Chapter 97

Gold Honors the Guardian Without, and a Fiend’s Sting Falls; the Sage Appears in a Dark Soul and Saves the Root

To say nothing of how the Tang monk’s party endured the night rain for shelter in the broken rooms of the Lodge of Radiant Splendor: in the city of Earth-Spirit County, Tongtai Prefecture, there was a pack of scoundrels who, through brothels, drink, and gambling, had run through their estates and had no way to live; so they banded together, a dozen or more of them, to play the thief, reckoning which house in the city was richest and which second richest, to go rob gold and silver for their spending. One of them said: “No need to hunt or calculate. Only today Squire Kou’s house, that saw off the monks of the Tang, is overflowing with wealth. On this night of rain no one in the streets keeps watch, and the fire-watch men make no rounds; let us fall on it now, take some capital, and go off to our whores and dice for fun—would that not be fine?” The thieves were delighted, set their hearts as one, took short knives, caltrops, crowbars, bludgeons, hempen ropes, and torches, and came on through the rain, broke open the Kou family’s great gate, and with a shout rushed in killing. All within, great and small, man and woman, hid themselves clean away: the dame hid under the bed; the old man slipped behind the door; Kou Liang and Kou Dong, with the children related to them, fled trembling every way for their lives. The pack of thieves, knives in hand, torches lighted, broke open chests and hampers and ransacked without stint the gold and silver, the jewels and clothes, the vessels and household goods. The squire could not bear to lose it; he staked his life, came out the door, and pleaded to the bandits: “Great kings, take what will serve you, but leave a few pieces of clothing for this old man’s burial.” The bandits would hear no word; they ran up and gave Squire Kou a kick square in the groin and knocked him to the ground. Ah, pity! His three souls, dim and drifting, went home to the dark courts; his seven spirits, far floating, took leave of the world of men! The thieves, their work done, went out of the Kou house, made a rope ladder against the foot of the wall, let themselves one by one down over the city wall, and fled west through the rain all night. Only when the thieves were gone did the servants of the Kou house put out their heads, and looking, found the old squire lying dead on the ground. They wept aloud: “Heaven! Our master has been beaten to death!” All threw themselves on the body weeping and wailing.

Toward the fourth watch the dame, brooding on how the Tang monk’s party had refused her offerings, and how the lavish send-off had drawn down this calamity, conceived a jealous hate and was minded to ruin the four of them. Leaning on Kou Liang, she said: “Child, no more weeping. Your father fed monks today and fed monks tomorrow—who would have thought that, making his vow complete today, he would feed that crew of life-taking monks?” The brothers said: “Mother, how ‘life-taking monks’?” The dame said: “The thieves came fierce and bold, killing into the room; I hid under the bed, trembling, watching close by the lamplight, and saw plainly. And who do you think it was? The one who lit the fire was the Tang monk; the one with the knife was Zhu Bajie; the one who carried off the gold and silver was Sha Monk; and the one who beat your father to death was Sun Pilgrim.” The two sons, hearing it, took it for truth: “Mother, since you saw plainly, it must be so. They lived in our house half a month and know every door and wall, window and lane of it. Money stirs men’s hearts; so, taking this night of rain, they came back to our house, robbed the goods and murdered our father—what venom is in it! At daybreak we will file a complaint of robbery at the prefecture, and name them to their faces.” Kou Dong said: “How shall the complaint be written?” Kou Liang said: “Just as mother says.” It ran:

The Tang monk lit the fire; Bajie cried the killing; Sha Monk carried off the gold and silver; Sun Pilgrim beat my father to death.

The whole house clamored and wailed until the sky grew light. On one side kinsmen were called and coffins got ready; on the other the Kou Liang brothers went to the prefecture with their plaint. Now the prefect of Tongtai, chief magistrate:

All his life upright, by nature worthy and good. In youth he bent over the snowy desk at his books; in early years he answered before the golden chime. Constantly he bore a heart of loyalty and right; ever he cherished thoughts of mercy. His name is spread on the green pages for a thousand years—a Gong or a Huang seen again; his voice rings through the yellow hall for ten thousand ages—a Zhuo or a Lu born anew.

