Chapter 88

The Chan Comes to Jade Flower and Holds the Assembly of the Law; The Mind-Ape, the Wood-Mother, and the Earth Take Their Disciples

Tripitaka Tang, joyful at heart, took leave of the prefect and said in the saddle to the Pilgrim: "Worthy disciple, this work of goodness truly surpasses the saving of the children in the Bhiksu Kingdom—it is all your doing." Sha Monk said: "In the Bhiksu Kingdom they saved but eleven hundred and eleven little children; how could that match this great rain, pouring and soaking, that has quickened thousands upon thousands of lives? Even I in the dark commend the power of eldest brother, reaching to heaven, and his mercy covering the earth." Bajie laughed: "Brother's grace there is, and goodness too; only the mercy is worn outside, and mischief carried in the breast: whenever he goes with old Pig, he must trample on somebody." The Pilgrim said: "Where have I trampled on you?" Bajie said: "Enough, enough! Always minding the tying for me, the hanging for me, the boiling for me, the steaming for me. Now in Phoenix Fairy you have shown grace to thousands upon thousands; you should have stayed half a year, and brought me along to eat a few free bellyfuls—but no, hurry on the road." The elder heard and shouted: "This Idiot thinks of nothing but filling his snout. On the road quickly, and no more squabbling." Bajie dared not answer, cupped his snout, shouldered the bags, cracked his jokes, and master and disciples made for the great road. Time now ran like a shuttle, and deep autumn was come. Behold:

The water marks sink low, and the mountain bones grow lean. Red leaves fly scattering; it is the hour of yellow flowers. In frosty clear weather the nights seem long; the white moon shines through the window. Every house its cook fires in the sunset's plenty; everywhere the lake light slips along the cold water. White duckweed fragrant; red smartweed lush. Oranges green, tangerines yellow; willows sere, grain in ear. In the wild village geese settle, breaking the reed flowers; at the lone inn cockcrow sounds over the gathering of beans.

The four traveled a long while, and again saw city walls faint in the distance. The elder raised his whip and pointed afar: "Wukong, there is another city there—but what place is it?" The Pilgrim said: "Neither of us has been there—how should I know? Let us come to the gate and ask." Before the words were done, out of a clump of trees came an old man, bamboo staff in hand, lightly clad, a pair of palm-fiber shoes on his feet, a flat sash at his waist. Tripitaka Tang, startled, rolled from the saddle, came up, and made a salutation. The old man, leaning on his staff, returned the courtesy: "Elder, from what quarter do you come?" Tripitaka Tang, palms together, said: "Your poor monk is sent by Tang of the eastern lands to the Thunderclap to worship Buddha and seek scriptures. Come now to your precious land, and seeing the walls afar and not knowing what place it is, I ask your teaching, worthy giver." The old man heard, and said: "Chan master of the Way, this poor place of ours is an outlying county of the land of India, named Jade Flower County. The lord of the city in the county is of the imperial clan of the Indian emperor, enfeoffed as Prince of Jade Flower. The prince is most worthy: he honors monks and priests especially, and loves and prizes the common people. If you go to see him, venerable master, he will receive you with heavy honor." Tripitaka thanked him, and the old man went straight off through the trees.

Tripitaka turned and told his disciples the whole matter. The three rejoiced, and helped the master to horse. Tripitaka said: "It is no great way; no need to ride." The four walked to the streets by the city edge to look: the households of the outer town, buying and selling, crowds gathered, trade brisk. In voice and face they were no different from the Middle Land. Tripitaka charged them: "Disciples, be careful; do nothing unseemly." Bajie kept his head down, Sha Monk muffled his face; only Sun the Pilgrim helped the master along. The people on both sides crowded to look, crying with one voice: "Here we have monks who tame dragons and tigers, but never monks who tame pigs and apes." Bajie could not forbear: he cupped his snout and said: "Have you ever seen a monk who tames the king of pigs?" The people in all the street tumbled and staggered, drawing aside on both sides. The Pilgrim laughed: "Idiot, hide that snout quickly, and no playing the mountebank; mind your feet on the bridge." The Idiot kept his head down and only laughed. Over the drawbridge and in the city gate they saw again the great street, wine towers and singing houses, bustling and splendid—truly a capital of the divine land. There is a poem to prove it; the poem says:

A city of brocade in an iron urn, firm for ten thousand years; by water and hill, every feature fresh.A hundred goods come by the lake in boats to market; a thousand houses hang their curtains over wine shops.Towers and terraces everywhere, and the peoples thick; lanes and alleys, morning after morning, loud with merchants and guests.Not second to Chang'an's fine prospect: cockcrow and dog bark alike are there.

Tripitaka rejoiced in the dark: "Men talk of the kingdoms of the western tribes—but we never came here. Look close at the scene: how does it differ from our Great Tang? What they call the world of bliss—truly it is this." He heard men say white rice was four mace the shi, sesame oil eight li the catty—a land indeed of the five grains in plenty.

After a long while they came to the palace of the Prince of Jade Flower. By the palace gate, on this side and that, were the office of the chief steward, the hall of judgment, the bureau of provisions, and the lodging house for guests. Tripitaka said: "Disciples, this is the palace; let me go in to see the prince, have the rescript verified, and go on." Bajie said: "When the master goes in, may we stand before the gate?" Tripitaka said: "Do you not read the three characters on this gate—'Lodging House for Guests'? Go sit you all there; see if there is fodder, and buy some to feed the horse. When I have seen the prince, if he grants a meal, I will come call you to share it." The Pilgrim said: "Master, go without fear; your old Sun will manage." Sha Monk carried the luggage into the lodging house. There were keepers in it, who saw their ugly faces, dared not question them, dared not send them out, and could only let them sit—no more of that.

The old master changed his clothes and cap, took the rescript, and came straight to the palace. The master of rites met him and asked: "Elder, from where do you come?" Tripitaka said: "A monk sent by Great Tang of the eastern lands to the Great Thunderclap to worship Buddha and seek scriptures; come now to your land, wishing to have the rescript countersigned, and specially come to pay respects to His Highness." The master of rites went in and announced him. The prince was indeed worthy and openhanded, and at once decreed that he be summoned in. Tripitaka saluted below the hall, and the prince asked him up and gave him a seat. Tripitaka presented the rescript; the prince read it, saw the seals and hand-signs of the several countries, and gladly stamped his precious seal, signed the flowery characters, folded it, and laid it on the table. He asked: "Elder Preceptor, from your Great Tang to here, through all the kingdoms—how many li of road in all?" Tripitaka said: "Your poor monk kept no account of the road; but long ago the Bodhisattva Guanyin appeared before my sovereign and left a gatha, saying the west is a hundred and eight thousand li. On the road I have passed fourteen winters and summers." The prince laughed: "Fourteen winters and summers—fourteen years. Some hindrance on the way, I suppose?" Tripitaka said: "Hard to tell in a word. Ten thousand plagues and a thousand demons, sufferings past counting, before we came to your precious land." The prince was delighted, and bade the steward of provisions prepare a plain meal for him. Tripitaka said: "I report to Your Highness: your poor monk has three young disciples waiting outside, and dare not take the meal alone, fearing to delay the journey." The prince bade the palace officer: "Go quickly and invite the elder's three disciples in to share the meal."

