man Gao spoke of his trouble, and asked me to save his daughter and catch you, you chaff-stuffed lout."

At these words the monster dropped the rake, made a deep bow, and said, "Where is this scripture-seeker? Trouble yourself to introduce me." Pilgrim said, "What do you want with him?" The monster said, "The Bodhisattva Guanyin urged me to goodness. I took her vows, and here I have kept a vegetarian table. She told me to follow the scripture-seeker to the western heaven to bow to the Buddha and fetch the scriptures, to turn merit against my sins and win the true fruit. She told me to wait for him, and these years I have heard nothing. Now you have become his disciple. Why did you not speak of the scriptures before, instead of leaning on your fierceness and coming to beat my door in?" Pilgrim said, "Do not try tricks and soft words to slip away. If you truly mean to guard the Tang monk, with no falsehood in it, then swear toward heaven, and I will take you to my master." The monster flopped down on his knees, and knocked his head toward the sky like a pestle in a mortar, crying, "Amitabha Buddha, homage to the Buddha! If I am not true of heart and honest of intent, then may I break heaven's law again and be hacked to ten thousand pieces." Pilgrim, seeing him swear, said, "If it is so, set a fire and burn this dwelling of yours, and then I will take you." The monster truly gathered reeds and thorns, lit a fire, and burned the Cloud Pathway Cave like a broken tile kiln. He said to Pilgrim, "I have nothing tying me now. Lead me away." Pilgrim said, "Give me your rake to carry." The monster handed it over. Pilgrim plucked a hair, blew a breath of immortal air, cried "Change!", and it became a three-strand hemp rope. He came and bound the monster's hands behind his back, and the monster truly folded his arms behind him and let himself be tied as he pleased. Then Pilgrim took him by the ear, hauled him along, and called, "Come along, come along." The monster said, "Gently! Your hand is heavy; you pull my ear-roots sore." Pilgrim said, "No gentling, and no pity for you. As the saying goes: 'The good pig takes an ill catching.' When you have seen my master, and it is proved you mean it, then I will loose you." Half cloud, half mist, the two went straight back to Gao Village. There is a poem to prove it:

Metal, hard and strong, can master wood; the mind-monkey tames the wood dragon home.Metal follows wood, and all is one; wood clings to metal's kindness, and all is spent in work.One host, one guest, with no gap between; three crossings, three unions, with a mystery within.Nature and temper, joined in joy, gather in the primal purity; together they prove the west, and the word does not fail.

In a moment they were at the village. Pilgrim carried the rake and held the monster by the ear: "Look who sits in state in that hall. It is my master." Old Gao and all the Gao kin and friends, seeing Pilgrim bring the monster with hands bound and ear gripped, hurried out gladly into the courtyard, crying, "Elder, elder! This is indeed our son-in-law." The monster stepped forward, knelt on both knees, hands behind his back, knocked his head to Tripitaka, and called out, "Master, your disciple failed to receive you. Had I known my master lodged at my father-in-law's, I should have come out to meet you with bows. How have I come by all these turnings and tangles?" Tripitaka said, "Wukong, how did you subdue him, that he bows to me?" Only then did Pilgrim let go, and rapping him with the rake handle, cried, "Lout, speak!" And the monster told over, point by point, how the bodhisattva had urged him to goodness.