He took his seat in the hall, dispatched the day’s business, and ordered out the placard inviting complaints. The Kou Liang brothers carried the placard in, knelt, and cried aloud: “Your Honor, your servants bring a grave charge of robbery, taking of goods, and taking of life.” The prefect took the complaint, read this and that, so and so, and asked: “Yesterday word came that your house had completed its vow of feeding monks—fed four noble monks, arhats of the Tang of the Eastern Land—and with drums and music seen them down the street in all splendor. How comes this?” The Kou brothers knocked their heads: “Your Honor, our father Kou Hong has fed monks twenty-four years. Because these four monks came from afar and made up the count of ten thousand, he made the completion and kept them half a month. They learned our roads and doors, our windows and lanes, by heart. Sent off that day, they came back that very night; in the dark of wind and rain they came with open torches and weapons in hand, killed into the room, robbed the gold and silver, the treasures and clothes and jewels, and beat our father dead on the ground. We beg Your Honor to do justice for us common folk.” The prefect, hearing it, mustered mounted and foot constables and the militia, a hundred and fifty men in all, each with a sharp weapon, went out the west gate, and came straight in pursuit of the Tang monk’s four.

Now master and disciples had endured under the broken roof of the Lodge of Radiant Splendor until daybreak, then gone out and taken the road west. Just so, those robbers had robbed the Kou house in the night, let themselves down outside the wall, and taken the western highway too; walking past daybreak and beyond the Lodge of Radiant Splendor, some twenty li, they hid in a mountain hollow to divide the gold and silver and the rest. The division was not yet done when they saw the Tang monk’s four coming along the road. The thieves’ hearts were not yet satisfied; they pointed at the Tang monk: “Are not those the monks we saw off yesterday?” The thieves laughed: “Well come, well come. We are in this godless trade already; these monks have come along the road and lodged long at the Kou house—no telling how much they carry. Let us bar their way, take their traveling money, and seize the white horse to boot—would that not be a thing to please us wholly?” The thieves took up their weapons, gave a shout, ran onto the highway, and spread out in a line, calling: “Monks, do not move! Leave the road money quickly and we will spare your lives; crack half a ‘no’ between your teeth, and it is one stroke a man—not one of you left.” The Tang monk shook on his horse; Sha Monk and Bajie’s hearts fluttered, and they said to Pilgrim: “What now, what now? We bore half a night of rain, and early we meet robbers barring the road—truly ‘calamities do not come single.’” Pilgrim laughed: “Master, do not fear; brothers, do not worry. Let old Monkey go and question them.”

Great Sage that he was, he gathered up his tiger-skin kilt, shook out his brocade cassock, went near, folded his hands on his breast, and said: “Gentlemen, what is your trade?” The thieves barked: “The fellow does not know death from life, to come questioning us. Have you no eyes under that forehead, not to know your kings and masters? Hand over the road money quickly, and we let you pass.” Pilgrim, all smiles, said: “So you are highway robbers.” The thieves shouted fiercely: “Kill him.” Pilgrim feigned terror: “Great kings, great kings—I am a village monk, I have no manners; forgive the offense, forgive it. If you want road money, do not ask those three—ask only me. I keep the accounts; the sutra money and the gift money, what was begged and what was given, all are in the bundle, and I keep them in and out. That one on horseback is my master, but he only recites sutras and minds no business—money and beauty are both forgotten; he has not a hair. That black-faced one is a lad I took up on the road; he can only tend horses. That long-mouthed one is my hired hand; he can only carry loads. Let the three pass, and I will give you the traveling money and the robe and bowl, every bit.” The thieves all said: “This monk is an honest fellow at least. So be it: we spare your life. Let those three drop their loads and pass.” Pilgrim looked back and cast a glance; Sha Monk dropped the load, led the horse with master, and went straight west with Bajie.

Pilgrim bent down, opened the bundle, scooped a handful of dust from the ground, flung it up, pronounced a charm—the spell of fixing—and cried: “Stay!” That pack of thieves, some thirty of them, one and all, ground their teeth, opened their eyes, spread their hands, and stood rooted where they were, able neither to speak nor to move. Pilgrim leaped out to the roadside and called: “Master, come back, come back.” Bajie panicked: “Bad, bad—elder brother has given us away. He has no money on him, no silver in the bundle; surely he is calling for master to give up the horse. He is calling us to be stripped of our clothes.” Sha Monk laughed: “Second brother, no nonsense. Elder brother is not to be trifled with; such poisonous devils and cruel fiends he has subdued—does he fear a few mangy thieves? He calls us back; he must have a word. Go back and look quickly.” The elder gladly turned his horse, came back to the roadside, and asked: “Wukong, what business calls us back?” Pilgrim said: “Look you—what do you make of these thieves?” Bajie came near, pushed one, and called: “Robber, why do you not stir?” The thief was wholly without sense and said nothing. Bajie said: “Fine—he has gone dumb.” Pilgrim laughed: “Old Monkey fixed them with the spell of fixing.” Bajie said: “If their bodies are fixed but their mouths not, why do they not make a sound?” Pilgrim said: “Master, get down and sit. As the saying goes: ‘Better to arrest by mistake than release by mistake.’ Brothers, knock the thieves all over and bind them, and make them confess a deposition—let us see whether they are greenhorn robbers or practiced ones.” Sha Monk said: “There is no rope.” Pilgrim plucked out some hairs, blew on them a breath of immortal air, and made thirty ropes. All fell to and knocked the thieves down and trussed them, four limbs together. Then he recited the loosening spell, and the thieves slowly came to.