The palace officer went out to invite them, asking all: "Not seen them, not seen them." One of the followers said: "Three ugly monks sit in the lodging house; no doubt those are they." The palace officer came with the crowd to the house, and asked the keepers: "Which are the high disciples of the scripture-seeking monk of Tang? My prince has decreed, come eat the meal." Bajie was sitting nodding; at the one word "meal" he could not forbear but sprang up and answered: "We are they, we are they." The palace officer, at one look, felt his soul fly and spirit die, and said trembling: "A pig goblin, a pig goblin." The Pilgrim heard, caught Bajie's arm: "Brother, be civil; no rustic behavior." The officers, seeing the Pilgrim, said again: "An ape spirit, an ape spirit." Sha Monk raised his hands: "Gentlemen, be not afraid: we three are all disciples of Tripitaka Tang." The officers looked, and said: "The Kitchen God, the Kitchen God." Sun the Pilgrim bade Bajie lead the horse and Sha Monk carry the load, and they went with the crowd into the palace of the Prince of Jade Flower, the palace officer going ahead to announce.

The prince looked up, saw such ugliness, and his heart too was afraid. Tripitaka, palms together, said: "Your Highness, be at ease. Though my wild disciples are ugly of face, they are good of heart." Bajie bowed from below and said: "Your poor monk salutes you." The prince's fear grew. Tripitaka said: "My wild disciples were all gathered in the wild hills and know not how to salute; I beg you pardon them." The prince, swallowing his fright, bade the steward take the monks to the Sunned-Silk Pavilion to eat. Tripitaka thanked him for the grace, took leave of the prince, came down from the hall, and going with them into the pavilion, upbraided Bajie: "You lout, you have not one grain of manners. To have said nothing at all were well enough—but so churlish? One word, and you quite overturned Mount Tai." The Pilgrim laughed: "It was best I did not bow—I saved my strength." Sha Monk said: "And he would not bow in time: he must thrust out his snout and bawl beforehand." Bajie said: "Vexation, pure vexation! The day before yesterday the master taught me to salute when meeting people—it is manners; today I salute, and it is wrong: what am I to do?" Tripitaka said: "I taught you to salute when you meet people, not to twist and wrangle the moment you see a prince. The old saying goes: 'Things have their grades, and men have theirs.' How can you not tell high from low?" As they spoke, the steward and his men cleared the tables and chairs, and laid the meal. Master and disciples said nothing, and each ate.

The prince withdrew from the hall into the palace, where three young princes, seeing his face changed, asked: "Father Prince, why this fright today?" The prince said: "Just now a monk sent from Great Tang of the eastern lands to worship Buddha and seek scriptures came to countersign his rescript, and of imposing presence. I kept him to eat; he said he had disciples before the palace, and I bade them invited. When they came in, they did not make the great obeisance, only saluted, and I was already displeased; and when I raised my eyes, every one uglier than a fiend, my heart quaked in spite of me, and so my face changed." Now these three young princes were unlike the common run: every one a lover of arms and strength; they bared their fists and rolled their sleeves: "Can they be fiends from the hills playing at men? Let us take weapons and go see."

Good princes: the eldest took a staff as tall as the brow; the second whirled a nine-toothed rake; the third swung a black-oil staff; martial and high-mettled they marched out of the palace, bawling: "Where are these scripture-seeking monks?" The steward and the officers knelt: "Little princes, they eat their meal in the Sunned-Silk Pavilion there." The young princes, asking nothing, burst in and shouted: "Are you men or monsters? Speak quickly, and we spare your lives." Tripitaka's face went white; he dropped his bowl, bent low, and said: "Your poor monk is of Tang, come for scriptures—a man, not a monster." The young prince said: "You may pass for a man; those three ugly ones are certainly monsters." Bajie went on eating and paid no heed. Sha Monk and the Pilgrim bowed slightly: "We are all men: ugly of face but good of heart, clumsy of body but kind of nature. And from where come you three, so big-mouthed and wild?" The steward by said: "These three are our prince's sons, the little highnesses." Bajie dropped his bowl: "Little highnesses—why the weapons in hand? Do you mean to fight us?"

The second prince opened his stance, whirled the rake in both hands, and would fall on Bajie. Bajie laughed: "That rake of yours would do well for a grandson to this rake of mine." He lifted his robe, drew the rake from his waist, flourished it—ten thousand rays of gold; flung it through its figures—a thousand wreaths of auspicious vapor. The prince's hands went weak and his sinews slack, and he dared not touch it. The Pilgrim, seeing the eldest with his brow-high staff, hopping and skipping, drew the gold-banded staff from his ear, flourished it to the thickness of a bowl, a good twelve or thirteen feet long, rammed it into the ground, three feet deep, and left it standing. He laughed: "I make you a present of this staff." The prince heard, dropped his own staff, went to take the one, pulled with all his strength with both hands—not a hair's-breadth would it stir; he tried again to heave it, shook it—it was as if rooted. The third let fly his savage temper and came on with the black-oil staff; Sha Monk split it aside with one hand, drew the precious demon-subduing staff, twirled it—radiance flashing, rosy light scattering. The steward and officers stood gaping and stammering, their tongues failed them. The three young princes knelt down together: "Divine masters, divine masters! We poor mortals did not know you; we beg you to display your arts once, that we may bow and receive them." The Pilgrim came near, took the staff up lightly, and said: "It is close quarters here, no room to stretch. Let me leap into the air and run one figure, for you to see."