Tripitaka rejoiced greatly and said, "Old Squire Gao, bring an incense table for our use." Old Gao had it carried out at once. Tripitaka washed his hands, burned incense, bowed toward the south, and said, "Deep thanks for the bodhisattva's holy grace." The elders added incense and bowed with him. When the bows were done, Tripitaka took the high seat in the hall and told Wukong to untie the rope. Pilgrim shook himself once, gathered the hair back onto his body, and the bonds fell away of themselves. The monster bowed again to Tripitaka, willing to go west with him; he bowed to Pilgrim too, and since Pilgrim had come first, he called him elder brother. Tripitaka said, "Since you have joined our good work and mean to be a disciple, let me give you a Dharma name, that I may call you morning and night." He said, "Master, the bodhisattva has already laid her hand on my crown and given me the vows, and a Dharma name: Zhu Wuneng." Tripitaka laughed: "Good, good. Your elder brother is called Wukong, and you Wuneng: truly you are of our school's lineage." Wuneng said, "Master, I took the bodhisattva's vows and gave up the five pungent things and the three forbidden meats. At my father-in-law's I have kept a vegetarian table and never touched meat. Now that I have seen you, master, let me end my fast." Tripitaka said, "No, no. Since you eat neither the five pungent things nor the three forbidden meats, let me give you another name as well: Bajie — Eight Prohibitions." The lout was delighted: "I obey my master's order." And so he was also called Zhu Bajie.

Old Gao, seeing him turn from evil back to the right, rejoiced more than ever. He ordered his servants to lay a feast to thank the Tang monk. Bajie came up, pulled Old Gao, and said, "Father, let my humble wife come out and bow to her father-in-law and her uncles. How would that be?" Pilgrim laughed: "Worthy brother, since you have entered the Buddhist gate and become a monk, never again speak of your 'humble wife.' In this world there are Daoists who keep house and marry, but where is there a monk who does? Let us take our seats in order, eat a vegetarian meal, and get early on the road to the western heaven." Old Gao laid the tables, and had Tripitaka take the head; Pilgrim and Bajie sat at his left and right, and the kin sat below. Old Gao opened a jug of vegetarian wine, filled a cup full, poured an offering to heaven and earth, and offered it to Tripitaka. Tripitaka said, "I will not hide it from you, squire: I was a vegetarian in the womb, and have eaten no meat since childhood." Old Gao said, "Knowing your purity, master, I never dared set meat out. This wine too is vegetarian. A cup will do no harm." Tripitaka said, "Nor dare I take wine. Wine is the first rule a monk breaks." Wuneng panicked: "Master, I have kept the fast, but I never gave up wine." Wukong said, "Old Sun's head is small: I cannot drink a jarful or so — but I never gave up wine either." Tripitaka said, "In that case, brothers, a little vegetarian wine may do, only do not drink yourselves drunk and spoil the business." So the two of them took the first cup. All sat down as before, and the vegetarian feast was spread. No words can tell the wealth of cups and plates, the plenty of the dishes.

When master and disciples had feasted, Old Gao brought out on a red lacquer tray two hundred taels of gold and silver in scattered pieces, for the three elders' expenses on the road, and three padded cloth gowns for traveling wear. Tripitaka said, "We are wandering monks: at every farm we beg our rice, in every place we beg our meal. How dare we take gold and silver?" Pilgrim came forward, swept up a handful with his hand, and said, "Gao Cai! Yesterday you had the trouble of leading my master here, and today a disciple has been gained. I have nothing to thank you with. Take these bits of gold and silver for shoe money: buy yourself straw sandals to wear. Hereafter, if you hear of demons, put a few more jobs my way, and there will be more thanks for you." Gao Cai took it, knocked his head, and thanked him. Old Gao said again, "If the masters will not take gold and silver, at least accept these coarse clothes with a smile, as a small token of my heart." Tripitaka said again, "For a man who has left home, if I take one thread of a bribe, a thousand ages of practice are undone. Only let us take some of the cakes and fruit left on the table for dry food on the road, and that is enough."

Bajie put in at the side: "Master, elder brother, if you will not take them, so be it. But I was son-in-law in this house these years: even my boarding dues would come to three piculs. Father-in-law! My gown was torn last night by my elder brother; give me one of blue brocade. My shoes are worn through; give me a good new pair." Old Gao, hearing this, dared not refuse. He bought a new pair of shoes and gave a cloth gown, and Bajie changed out of his old clothes. Then Bajie swayed up, bowed to Old Gao, and said, "Give my word to my mother-in-law, my wife's sisters, the uncles and cousins, and all the kin: today I go to be a monk. I cannot take leave of you face to face; do not blame me. Father-in-law, look after my wife well. Only if we fail to fetch the scriptures, I shall come back and be a layman again, and live with you as your son-in-law as before." Pilgrim shouted, "Lout! Do not talk nonsense." Bajie said, "It is not nonsense. If something goes wrong on the way, the monk's work would be wasted and the wife unbetrothed: both sides left in the lurch, no?"