Pilgrim had the Tang monk seated above, and the three, weapons in hand, cried: “Mangy thieves! How many are in your band? How many years at this trade? How much have you robbed? Have you killed or wounded? Is this your first offense, or second or third?” The thieves opened their mouths: “Spare our lives, masters!” Pilgrim said: “No bawling; confess the truth.” The thieves said: “Your worships, we are not old, practiced thieves but sons of decent families. Only, being worthless, we drank and gamed and wenched and played till we had spent our fathers’ and grandfathers’ estates; we had no trade and no money to spend. We learned that Squire Kou’s house in Tongtai city was rich beyond telling; yesterday we banded together, and that very night, in the darkness and rain, we went to rob. We got some gold and silver and clothing, and were in the hollow north of this road dividing the spoil when we saw your worships coming. Some of us knew you for those the squire had seen off, and guessed you must have goods about you; we saw the loads were heavy and the white horse swift. Greed has no bottom, so we came again to waylay you. Who could know your worships had such divine powers as to pin us fast? We beg your mercy: take the stolen goods and spare our lives.”

Tripitaka, hearing it was the Kou family’s goods, was startled and stood up in haste: “Wukong, old Squire Kou is so good and kind—how has this calamity found him?” Pilgrim laughed: “Only because, seeing us off, he made such a show—colored canopies and flowered banners, a great din of music—that it caught men’s eyes, and this pack of rascals went to fall on his house. And now, luckily for us, we have met them and won back all this gold and silver and clothing.” Tripitaka said: “We troubled his house half a month and, grateful for his kindness, have nothing to repay it with. Would it not be a good deed to escort these goods back to his house?” Pilgrim agreed. He went with Bajie and Sha Monk to the hollow, gathered up the stolen goods, and loaded them on the horse; he had Bajie carry one load of gold and silver and Sha Monk his own bundle. Pilgrim longed to beat the whole pack of robbers dead with one blow of his staff, but feared the Tang monk would blame him for taking men’s lives; so he shook his body and drew in the hairs. The thieves’ hands and feet were loosed; they scrambled up and fled away helter-skelter for their lives. The Tang monk turned his steps about to carry the goods back to the squire—a going that was like the moth flying into the flame, to meet the bane instead. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

Kindness repaid with kindness—how rare in the world; instead they turned grace and mercy into enmity.To go down into the water to save a man is in the end to come to grief; think three times before acting, and there is no care.

Tripitaka’s party, carrying the gold and silver and clothing back, had gone only a little way when they saw spears and blades coming thick upon them. Tripitaka was greatly startled: “Disciples, look—that press of weapons closing in. What can it mean?” Bajie said: “Ruin, ruin! It is the robbers we let go: they have got weapons, joined more men, and turned back along the road to fight us.” Sha Monk said: “Second brother, what comes there is no bandit troop.—Elder brother, look carefully.” Pilgrim said softly to Sha Monk: “Master’s baleful star has come round again. This must be the soldiers hunting the robbers.” Before the words were done the soldiers were upon them, flung out a circling ring, and closed the four in, crying: “Fine monks! Rob a house, and here you are strutting about!” They swarmed up, seized the Tang monk off his horse and bound him with ropes, and bound Pilgrim and the other two as well. Poles were thrust through, two men to carry one; the horse was driven, the loads seized, and away they went straight to the prefecture city. And there was:

Tripitaka Tang, trembling all over, tears falling and no word;Zhu Bajie, mumbling and muttering, resentment in his heart;Sha Monk, chest heaving and sinking, his mind full of doubt;Sun Pilgrim, grinning and cheerful, ready to show his art.