The Great Sage whistled, shook the somersault, trod the five-colored propitious clouds with both feet, rose into mid-air, some three hundred paces from the ground, and flung the staff through its figures—the Scattered-Flowers Canopy, the Yellow Dragon Turning Its Body; up and down, wheeling left and right: at first man and staff were brocade strewn with flowers; presently the man was not to be seen, only a skyful of rolling staff. Bajie below cheered, and could not hold his hands and feet either, but bawled: "Wait while old Pig goes and plays his figure too." Good Idiot: he mounted the wind's crest, rose to mid-air, flung the rake about—three up and four down, five left and six right, seven before and eight behind, all the figures of his body, and only the whish of wind heard. At the height of it Sha Monk said to the elder: "Master, let old Sha go drill too." Good monk: with both feet he sprang, whirled the staff, rose into the air too; fierce air wreathing, golden light shimmering. With both hands he flung the demon-subduing staff through its figures—the Red Phoenix Faces the Sun, the Hung Tiger Springs on Its Prey; tight in and slow out, quick wheel and busy thrust. The three brothers displayed their powers to the full, in mid-air together, all showing their might and glory. And this was truly:

The true Chan's aspect is not as other men's; the cause of the great Way fills the void.Metal and wood put forth their might and fill the realm of the law; the elixir's measures turn and close in perfect accord.Divine weapons, keen and bright, show as the time requires; the cinnabar vessels flower, revered in every place.India is high indeed, yet holds to the precepts and the nature; the princes of Jade Flower return, all of them, to the mean.

The three young princes were frightened to their knees in the dust. The household of the Sunned-Silk Pavilion, great and small, the old prince in his palace, the soldiers and people of the whole city, men and women, monks and nuns, priests and laymen, every one: house by house invoking Buddha and knocking the head, door by door holding incense and worshiping. Truly it was:

Seeing the likeness, they turn to the truth, and the monks are ferried over; in the world of men, good works earn a clear peace.From now the fruit is ripened on the Bodhi road: all of them are men who meditate and worship Buddha.

The three, each having shown his prowess and run his figure, pressed down the propitious clouds and put up their weapons. Before Tripitaka Tang they saluted, thanked their master's grace, and each sat down—no more of that.

The three young princes hastened back to the palace and reported to the old prince: "Father Prince, ten thousand joys—a work of the greatest size. Did you just now see the play in mid-air?" The old prince said: "I saw the rosy light in mid-air just now, and in the palace court with your mother and the rest I burned incense and bowed—knowing not what immortals were come down among us." The young princes said: "No immortals from anywhere: it is the three ugly disciples of the scripture-seeking monks. One swings the gold-banded iron staff, one the nine-toothed rake, one the demon-subduing staff, and our three weapons beside them are not worth a hair. We asked them to run a figure, and they said: 'The ground is close, no room to manage; let us go up into the air and run one for you.' They mounted the clouds each on his own, propitious clouds faint and far, auspicious vapors wreathing, and just now came down and sat in the Sunned-Silk Pavilion. Your children are delighted, and would take them for masters, learn their arts, and guard our state—a work indeed of the greatest size. We know not how it seems to you, Father Prince." The old prince heard, and with faith followed their wish.

Then father and four sons, without equipage or canopy, walked to the Sunned-Silk Pavilion. The four were packing the luggage, meaning to go into the palace to thank for the meal and take leave of the prince and go on, when they saw the Prince of Jade Flower and his sons come up the pavilion and fling themselves down in worship. The elder, startled, straightened and bowed to the ground in answer; the Pilgrim and the others slipped aside, smiling coldly a little. The bows done, they begged the four into the palace hall to sit. The four came in gladly. The old prince rose: "Master Tang, I have one matter to beg: will your three high disciples consent?" Tripitaka said: "Command as you please, Your Highness; my young disciples dare not refuse." The old prince said: "When I first saw you, I took you for foot-faring monks come from Tang afar; my mortal eyes, mortal flesh, and I did you many an indignity. Just now I saw Master Sun, Master Zhu, and Master Sha dancing in the air, and knew you for immortals, for buddhas. My three poor sons have loved the arts of war all their lives; now with devout hearts they would take you for masters and learn some of the art. I beg you, teachers, open a heaven-and-earth heart, and move the boat of mercy universally; teach and ordain my little ones, and I will thank you with the wealth of a city." The Pilgrim heard, and could not forbear laughing aloud: "Your Highness, you manage matters ill. We that have left home are only too glad to take a few disciples. Since your sons have the heart to follow goodness, say not one word of profit or fee: only meet us with affection, and that is love enough."

The prince heard, and was overjoyed. He bade a great banquet be laid at once, set out in the main hall of his own palace. Ah! At one word of decree it was all done in a moment. Behold:

Colored silks flutter; incense smoke breathes rich. Gilt-lacquer tables hung in gauze—dazzling the eye; painted chairs spread with brocade—adding grace to the seats. Fruits from the trees fresh; the tea fragrant and steaming. Three or five dishes of dainties, clear and sweet; a course or two of steamed bread, ample and neat. Steamed pastries and honeyed fritters—a marvel; fried cakes sugar-floated—beauty indeed. Some bottles of fragrant glutinous plain wine: pour it out, and it vies with jasper nectar; some rounds of Yangxian immortal tea: held in the hand, its scent beats the cassia. Every kind and every thing complete; every sort and every line a marvel.

On one side they called the entertainers to sing and dance, pipe and strum, juggle and play. The master and disciples and the prince and his sons made a whole day of joy.

Night came before they knew it, and the feast broke up. They bade beds and curtains be set in the Sunned-Silk Pavilion, and begged the masters to rest, that at dawn, with sincere incense, they might bow again and beg the teaching of the arts. All obeyed; fragrant water was prepared, the masters were asked to bathe, and the rest went to their rooms. And now it was that:

The birds are roosted high, and every sound is sunk; the poet, at his couch, has done his droning.The River of Stars shines out, and the sky grows brighter; the wild paths are bare, and the grass grows deeper.The fulling blocks knock and toll in the neighboring court; passes and hills, far and dim, stir the homesick heart.The cold cricket's note is clear, and knows a man's mind; chirp on chirp by the bed's head breaks the dreamer's sleep.