Tripitaka said, "No more idle talk. Let us be off early." So they packed one load of baggage, and Bajie carried it; the white horse was saddled, and Tripitaka rode; Pilgrim bore the iron rod on his shoulder and led the way. The three of them took leave of Old Gao and all the kin and friends and went west. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

Mist and rosy haze fill the ground, and the trees stand tall; the child of the Buddha from Tang toils sorely on.When hungry, one bowl of rice begged at a thousand doors; in cold, one robe of a thousand stitches patched.The will-horse in the breast must not run loose; the mind-monkey, quick and cross, must not be suffered to howl.When feeling and nature are settled, all conditions join; the moon grows full in golden flower, and the old coat is shed.

The three went on west and had a month of quiet road. Past the border of Wusizang, they looked up suddenly and saw a high mountain. Tripitaka stopped the whip and reined in: "Wukong, Wuneng, the mountain ahead is high. We must take care, take care." Bajie said, "No matter. This is called Pagoda Mountain. In it lives the Chan Master Crow's Nest, who practices here; old Pig once met him." Tripitaka said, "What manner of man is he?" Bajie said, "He has some of the Way about him. He once urged me to follow him in practice; I only never went." As master and disciples talked, they were soon up on the mountain. A fine mountain! Look:

On the mountain's south are green pines and kingfisher junipers; on the north, green willows and red peach. Loud and chattering, the mountain birds talk in pairs; dancing and swaying, the cranes fly together. Sweet and heavy, the flowers show a thousand colors; green and fresh, the wild grasses show ten thousand wonders. In the ravine below, green water rushes; before the cliff, lucky clouds bloom in clusters. Truly a place of scenery most rare and still, where no traveler comes or goes.

The master looked far from the saddle: before a fragrant juniper hung a nest of brush and straw. On the left a deer carried flowers in its mouth; on the right a mountain monkey offered fruit; at the tree's top the azure luan and the painted phoenix sang together, and the dark cranes and the golden pheasants all gathered. Bajie pointed: "Is that not the Chan Master Crow's Nest?" Tripitaka urged his horse and whip straight to the tree.

The master, seeing the three come, left his nest at once and jumped down from the tree. Tripitaka got down and bowed, but the master raised him with his hand: "Holy monk, get up. Forgive my poor welcome, forgive my poor welcome." Bajie said, "Old Chan Master, my courtesy to you." The master asked in wonder, "You are Zhu Gangli of Mount Fuling. What great destiny is yours, to travel with the holy monk?" Bajie said, "Years ago the Bodhisattva Guanyin urged me to goodness, and I promised to follow him as a disciple." The master rejoiced: "Good, good, good!" Then he pointed at Pilgrim and asked, "And who is this?" Pilgrim laughed: "Old Chan, you know him and do not know me?" The master said, "Only that my acquaintance is slight." Tripitaka said, "He is my chief disciple, Sun Wukong." The master said, smiling in apology, "A discourtesy, a discourtesy."