The soldiers came pressing and carrying, and in a moment they were in the city, taken straight up to the yellow hall and reported: “Your Honor, the constables have taken the robbers.” The prefect sat in state, rewarded the constables, examined the stolen goods, and ordered the Kou family to reclaim them. Then he had Tripitaka and the rest brought up before the bench and asked: “You monks called yourselves come from the Eastern Land to worship the Buddha in the western heaven—and it seems you are a pack of thieves, casing the roads under pretense and robbing house by house.” Tripitaka said: “Hear me, Your Honor: this poor monk is truly no thief—I would never pretend it—and my rescript of passage is with me to prove it. Squire Kou fed us half a month, and his kindness was deep; we met robbers on the road, took back the goods they had robbed from the Kou house, and were carrying them home to repay the kindness, when the constables seized us and took us for thieves. We are truly no thieves. I beg Your Honor to look carefully.” The prefect said: “The fellow is caught by the soldiers, and talks glibly of repaying kindness. If you met the robbers, why did you not seize them too and hand them to the court, repaying kindness? How is it only the four of you? Look here—Kou Liang has filed his complaint and named you to your faces; will you struggle still?” Tripitaka, hearing it, was like the great sea swallowing a boat: soul and spirit fled from him. He called: “Wukong, why do you not come up and plead?” Pilgrim said: “The goods are on us in fact—what is there to plead?” The prefect said: “Just so—the proof of goods is here; will you deny it still?” He called his men: “Bring the head-crusher; crush this bald thief’s skull once, and then the beating.” Pilgrim was alarmed, and thought in his heart: “Though this calamity is allotted to my master, I cannot let him suffer too sorely.” Seeing the runners getting ready ropes and the head-crusher, he spoke up at once: “Your Honor, crush no other monk. In last night’s robbery of the Kou house, it was I who lit the torches, I who held the knife, I who carried off the goods, I who did the killing. I am the chief of the thieves; beat me alone—they have nothing to do with it—only do not let me go.” The prefect, hearing it, ordered this one crushed first. The runners came at him together, fitted the head-crusher on Pilgrim, and gave it a violent squeeze—crack!—the rope snapped. They tied again and crushed again—crack!—it snapped again. Three or four times they crushed him, and the skin of his head never so much as wrinkled.

As they changed to a new rope to tie again, word came: “Your Honor, His Lordship the Grand Guardian Chen of the capital has arrived; he begs you go out beyond the walls to meet him.” The prefect ordered the prison clerk: “Lock up the thieves, and watch them well. When I have received my superior, we will question them under torture.” The clerk pushed the Tang monk’s four through the prison gate. Bajie and Sha Monk carried in their bundles. Tripitaka said: “Disciples, how did it come to this?” Pilgrim laughed: “Master, in, in! There are no dogs barking in here—it is rather fun.” Pity! The four were driven in, one and all thrust onto the prisoner’s beds, strapped with belly-band, head-strap, and chest-clamp. The jailers came and beat them at random. Tripitaka, past bearing the pain, could only cry: “Wukong, what is to be done? What is to be done?” Pilgrim said: “They beat to get money. As the saying goes: ‘In comfort, lodge; in hardship, spend.’ Give them some money and it will be over.” Tripitaka said: “Where would my money come from?” Pilgrim said: “If there is no money, clothes will do—give them the cassock.” At this Tripitaka felt a knife stabbed into his heart; but seeing the beating would not stop, he could only say: “Wukong, as you will.”

Pilgrim called: “Gentlemen officers, no more beating. In the two bundles we brought in there is a brocade cassock worth a thousand gold; untie it and take it.” The jailers, hearing, fell to at once and untied the two bundles. Though there were a few cloth garments, though there was the satchel, nothing was of value. Then they saw a thing wrapped in many layers of oiled paper, blazing with rosy light, and knew it for something precious. They shook it open, and behold:

Of cunning work, strung with bright pearls; of rare make, heaped with the Buddhas’ jewels.Coiling dragons spread in embroidered knots; flying phoenixes border the brocade edge.

All crowded to look, and the prison governor of the office was stirred, and came striding: “What is all this bawling here?” The jailers knelt: “Your honor, just now at the questioning, four monks were sent down to us—a whole band of robbers. When we had given them a few blows they gave us these two bundles. We opened them and saw this thing, and knew not what to do: if we tore it to pieces among us it were a pity; if one man had it alone, the rest got nothing. Happily your honor has come; be so good as to make the division.” The governor saw it was a cassock, examined the other clothes and the satchel too, opened the rescript of passage in the satchel, and saw the sealed marks and signatures of the various kingdoms: “A good thing I came to look! Otherwise you would have blundered into trouble. These monks are no robbers; touch none of their things. Wait till the magistrate questions them again tomorrow, and all will be known.” The jailers, hearing, gave back the bundles, wrapped them as before, and gave them into the governor’s keeping.