The night's scene is passed over. At dawn the old prince and his sons came again to see them. The elder, who yesterday had used the courtesies of a subject, today performed the courtesies of a master. The three young princes knocked their heads before the Pilgrim, Bajie, and Sha Monk, and asked: "Your honored teachers' weapons—lend them out for us disciples to look at." Bajie heard, and gladly drew out the rake and threw it on the ground. Sha Monk flung out the precious staff and leaned it by the wall. The second prince and the third jumped up to take them—like dragonflies butting a stone pillar; each pulled till red in the face, and could not move them a hair. The eldest prince, seeing, called: "Brothers, waste no strength. The masters' weapons are all divine arms—who knows how many catties they weigh?" Bajie laughed: "My rake is not heavy: only a full canon's count, five thousand and forty-eight catties with the handle." The third prince asked Sha Monk: "Master, how heavy is your precious staff?" Sha Monk laughed: "Also five thousand and forty-eight catties." The eldest prince begged to see the Pilgrim's gold-banded staff. The Pilgrim drew a needle from his ear, flourished it against the wind to the thickness of a bowl, and stood it straight before them. The prince and his sons were awed; every official's heart quaked. The three young princes worshiped: "Master Zhu's and Master Sha's arms are carried on their bodies under their clothes, and can be taken out. Why does Master Sun draw his from his ear, and grow it at a breath of wind?" The Pilgrim laughed: "You do not know: this staff of mine is no common iron of the mortal world. This staff:

When chaos first divided, the smelted iron was cast;the god Yu the Great set it with his own hands.The lakes and seas and rivers, their shallows and depths—this staff has known them to the quick.When mountains were opened and waters governed, in the years of peace,it drifted to the eastern ocean to guard the sea gate.Days lengthened, years deepened, and it throws off rosy clouds;it can shrink and grow, and shine clean and bright.Your old Sun, by lot, came to fetch it;its changes are without number, at the word of the mouth.Would it great? It fills the universe;would it small? No more than a needle's joint.The staff is named As-You-Will and titled Gold-Banded:in heaven and among men it is called unique.It weighs a full thirteen thousand five hundred catties,and thickens or thins at its own begetting.It helped me wreck the Heavenly Palace;it followed me to storm the gates of the dark land.Taming tigers, subduing dragons, it passes everywhere;refining demons, clearing monsters, it works through every quarter.Lift the head, point once, and the sun goes dim;heaven, earth, ghosts, and gods all quake.From chaos the immortal handed it down to this day:it was never common iron of the mortal world.

The princes heard, and bowed their heads without end. The three came forward and bowed upon bows, begging with devout hearts to be taught. The Pilgrim said: "Which of the arts would you three learn?" The princes said: "Let him who would swing the staff learn the staff; him used to the rake, the rake; him who loves the rod, the rod." The Pilgrim laughed: "Teaching is easy; only you have not the strength to swing our weapons; and learning half-learned is like painting a tiger and producing a dog. The ancients say: 'Lax teaching is the teacher's sloth; learning without fruit is the pupil's fault.' Since you have true hearts, go bring incense and worship heaven and earth, and I will first give you some divine strength; then the arts can be taught."

The three young princes heard, and their hearts danced. They carried up the incense table with their own hands, washed their hands and burned incense, and bowed toward heaven. The bows done, they begged the masters to teach. The Pilgrim turned and bowed to Tripitaka Tang: "I inform my honored master, and beg pardon for your disciple's fault. Since the year you saved your disciple by your great grace at the Two-Boundary Mountains, and took me into the gate of Law, I have come west ever since; though I have not repaid your grace in full, yet I have crossed waters and climbed mountains, spending heart and strength to the last. Now, in the land of Buddha, we happily meet three sons of a worthy prince, who ask to bow to us and learn the arts of war. Being our disciples, they are our master's grand-disciples. I have reported it to my master, that the teaching may begin." Tripitaka was overjoyed. Bajie and Sha Monk, seeing the Pilgrim bow, turned likewise and knocked their heads to Tripitaka: "Master, we are dull and tongue-tied, no hands at talk. We beg you to sit high in the seat of the law, and let us two also each take a pupil for the fun of it—a keepsake of the road west." Tripitaka gladly allowed them all.

The Pilgrim then had the three princes go behind the Sunned-Silk Pavilion into a still room, and drew the Dipper's array on the floor. He had the three kneel prostrate within it, each with eyes shut and spirit stilled; and there in the dark he pronounced the true word, recited the charm, blew immortal air into their breasts, gathered their primal spirits home to their own houses, taught them the word of the mouth, and gave each ten-thousandfold of sinew strength, feeding the fire of the art—a very sloughing of the body and changing of the bone. When the circuit of the hours had run its round, the three young princes woke, scrambled up together, rubbed their faces, mettlesome and bright, each bone-stout and sinew-strong: the eldest prince could now swing the gold-banded staff, the second could whirl the nine-toothed rake, the third could lift the demon-subduing staff.

The old prince saw, and joyed past bearing. He laid another plain feast to thank the master and his four. There before the banquet each taught his own: the learner of the staff drilled the staff, the learner of the rake the rake, the learner of the rod the rod. Though they turned a few turns and threw a few figures, these were mortals still, and it cost them: one run of figures, and they panted and blew, with no long wind in them. For those weapons all have their changes: advancing, retreating, attacking, raising, waxing and waning at will, with a natural grace—these are but mortals; how should they reach it at a bound? That day the feast was cleared.

Next day the three young princes came again to give thanks: "We are grateful that the divine masters have given us strength, so that we can swing your weapons; but the changing is hard for us. We would have smiths make others after the pattern of the divine masters' weapons, with the weight reduced; we know not if the masters will allow it." Bajie said: "Good, good, good, and well said. Our arms, first, you cannot manage; second, we need them to guard the law and subdue demons—make others indeed." The prince summoned smiths at once, bought ten thousand catties of steel and iron, pitched a shed in the forecourt of the palace, set furnaces, and cast. The first day they refined the metal; the next day the three were asked to take out the gold-banded staff, the nine-toothed rake, and the demon-subduing staff, and set them in the shed for patterns; and so, day and night, the work went on.

Ah! These weapons were the very treasures the three carried on their bodies, not to be left an instant, each hidden on his person, with many glories warding them. Now, lying in the shed some days, their rosy light shot up ten thousand rays into the sky, their auspicious vapors sank in a thousand kinds over the earth. That night there was a demon some seventy li from the city: the mountain called Leopard-Head Mountain, the cave called Tiger's-Mouth Cave. Sitting in the night, he saw the rosy light and auspicious vapors, mounted the cloud to look, and saw the radiance rising from within the prince's palace. He pressed down his cloud, came near, and looked: it was these three weapons shining. The demon rejoiced and loved them: "Fine treasures, fine treasures! What man's are they, laid here? It is my fate and fortune too—carry them off, carry them off." At the stirring of his love he raised his prowess, swept up the three weapons all together, and turned straight home to his cave. And truly it was:

The Way leaves not for an instant;what can leave it is not the Way.The divine arms all drop into emptiness—vain the labor of the cultivators.

How they would find the weapons again, who could say? Listen to the next chapter to find out.