Tripitaka bowed again: "May I ask, where yet is the great Thunderclap Monastery of the west?" The master said, "Far, far. And the road is full of tigers and leopards, hard going." Tripitaka pressed him earnestly, and asked again, "How far is the road, truly?" The master said, "Far as the road is, the day of arrival must come. Only the demons and miasmas are hard to be rid of. I have one scroll of the Sutra of the Many Hearts, fifty-four lines in all, two hundred and seventy characters. Wherever you meet demons and miasmas, say this scripture, and no harm will come to you." Tripitaka bowed to the ground and begged it, and the master recited it aloud and passed it on. The scripture says:

The Heart Sutra of the Perfection of Great Wisdom: The bodhisattva who beholds with freedom, practicing deep the perfection of wisdom, saw in its light that the five heaps are all empty, and passed beyond all suffering and distress. Shariputra, form is no different from emptiness; emptiness is no different from form. Form is just emptiness; emptiness is just form. Feeling, thought, choice, and consciousness are also like this. Shariputra, all things are marked with emptiness: not born, not destroyed; not stained, not clean; not increasing, not lessening. So in emptiness there is no form, and no feeling, thought, choice, or consciousness; no eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, or mind; no color, sound, smell, taste, touch, or object of thought; no field of the eye, down to no field of the mind's consciousness; no ignorance, and no end of ignorance; down to no old age and death, and no end of old age and death. No suffering, no source, no stopping, no path; no wisdom, and no gain. Because there is nothing gained, the bodhisattva rests on the perfection of wisdom, and the heart has no block; because the heart has no block, there is no fear. Far from upside-down, dreamlike thoughts, he reaches at last the other shore of nirvana. The Buddhas of the three ages rest on the perfection of wisdom and win the utmost, right, perfect awakening. Know then that the perfection of wisdom is the great spell, the spell of great light, the spell beyond all, the spell without equal, able to end all suffering: true, not false. So speak the spell of the perfection of wisdom, and speak it thus: "Gate, gate, paragate, parasamgate, bodhi, svaha!"

Now the priest of Tang had roots of his own: he heard the Sutra of the Many Hearts once, and could hold it in memory; it has come down to this day. It is the sum of all the scriptures of true practice, the gate of assembly for becoming a Buddha.

When the master had passed on the scripture, he trod the glowing cloud to go back up to the Crow's Nest. Tripitaka grabbed him once more and begged him, determined to ask the truth of the westward road. The master said, smiling:

The road is not hard to walk. Hear my instructions.A thousand mountains, a thousand waters deep; many the place of miasma and demon.If you meet a cliff that touches the sky, set your heart at rest and do not dread.When you come to the Rock That Rubs the Ear, walk sideways, tracing your steps.Take care in the Wood of Black Pines: demon foxes cut the road in numbers.Sprites fill the cities of the lands; demon lords fill the mountains where they dwell.The tiger sits in the magistrate's hall; the gray wolf keeps the register.Lions and elephants are all called kings; tigers and leopards all ride as outriders.A wild pig carries the baggage; water monsters you will meet ahead.The old stone monkey of many years — there is the one who nurses his anger.Ask that friend of yours: he knows the road that goes west.

Pilgrim heard it and laughed coldly: "On our way we need not ask him. Ask me." Tripitaka did not take the meaning. The master turned into a streak of gold light and went straight up to the Crow's Nest. The elder bowed upward in thanks; Pilgrim's heart flared into fury. He raised the iron rod and smashed upward at random, but lotus flowers sprang up by the ten thousand, and holy mist guarded them layer on layer. For all Pilgrim's power to churn seas and overturn rivers, he could not touch one vine of the Crow's Nest. Tripitaka saw and grabbed him: "Wukong, this is a bodhisattva. Why smash at his nest?" Pilgrim said, "He abused us two brothers, and went." Tripitaka said, "He told us the road to the western heaven. When did he abuse you?" Pilgrim said, "How would you know? His 'wild pig carries the baggage' is an abuse of Bajie; his 'old stone monkey of many years' is an abuse of old Sun. How do you take the sense of it?" Bajie said, "Elder brother, calm your anger. This master knows the past and the future. Look only at his line: 'Water monsters you will meet ahead.' Who knows if it will prove true? Let him be." Pilgrim, seeing the lotus flowers and holy mass thick near the nest, could only ask his master to mount, and they went down the mountain and west. That going:

Meant less of the world's clean ease, and more of the mountain's demons and calamities.

But how it went ahead of them, listen to the next chapter to find out.