It grew late by degrees; they heard the drum rise from the tower and the fire-watch making the rounds. Enduring until the fourth watch, third point, Pilgrim saw them all lying still, none groaning, all asleep, and thought: “My master was allotted this one night’s calamity of prison. That is why old Monkey did not open his mouth to plead nor use his powers. Now the fourth watch is nearly spent and the calamity nearly full; I must go make things ready, so that at dawn we can walk out of the prison gate.” See him show his art: he made his body smaller and slipped out of the prisoner’s bed; shook himself and turned into a midge, and flew out through a crack of the eaves’ tiles. The stars shone, the moon was bright—a mild and quiet night. He took his bearings and flew straight to the Kou family’s gate, where he saw a house west of the street with lamps burning bright. Flying near its door he saw it was a bean-curd maker: an old man tending the fire, the dame pressing the milk. Suddenly the old man cried: “Old woman, Master Kou had sons and wealth enough, but no span of life. We were schoolfellows as boys, and I am five years his elder. His father was called Kou Ming; in those days he had not a thousand acres, lent a little at rent, and could not even keep a hired man. When he was twenty the old man Ming died, and he took charge of the estate. Indeed it was his run of luck: the wife he married was the daughter of Zhang Wang, by pet name Thread-the-Needle, and she it was who made his fortune prosper; from the day she entered his door the farming yielded and the lending rose; what he bought turned a profit, what he crafted sold well, and so he scraped together a hundred thousand of estate. At forty he turned his heart to the good and fed ten thousand monks. Who would have thought that last night the robbers kicked him to death? Pity! This year he was but sixty-four, just in his enjoyment. That one so given to the good should have no good reward, but die an unnatural death—it is sad, it is sad!”

Pilgrim listened to it all; it was now the first point of the fifth watch. He flew into the Kou house, and saw the coffin already set in the main room, a lamp burning at its head, incense, candles, flowers, and fruit arrayed; the dame weeping beside it; his two sons come also to wail and bow; two daughters-in-law offering two bowls of rice. Pilgrim lighted on the coffin head and gave a cough. The two daughters-in-law threw up their hands and flung themselves out the door; the Kou brothers groveled on the ground and dared not move, crying only: “Father! Ah, ah…” But the old dame was bold; she clapped the coffin head: “Old squire, are you alive?” Pilgrim mimicked the squire’s voice: “I am not alive.” The two sons were more frightened still, knocking their heads without pause, tears falling, crying: “Father! Ah, ah…” The dame hardened her heart and asked: “Squire, if you are not alive, how do you speak?” Pilgrim said: “I am sent home by King Yama’s ghostly messengers, in their custody, to speak with you. That Zhang woman, Thread-the-Needle, has perjured her tongue and wronged the innocent.” Hearing her pet name called, the dame fell to her knees in terror: “Good old man—to call my pet name at your great age! Where have I perjured my tongue, and whom have I wronged?” Pilgrim cried: “There was a certain ‘The Tang monk lit the fire, Bajie cried the killing, Sha Monk carried off the gold and silver, Pilgrim beat your father dead.’ Because of your lying words, good men are in distress. Those four masters of the Tang met robbers on the road, took back the goods, and brought them to thank me—what kindness was that! And you forged the complaint of robbery and set your sons to inform against them. The court has not even questioned them closely, and now has them jailed. The god of the prison, the earth god, and the city god are all in dread, unable to sit or stand, and have reported it to King Yama. King Yama in turn sent ghostly messengers to escort me home to tell you to free them quickly and early; otherwise I shall be left to haunt this house a month and will leave not one of the whole family, old and young, nor so much as a chicken or a dog.” The Kou brothers knocked their heads and pleaded: “Father, go back, and do no hurt to old or young. At daybreak we will go to the prefecture and file the petition of release; we will own the wrong and recall the charge—only let the living and the dead be both at peace.” Hearing this, Pilgrim called: “Burn paper—I am going.” The whole family came to burn paper.