The Chan Comes to Yuhua and Holds the Assembly of Powers; The Mind-Ape, Wood-Mother, and Earth Take On Disciples

The story tells how the Tang monk, in high spirits, took leave of the prefect and said to Pilgrim from the saddle: "Worthy disciple, this work of goodness truly outdoes the saving of the children in the Kingdom of Bhiksu — and it was all your doing." Sha Monk said: "In the Kingdom of Bhiksu only one thousand one hundred and eleven little children were saved. How does that compare with this great rain, soaking and drenching, giving life to thousands upon tens of thousands? Even I said to myself that big brother's power reaches heaven and his mercy covers the earth." Bajie laughed: "Brother has mercy, and goodness too — but only hands out kindness on the outside while hiding trouble in his heart. Whenever he travels with old Pig, someone gets abused." Pilgrim said: "Where have I abused you?" Bajie said: "Enough, enough! Always having me tied up, having me strung up, having me boiled, having me steamed. Today you showered favors on tens of thousands in Fengxian — you should have stayed half a year, taking me along to a few free, filling meals. But no — all you do is rush us down the road." Hearing this, the elder snapped: "You Idiot — always thinking of your belly! Walk faster, and no more bickering." Bajie dared not answer. He patted his snout, shouldered the load, laughed it off, and master and disciples made for the high road. Time flew like a shuttle, and deep autumn came round. And this is what they saw:

The watermarks sink; the mountain bones grow lean.Red leaves flutter down; it is the season of the yellow flowers.Under clear frost the nights feel long; the white moonlight cuts through the window.Every house has its cookfires against the many sunsets; every lake shines where the cold water slips.The white duckweed smells sweet; the red knotweed grows thick.Oranges green, oranges gold; willows dying, grain ears full.In the wasted village geese settle and shatter the reed flowers; at the lonely inn cocks crow over the gathering of beans.

The four walked a long while and saw the shadowy line of city walls. The elder raised his whip and pointed into the distance, calling: "Wukong, look — another walled city there. What place can it be?" Pilgrim said: "You and I have never been here — how should we know? Let's walk up to the edge and ask someone." Before the words were done, an old man came out of the thicket, a bamboo staff in his hand, light clothes on his body, a pair of palm-fiber sandals on his feet, a flat sash at his waist. The Tang monk rolled out of the saddle in haste, came up, and made a salutation. The old man leaned on his staff and returned the courtesy: "Elder, from what quarter do you come?" The Tang monk pressed his palms together: "This humble monk was sent from Tang in the Land of the East to Thunderclap to worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures. Coming to your honored region and seeing the city walls from afar, we did not know what place this is, and came specially to ask the old donor's instruction." The old man said: "Master of the Way, my humble place is an outlying prefecture of the land of India, named Yuhua County. The lord of the city here is of the imperial clan of the Indian emperor, enfeoffed as the Prince of Yuhua. This prince is very worthy: he honors monks and priests especially, and loves his common people. If you go to see him, venerable master, you will surely be received with great respect." The Tang monk thanked him, and the old man went straight off through the trees.

Tripitaka turned and told his disciples the whole matter. The three were delighted and helped the master into the saddle. Tripitaka said: "It's not far; no need to ride." So the four walked to the edge of the city to look along the streets. The households outside the gate, buying and selling, were thick with people, and trade was flourishing. Their voices and faces, one saw, differed not at all from China's. Tripitaka warned: "Disciples, be careful — no showing off." Bajie kept his head down; Sha Monk covered his face; only Sun the Pilgrim supported the master. The people on both sides crowded to look and cried out together: "Here we have high monks who tame dragons and tigers — but never a monk who tames pigs and monkeys!" Bajie could not hold in. He cupped his snout and said: "Have you ever seen a monk who tames the Pig King?" The people all down the street stumbled and scrambled and pushed aside to both edges. Pilgrim laughed: "Idiot, hide that snout, no strutting — and mind your feet on the bridge." The Idiot kept his head down and only grinned. They crossed the drawbridge and entered the gate, and saw along the great street wine towers and singing houses, bustling and splendid — truly a capital city of the divine land. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

The brocade city, iron-jar strong, stands firm ten thousand years; by water and hill every hue is bright.Boats from the lake bring a hundred goods to market; a thousand houses pour wine behind hanging curtains.Terraces and towers everywhere, the people spread wide; in lanes and streets, morning after morning, travelers and merchants clamor.Nothing behind Chang'an's fine scenery — the cock's crow and the dog's bark are all here too.

The Tang monk rejoiced in his heart: "Men speak of the western lands and their tribes, but I never thought to see this. Looking closely at the scene — how does it differ from our Great Tang? What they call the Land of Bliss — this must truly be it." He also heard people say that white rice was four mace a shi and sesame oil eight li a catty — truly a place where the five grains heaped up.

After a long walk they reached the palace of the Prince of Yuhua. To left and right of the palace gate were the Chief Steward's office, the Hall of Judgments, the Bureau of Provisions, and the Guest Lodge. The Tang monk said: "Disciples, this is the palace. Wait while I go in and pay court to the prince, have our papers checked, and move on." Bajie said: "If the master goes in, might we wait standing before the yamen gate?" The Tang monk said: "Don't you see the three characters over that door — 'Guest Lodge'? You all go sit there, and if there is hay and feed, buy some for the horse. When I have seen the prince, if he grants us a meal, I'll come call you to share it." Pilgrim said: "Go with an easy heart, Master. Old Sun will see to things." Sha Monk carried the luggage into the lodge. The lodge keepers, seeing their ugly faces, dared not question them or send them out, and could only let them sit. Of that no more.

Now the old master changed his clothes and cap, took the travel papers, and went straight to the palace gate. The Master of Ceremonies met him and asked: "Elder, from where do you come?" The Tang monk said: "A monk sent from Great Tang in the Land of the East to the Thunderclap to worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures. Now that I have reached your land, I wish to have my papers stamped, and come specially to pay my respects to His Highness." The Master of Ceremonies took the word in, and the prince — worthy indeed — sent his command at once to admit him. The Tang monk bowed below the hall, and the prince invited him up and gave him a seat. The Tang monk presented the travel papers. The prince looked them over, saw the seals and handwritten marks of the various kingdoms, and gladly stamped his own precious seal and signed his flourish, folding them away on the table. He asked: "Master and Teacher of the Nation, from your Great Tang to here, through all these kingdoms — how far have you come?" The Tang monk said: "This humble monk did not keep count of the road. But years ago the Bodhisattva Guanyin showed herself before my sovereign's throne and left a verse, saying it is a hundred and eight thousand li to the west. On the road I have already passed fourteen rounds of winter and summer." The prince laughed: "Fourteen rounds of winter and summer — fourteen years. I suppose there were delays on the road?" The Tang monk said: "It cannot be told in one word. Ten thousand ordeals, a thousand demons — who knows how many miseries — before I reached your honored land." The prince was delighted through and through and ordered the Provisioning Officer to prepare a vegetarian meal. The Tang monk said: "Your Highness: this humble monk has three young disciples waiting outside. I dare not take the meal alone, fearing to hold up the journey." The prince ordered: "Officer of the hall, go quickly and invite the elder's three disciples in to share the meal."

The officer went out to invite them, and all said: "We haven't seen them, we haven't seen them." Someone of the retinue said: "Three ugly monks are sitting in the Guest Lodge — those must be the ones." The officer came with them to the lodge and asked the keepers: "Which are the high disciples of the scripture monk of Tang? My lord has sent his command to invite them to the meal." Bajie was just then sitting nodding off, but at the word "meal" he could not contain himself and jumped up: "We're the ones, we're the ones!" The officer, at the sight of him, felt his soul fly from his body, and said all of a tremble: "A pig goblin, a pig goblin!" Pilgrim, hearing this, grabbed Bajie: "Brother, be a little refined — none of your clowning." The officials, seeing Pilgrim, said: "A monkey spirit, a monkey spirit!" Sha Monk folded his hands: "Gentlemen, don't be alarmed. The three of us are all disciples of the Tang monk." The officials looked and said: "The Kitchen God, the Kitchen God!" Sun the Pilgrim then had Bajie lead the horse and Sha Monk carry the load, and with the crowd entered the palace of the Prince of Yuhua. The hall officer went ahead to announce them.

The prince raised his eyes, saw how ugly they were, and his heart misgave him. The Tang monk pressed his palms together: "Your Highness, rest easy. Though my stubborn disciples are ugly of face, they are all good of heart." Bajie made a bow upward and said: "This humble monk salutes you." The prince's fright only grew. The Tang monk said: "My stubborn disciples were all taken in from the hills and wilds and know nothing of manners. I beg you to pardon them." The prince, for all his fright, had the Provisioning Officer take the monks to the Exposed-Gauze Pavilion for their meal. The Tang monk thanked him for the grace, took leave of the prince, came down from the hall, and in the pavilion scolded Bajie: "You lout, you have not one grain of manners. If you'd simply kept your mouth shut, all would have been well — why so coarse? One word of yours was enough to knock Mount Tai flat." Pilgrim laughed: "Better that I keep from bowing — it saves effort." Sha Monk said: "And he never waits for the rest — his snout is out hollering before anyone's ready." Bajie said: "What a bother, what a bother! Master, the other day you taught me that a salutation to people is good manners. Today I make my salutation and it's wrong again — what do you want of me?" The Tang monk said: "I taught you to salute when you meet people, not to sprawl and pester when you meet a prince. As the common saying goes: 'Things come in ranks, and so do people.' How can you not tell the high from the low?" While he spoke, the Provisioning Officer and his men set out tables and chairs and laid on the meal. Master and disciples said nothing further, and each ate.

Now the prince left the hall and returned to his palace, where his three young sons saw his face had changed and asked: "Father, why are you so frightened today?" The prince said: "Just now a monk sent from Great Tang in the Land of the East to worship the Buddha and fetch the scriptures came to have his papers stamped — and he had no ordinary presence. I kept him for a meal; he said his disciples were before the palace, and I ordered them invited. When they came in a little later and made only a small bow instead of full obeisance, I was already displeased. And when I looked up, they were ugly as demons, every one, and my heart quaked — that is why my face changed." Now those three young princes were not like other men: each loved arms and strength. They bared their fists and rolled up their sleeves: "Can they be demons come out of the hills disguised as men? Let us take up weapons and go see."

Those fine princes! The eldest took an eyebrow-high staff, the second swung a nine-toothed rake, the third wielded a black-oiled staff, and with martial swagger and high spirits they strode out of the palace, shouting: "Where are these scripture-seeking monks?" The Provisioning Officer and his men knelt: "Young Princes, they are eating their meal in the Exposed-Gauze Pavilion." The young princes, making no distinctions, burst in and shouted: "Are you men or monsters? Say quickly, and I'll spare your lives." The Tang monk, alarmed, his face draining, set down his bowl and bowed: "This humble monk has come from Tang to seek scriptures — a man, not a monster." The young prince said: "You may pass for a man, but those three ugly ones are certainly monsters." Bajie went on eating and paid no mind. Sha Monk and Pilgrim bowed slightly and said: "We are all men. Ugly of face but good of heart; clumsy of body but good of nature. And where do you three come from, with such big talk and swagger?" Beside them the Provisioning Officer and the rest said: "These three are sons of our prince — the young Highnesses." Bajie set down his bowl: "Young Highnesses — what's with the weapons? You don't mean to fight us?"

The second prince stepped out, whirled his rake in both hands, and made to strike Bajie. Bajie giggled: "That rake of yours would do well as grandson to this rake of mine." He threw open his clothes, drew the rake from his waist, waved it once — ten thousand rays of gold. He sent it through its figures, and a thousand streams of lucky vapor shone. The prince's hands went soft and his sinews numb, and he dared not swing again. Pilgrim, seeing the eldest jumping about with his eyebrow-high staff, drew the gold-banded staff from his ear, waved it once — thick as a bowl, a zhang and two or three feet long — rammed it into the ground some three feet deep, and left it standing there. He laughed: "I'll give you this staff, shall I?" At that the prince dropped his own staff and went to take the iron one, pulled with both hands and all his might — it would not budge a hair; he heaved and shook it again — it might have been rooted in the ground. The third let loose his rash temper and came on swinging his black-oiled staff. Sha Monk split the blow aside with one hand, drew out the Demon-Subduing precious staff, and twirled it once — brilliant light leaped from it, glowing like rosy clouds scattered. The Provisioning Officer and all the officials stood dumb and staring, speechless. The three young princes knelt down together: "Divine masters, divine masters! We poor mortals did not know you. We beg you — give us a display, so that we may bow and learn." Pilgrim came near, lifted the staff lightly, and said: "It's cramped here — no room to spread out. Wait while I jump into the sky and run through a routine for you to watch."