Pilgrim gave one flap of his wings and flew next into the prefect’s own house. Looking down, he saw the room already lit; the prefect was up. He flew into the central hall and looked: on the back wall in the middle hung a painted scroll, an officer riding a dappled horse, with attendants holding a blue umbrella and carrying a sedan chair—he could not make out what story it told. Pilgrim lighted in the middle of it. Suddenly the prefect came out of his room, stooping, washing and combing. Pilgrim gave a sudden cough from within, and the prefect, in a fright, darted back into the room. When his washing was done and his great robes on, he came out, burned incense before the picture, and prayed: “At the sacred seat of my uncle, Jiang Qianyi: your filial nephew Jiang Kunsan, sheltered by the virtue of our ancestors, has had the grace to pass the higher examination, and now holds the post of prefect of Tongtai. Morning and evening your incense is served without cease. Why do you give voice today? Let it be no demon, no haunting, to frighten the household.” Pilgrim laughed to himself: “So this is his uncle’s spirit tablet.” And taking up the thread of it, he called: “Worthy nephew Kunsan! You hold office by your ancestors’ grace, and have been clean and honest all along. Why, yesterday, in ignorance, did you treat four holy monks as thieves, and, without examining the matter, jail them? The god of the prison, the earth god, and the city god are troubled, and have reported it to King Yama. King Yama has sent ghostly messengers to escort me to tell you: look into feeling and reason, and free them quickly; otherwise you shall be taken to the dark courts to answer for it.” The prefect, hearing, trembled in spirit: “Uncle, go back; your nephew will take the hall and release them at once.” Pilgrim said: “If so, burn paper, that I may go back and answer to King Yama.” The prefect added incense, burned paper, and bowed his thanks.

Pilgrim flew out again and saw the east already whitening. Flying on to Earth-Spirit County, he found the officials of the whole county all in the hall. He thought: “A midge that talks—if seen, it would give the show away.” In mid-air he changed into a great dharma body and stretched a foot down out of the sky that filled the county hall, calling: “Officials, hear me: I am the Roaming God sent by the Jade Emperor. He says that in this prefecture’s jail you have wrongfully beaten the Buddha’s sons who seek the scriptures, troubling all the gods of the three realms; he bids me tell you to free them at once. If there is any slip, I shall come back with this foot: first to kick the officials of prefecture and county to death, then to stamp the people of the four borders to death, and tread the city into ashes.” The officials and clerks of the whole county fell on their knees together, knocking their heads in worship: “Great Holiness, go back, we pray. We will go into the prefecture this moment, report to the prefect, and have them freed at once. Do not move your foot, we beg—a fright would kill your servants.” Pilgrim then drew in his dharma body, turned midge again, flew in through a crack of the prison roof tiles, and lay down again in the middle of the prisoner’s bed.

Now the prefect took his hall, and had scarcely carried out the placard for complaints when the Kou brothers came kneeling at the gate with the placard in their arms, crying out. The prefect bade them come in, and they handed up the petition of release. The prefect, seeing it, flew into a rage: “Yesterday you filed the complaint, and I took the thieves for you, and you reclaimed the goods; why do you come today filing a petition of release?” The two, in tears, said: “Your Honor, last night our father’s soul appeared and said: ‘The holy monks of the Tang in fact took the robbers and won back the goods, and let the robbers go; in kindness they were bringing the goods home to repay our kindness—how could you take them for thieves and jail them to suffer? The earth god and city god of the jail are troubled and reported it to King Yama; King Yama sent ghostly messengers escorting me to tell you to go to the prefecture and sue again for their release, to avert calamity; otherwise old and young will all perish.’ So we have come to file the petition of release. We beg Your Honor to be merciful.” The prefect heard them out and thought to himself: “Their father’s body was still warm—a new ghost showing itself; such requital might pass. But my uncle has been dead five or six years—how should he too show himself in the night and bid me try and release them? It seems the men must be wronged.”

While he was pondering, the magistrate of Earth-Spirit County and the other officers came hurrying up the hall, crying all at once: “Your Excellency, ruin, ruin! Just now the Roaming God, sent by the Jade Emperor, came down and bids you free the innocent men in jail at once. Those monks taken yesterday are no robbers but the Buddha’s sons who seek the scriptures. Any delay, and we officers will be kicked to death, and the city and its people stamped into ashes as well.” The prefect turned pale with fright and ordered the prison clerk to write the warrant at once and have them brought up. The prison gate was opened and they were brought out. Bajie fretted: “How will they beat us today?” Pilgrim laughed: “Not one blow shall touch you; old Monkey has arranged everything. At the hall, on no account kneel; he will come down and beg us to be seated. Wait till I demand our luggage and our horse—and if a hair of them is missing, watch me beat him.”