That great Sage! With a whistle he flipped his somersault, and on two feet riding five-colored auspicious clouds rose into mid-air, about three hundred paces off the ground. He flung the gold-banded staff through Scattering Flowers Over the Crown and Yellow Dragon Turning Its Body, up and down, spinning left and wheeling right. At first man and staff were flowers added to brocade; soon the man was gone from sight, and nothing could be seen but a whole sky of rolling staff. Bajie cheered from below, and his hands and feet would not be held. He shouted: "Wait — old Pig will show his tricks too!" That fine Idiot rode the wind's crest and was up in mid-air, flinging his rake — three high, four low, five left, six right, seven forward, eight back — through every figure of his art, till nothing was heard but the whishing of the wind. In the heat of it Sha Monk said to the elder: "Master, let old Sha go drill a little too." That fine monk! With both feet he sprang, whirling his staff, and rose into the sky, where keen vapor thickened and golden light floated. With both hands he sent the Demon-Subduing staff through Red Phoenix Facing the Sun and Hungry Tiger Pouncing on Its Prey, meeting fast and blocking slow, wheeling quick and darting busy. The three brothers spread their powers wide, all of them in mid-air, flaunting their might and their skill together. And this was truly:

The true Chan's signs are not as other signs; the causes of the great Way fill all the sky.Metal and Wood deal out their might and fill the realm of Law; blade and drop turn and turn again and close in perfect reach.The divine weapons, keen and bright, reveal themselves in season; the cinnabar vessels flower everywhere and are honored.Though India is far and high, there is still the precept of the nature; the Prince of Yuhua's sons come back at last to the center.

The three young princes were so awed they knelt in the dust. In the Exposed-Gauze Pavilion, staff great and small; in the palace, the old prince; through the whole city, soldiers and people, men and women, monks, nuns, priests, and laity — every one of them chanted the Buddha's name and knocked their heads, every household took incense and bowed. And truly:

Seeing the sign, they turn to truth, and monks are brought across; in the world of men good works are done and quiet peace enjoyed.From now the fruit stands ripe on the Bodhi road; all are people who ponder Chan and bow to Buddha.

The three, each showing his prowess, ran through their routines, lowered their auspicious clouds, and gathered in their weapons. Before the Tang monk they saluted, thanked their master's grace, and each sat down. Of that no more.

The three young princes hurried back to the palace and reported to the old prince: "Father, joy beyond all telling — a work of the greatest size is done today. Did you see the display in mid-air just now?" The old prince said: "I saw the rosy clouds in mid-air just now, and with your mother and the rest I burned incense and bowed in the palace court — I could not tell what immortals had come down to gather there." The young princes said: "No immortals from anywhere — they are the three ugly disciples of the scripture-seeking monk. One wields an iron staff with gold bands, one a nine-toothed rake, one the Demon-Subduing precious staff, and against them our three weapons did not count a hair. We asked them to run through a routine, and they said: 'The ground is cramped — no room to manage. Wait till we rise into the sky and run one for you.' Then each rode a cloud, and the whole sky was soft with auspicious clouds and thick with lucky vapor. The moment they came down, they were sitting in the Exposed-Gauze Pavilion. Your sons are overjoyed and wish to take them as masters, to learn their arts and protect our state. It is truly a work beyond measure — what does Father think?" Hearing this, the old prince believed and consented.

At once the father and his three sons went, with no carriage and no canopy, on foot to the Exposed-Gauze Pavilion. The four had packed their luggage, meaning to enter the palace to thank for the meal and take leave of the prince and set out, when they saw the Prince of Yuhua and his sons come up the pavilion steps and fling themselves down in worship. The elder, flustered, drew himself up and threw himself down to return the courtesy; Pilgrim and the others slipped aside with the faintest cold smile. When the bows were done, the four were asked into the palace hall to sit, and they entered gladly. The old prince rose and said: "Master Tang, I have one thing to beg — I do not know whether your three high disciples will allow it." The Tang monk said: "Whatever Your Highness commands, my young disciples dare not refuse." The old prince said: "When I first saw you, I took you for wandering monks come far from Tang — my mortal fleshly eyes truly slighted you. Only when I saw Master Sun, Master Zhu, and Master Sha dance in the sky did I know you for immortals, for Buddhas. My three unworthy sons have loved the arts of war all their lives. Today, with reverent hearts, they wish to take you as masters and learn something of your arts. I beg you, Teacher, open a heart as wide as heaven and earth, launch your merciful ferry, and take my children across. The wealth of a whole city shall be offered in thanks." Hearing this, Pilgrim could not help laughing out: "Your Highness, how little you understand! We who have left home are only too glad to take a few disciples. Since your sons have hearts set on goodness, never speak of profit down to a hair. Let it be affection between us, and that is love enough."

The prince was overjoyed. He at once ordered a grand feast laid out in the main hall of the palace. Ah! At one command it was all ready in a moment. And this is what was seen:

Colored silks flutter and sway; incense smoke breathes thick and sweet.Gold-trimmed tables hung in thin gauze dazzle the eye; lacquered chairs of many colors spread with brocade brighten the seats.Fruits fresh from the tree; tea and broth breathing fragrance.Three or five courses of dainty sweets, clean and delicious; a dish or two of steamed buns, plump and neat.Steamed pastries and honeyed cakes — how rare! Fried crisps under sugar syrup — how good!A few bottles of fragrant glutinous vegetarian wine, poured out, outdo the nectar of jade;several rounds of Yangxian immortal tea, taken in hand, scent down the red cassia.Every kind and every sort is ready; every color and every line is a marvel.

On one side the entertainers sang and danced, played flutes and strings, juggled and acted plays. The master and disciples and the prince and his sons enjoyed themselves a whole day.

Night came before they knew it and the feast broke up. Then they had beds and curtains set in the Exposed-Gauze Pavilion for the masters to rest, saying that at dawn they would burn incense with full sincerity and bow again to beg instruction in the arts. All agreed. They prepared fragrant water and asked the masters to bathe, then went to their own rooms. And it was the hour when:

The birds roost on high and every rustle is still; the poet takes his bed and puts off his chanting.The Milky Way shines and the sky grows brighter; the wild paths are desolate and the grass grows deeper.Washers' mallets clack and knock in another courtyard; passes and hills far away stir the heart toward home.The cold crickets ring out and know a man's mind; their shrill notes by the bed break the dreaming soul.