Before the words were done they were at the hall mouth. The prefect, the magistrate, and all the officers of prefecture and county, seeing them, came down to welcome them: “Holy monks, when you came yesterday we were hurried in receiving our superior, and then we saw the goods that had been taken, and had no time to question closely.” The Tang monk pressed his palms and bowed, and told the whole story again in detail. The officers confessed it with full mouths: “We were wrong, we were wrong. Forgive us, forgive us.” They asked too whether anything had been lost in the jail. Pilgrim came near, glaring, and called in a stern voice: “My white horse—the men of the hall have it; the luggage—the men of the jail have it. Bring them back, and quickly! Today it is my turn to examine you: seizing innocent men as thieves—what is the guilt of that?” The officers of prefecture and county, seeing his fierceness, feared him every one, and called at once for the keepers of the horse to lead the horse, the keepers of the luggage to bring the luggage, and everything was delivered up in full. See the three of them flaunting their fierceness, while the officers covered themselves with the Kou affair. Tripitaka made peace among them: “Disciples, we shall come at it no clearer this way. Let us go to the Kou house: first to condole, second to confront them and see who it was that saw me playing the thief.” Pilgrim said: “Well said. Let old Monkey call up the dead man, and we shall see who beat him.”

Sha Monk had the Tang monk hoisted onto his horse there in the prefecture hall, and with shouts and halloos they swept out in a body. The many officers of prefecture and county followed them, every one, to the Kou house, frightening the Kou brothers into knocking their heads without pause at the gate and ushering them into the hall. In the hall of mourning the whole family were weeping within the mourning curtains. Pilgrim called: “Dame, you that told lies and planted the wrong on innocent men—do not cry. Let old Monkey call your husband up, and we will hear him say who beat him to death—and put her to the blush.” The officers took Sun Pilgrim’s words for a jest. Pilgrim said: “Gentlemen, sit with my master a while. Bajie, Sha Monk, guard him well. I go and come.” Great Sage that he was, he sprang out the gate and rose into the air; bright clouds everywhere veiled the house, and auspicious vapor filled the sky and shielded his dark spirit. Only then did they all know him for an immortal riding the clouds and mists, a sage who raises the dead—and they burned incense and bowed, one and all—but no more of that.

The Great Sage rode his somersault cloud all the way to the dark borders of the netherworld and burst straight into the Hall of Senluo. And it put them in such a fright that:

The Yama kings of the ten courts, with folded hands, came to meet him; the ghost judges of the five quarters bowed their heads in welcome.A thousand trees of swords leaned all aslant; ten thousand folds of knife mountains were smoothed flat.In the City of Wrongful Death the demons were transformed; beneath the Bridge of the Nai River the ghosts were born upward.Truly, at one shining of that divine light, like a general amnesty of heaven, the dark courts of the dead grew bright on every side.

The ten kings received the Great Sage; they met, and asked his errand. Pilgrim said: “The ghost of Kou Hong, who fed monks in Earth-Spirit County of Tongtai—who has taken him in? Look him up and bring him to me.” The ten kings said: “Kou Hong the goodman—no ghostly messenger hooked him away; he came here of himself and met the gold-robed page of Kshitigarbha, who presented him.” Pilgrim took his leave at once and went straight to the Palace of Kingfisher Cloud to see the Bodhisattva Kshitigarbha. When the courtesies were done he told the whole matter. The Bodhisattva said gladly: “Kou Hong’s span of life was only to its reckoned number, and he died without touching a sickbed, leaving the world cleanly. Because he fed monks and was a goodman, I took him as keeper of the ledger of good karma. Since the Great Sage has come for him, I will extend his span one more round of twelve years, and send him back with the Great Sage.” The gold-robed page brought out Kou Hong. Seeing Pilgrim, Kou Hong cried again and again: “Master, master, save me!” Pilgrim said: “You were kicked to death by robbers, and this is the dark court of the Bodhisattva Kshitigarbha. Old Monkey has come specially to take you back to the world of light to clear this matter up. Since the Bodhisattva in his grace lets you return, and has stretched your span twelve years besides, you will come again when the twelve years are out.” The squire bowed his head to the ground without end.