That night's scene is told and done. Early next morning the old prince and his sons came to see them again. The elder, who yesterday had met them with the courtesies due a prince, was now received with the courtesies due a teacher. The three young princes knocked their heads before Pilgrim, Bajie, and Sha Monk and asked: "Your weapons, honored masters — lend them out for your disciples to look at." Bajie gladly drew out his nail rake and tossed it on the ground. Sha Monk tossed out his precious staff and leaned it by the wall. The second and third princes leaped up to take hold — like dragonflies shaking a stone pillar, every one of them strained red-faced, and could not move them half a hair. The eldest prince called: "Brothers, don't waste your strength. The masters' weapons are all divine arms — who knows how heavy." Bajie laughed: "My rake isn't heavy at all — just one storehouse's count: five thousand and forty-eight catties, handle and all." The third prince asked Sha Monk: "Master, how heavy is your precious staff?" Sha Monk laughed: "Also five thousand and forty-eight catties." The eldest prince asked to see Pilgrim's gold-banded staff. Pilgrim drew a needle from his ear, waved it toward the wind, and it grew thick as a bowl, standing straight up before them. The prince and his sons shuddered, and every official's heart quaked. The three young princes bowed and asked: "Master Zhu's and Master Sha's arms are carried on the body under the clothes, ready to hand. Why does Master Sun draw his from his ear, and why does it grow at a breath of wind?" Pilgrim laughed: "You don't know that this staff of mine is no common thing to be found in the mortal world. This staff is:

When primal chaos first split, the iron was smelted; the divine man Yu the Great set it with his own hands.Lakes and seas, rivers shallow and deep — he knew this staff and its work to the quick.It opened the mountains and ordered the waters in the days of peace, then drifted down to the eastern ocean to guard the sea towers.Long years and deep time let it throw off rosy light; it can shrink and grow and shine clean.Your old Sun had the fortune to fetch it away; its changes have no limit, following the spoken spell.Would it be great, it fills the whole universe; would it be small, it is but the joint of a needle.The staff is named As-You-Will, styled Gold-Banded; in heaven and among men it is called unique.It weighs a good thirteen thousand five hundred catties, and can wax or wane, thick or thin.It has helped me wreck the Heavenly Palace, and gone with me to storm the gates of the under-world.It tames tigers, subdues dragons, passes everywhere; it smelts demons, clears monsters, and works through every quarter.Lift it, point it once at the sun, and the sun goes dark; heaven, earth, ghosts, and gods all quake with fear.Handed down from the age of chaos by immortals to this very day — it was never, you see, mortal iron.

At these words the princes bowed their heads to the ground without end. The three came forward and bowed again and again, begging instruction with devout hearts. Pilgrim said: "Which of the arts do you three wish to learn?" The princes said: "Let whoever wants the staff learn the staff, whoever is used to the rake learn the rake, whoever loves the staff-weapon learn the staff-weapon." Pilgrim laughed: "Teaching is easy enough. Only you have not the strength to wield our weapons, and I fear your learning would never come to anything — like painting a tiger that turns out a dog. The ancients said: 'If the teaching is not strict, the fault is the teacher's sloth; if the learning comes to nothing, the fault is the pupil's.' Since you have sincere hearts, go burn incense and bow to heaven and earth. I will first give you some divine strength, and then teach you the arts."

The three young princes were glad through and through. They carried the incense table with their own hands, washed their hands, burned incense, and bowed toward heaven. When the bows were done they begged the masters to impart the teaching. Pilgrim turned and bowed to the Tang monk: "Let your honored teacher pardon your disciple's fault. Since you rescued me that year at Two-Boundaries Mountain by your great kindness, and I entered the Buddha's teaching and came all this way west, though I have never repaid your grace in full, I have still forded rivers and climbed mountains and spent all my heart and strength. Now in this land of Buddha we have had the good fortune to meet the worthy prince's three sons, who beg to take us as masters and learn the arts of war. Since they are our disciples, they are my master's grand-disciples. I report it to you, my master, so that the teaching may be given rightly." The Tang monk was overjoyed. Bajie and Sha Monk, seeing Pilgrim bow, turned at once and knocked their heads to the Tang monk: "Master, we are dull and slow, clumsy of mouth and tongue, and know not how to speak. We beg you to take the seat of the Law high above, and let the two of us each take a disciple too, for our own remembering on the western road." The Tang monk gladly agreed to all.

Pilgrim then had the three princes go behind the Exposed-Gauze Pavilion into the quiet room, where he drew the spell-dipper figures. He had all three lie face down within, each with eyes shut and spirit stilled. Then he silently spoke the true words and chanted the spells, blew immortal breath into the three princes' hearts and bellies, gathered their primal spirits back to their proper dwelling, and passed on the oral formulae. Each received ten-thousand-fold strength of arm; he worked and stoked the fire — it was like the art of leaving the old womb and changing the bones. He ran the circuit of the day's hours round the whole wheel; then the three young princes woke, scrambled up together, wiped their faces, brimming with spirit, every one big of bone and strong of sinew: the eldest prince could now lift the gold-banded staff, the second could swing the nine-toothed rake, the third could raise the Demon-Subduing staff.

The old prince, seeing it, was glad past measure. He laid another vegetarian feast to thank the master and his three. Before the feast each taught his own: the staff pupil drilled the staff, the rake pupil the rake, the staff-weapon pupil the staff-weapon. Though they turned a few turns and threw a few figures, they were mortals still, and it cost them: one routine, and they panted and gasped, unable to keep at it long. For their masters' weapons were all things of change — their advance and retreat, thrust and lift, waning and waxing by turns, with a natural magic of their own. How could mere mortals come to it in a moment? That day the feast was cleared.

Next day the three princes came again to give thanks: "We are grateful beyond words that the divine masters granted us strength, and though we can now swing the masters' weapons, the changes come hard. We would like to have craftsmen make copies after the pattern of the divine masters' weapons, with the weight reduced — we do not know whether the masters would allow it?" Bajie said: "Good, good, good — well said. Our arms, first, are more than you can wield; and second, we need them to guard the Law and subdue demons. By all means have others made." The prince then summoned smiths, bought ten thousand catties of steel and iron, raised sheds in the front courtyard of the palace, and set up furnaces for the casting. First they spent a day tempering the steel and iron. Next day they asked Pilgrim and the two to take out the gold-banded staff, the nine-toothed rake, and the Demon-Subduing staff and lay them in the shed as models for the work. And so it went day and night without stopping.

Ah! These arms were the companions of the three men's bodies, not to be left for a moment; hidden on their persons, their many glories guarded them. Now, lying several days in the shed yard, their rosy light shot ten thousand rays up at the sky, and their lucky vapor spread a thousand kinds of glow over the ground. That night a demon living some seventy li from the city — the mountain called Leopard-Head Mountain, the cave called Tiger's-Mouth Cave — sitting in the night, suddenly saw the rosy light and lucky vapor, rode a cloud to look, and saw the glow rising from within the prince's palace. He dropped his cloud, came near, and saw it was these three weapons shining. The demon, delighted and enamored, said: "Fine treasures, fine treasures! What person uses these, to leave them lying here? It must be my destiny — I'll take them, take them!" His craving stirred, he raised his powers, swept up all three weapons at one go, and turned straight back to his cave. And this was truly:

The Way is not left for an instant; what can be left is not the Way.The divine arms all lost to emptiness — a waste of all the seekers' labor.

How the weapons will be found again, who can say? Listen to the next chapter to find out.