Pilgrim thanked and took leave of the Bodhisattva, blew him into a breath of vapor, and stowed him in his sleeve; they went back through the dark courts and returned to the world of light. Riding his cloud head he reached the Kou house, had Bajie push back the coffin lid, and pressed the soul into its body. In a moment breath came out and he lived. The squire crawled out of the coffin, knocked his head to the Tang monk’s four: “Masters, masters—Kou Hong died an unnatural death, and by the masters’ going down to the dark courts and bringing me back to life, you have given me life a second time.” He thanked them without end, and turning and seeing the officers arrayed, knocked his head again: “My lords, what brings you all to my poor house?” The prefect said: “At first your sons filed the complaint and named the holy monks, and I sent men to take them. Unexpectedly the holy monks had met on the road the robbers who killed and robbed your house, had taken back the goods, and were bringing them home to you. My underlings seized them by mistake, and without close questioning committed them to jail. Last night your soul appeared; my late uncle came home too to complain; and in the county the Roaming God came down from Heaven—all these signs at once—so we released the holy monks. And the holy monks went and brought you back to life.” The squire knelt: “My lords, those four holy monks were wronged indeed. That night more than thirty robbers, with open torches and weapons in hand, robbed us of our estate. I could not bear it and went to reason with the robbers, and who could know he would give me one kick, square in the groin, and kill me? What had these four to do with it?” He called his wife to him: “Who was it kicked me to death? And you dared to lodge a false complaint? Beg the lords to fix the guilt.” The whole family, old and young, could only knock their heads. The prefect in his grace remitted the offense. Kou Hong ordered a banquet laid to thank the kindness of prefecture and county; not one of them would sit, and all returned to their offices. The next day the placard of feeding monks was hung out again, and they pressed Tripitaka to stay; but Tripitaka would not by any means. Then kin and friends were called, banners and canopies made ready, and they were seen off on their way as before. Ah! And this was it:

The earth, though opened wide, can hold the deeds of the wicked; heaven, though high, never fails the good of heart.At ease, with steady steps, on the Tathagata’s path—straight on to the gate of bliss at Vulture Peak.

But how it fared when they came before the Buddha? Listen to the next chapter to find out.

A Host Who Gave Gold Suffers an Attack; A Holy One Shows Himself to the Dead and Saves a Life

While Tripitaka and his disciples endured the rain in the ruined Huaguang Chapel, a group of troublemakers in Diling County had spent their family property on prostitutes, drink, and gambling. They formed a gang of more than ten thieves and discussed which wealthy house to rob. One said, “We don't need to investigate. Lord Kou, who sent off those Tang monks today, is very rich. In this rainy night, people won't be watchful and the patrols won't be out. Let's rob him and use the money for more gambling and women.” They agreed. Armed with short knives, spiked weapons, clubs, ropes, and torches, they went through the rain, broke open Kou's door, and charged in shouting. Everyone in the family hid: his wife under a bed, Kou behind a door, while their sons Kou Liang and Kou Dong and the other children fled in fear. The thieves forced open chests and took silver, gold, jewels, ornaments, clothes, vessels, and household goods. Unable to bear losing everything, Kou came out and begged, “Take enough for yourselves, but leave an old man a few clothes for his funeral.” They kicked him viciously between the legs and knocked him down. His spirit left his body, and he died. The thieves took their goods to the city wall, lowered themselves on makeshift ladders, and fled westward in the rain. When the servants emerged, they found Kou dead on the ground. “Heaven help us! They've killed the master!” They gathered around his body and wept.

Near the fourth watch, Kou's wife felt bitter that the Tang monks had refused to stay and eat her food. She blamed the lavish farewell for attracting the thieves and decided to accuse the four monks. She told Kou Liang, “Stop crying. Your father fed monks day after day, only to complete his vow by feeding the very monks who brought him death.” “What do you mean?” her sons asked. “I hid under the bed when the thieves rushed in and saw everything by torchlight. The Tang monk held a torch, Zhu Bajie carried a knife, Sha Monk stole the silver and gold, and Pilgrim Sun killed your father.” Believing her, the sons said, “They stayed half a month and learned every doorway, wall, window, and passage. Greed brought them back in the rain to kill Father and rob us! We'll accuse them by name at court tomorrow.” Kou Dong asked how to write the complaint, and Kou Liang dictated his mother's story:

“The Tang monk held a torch; Bajie shouted for someone to be killed. Sha Monk carried out our gold and silver; Pilgrim Sun killed our father.”

By morning they had called family members and arranged a coffin. The brothers went to the prefect's court to present their complaint. The prefect of Tongtai was:

Honest throughout his life and kindly by nature. As a young man he studied diligently and passed the highest civil examination. He valued loyalty and justice, and cared deeply about others. His name deserved to live for a thousand years beside the great administrators Gong Sui and Huang Ba; his reputation was like that of the ancient officials Zhuo and Lu.

The prefect took his seat and heard his daily cases. When a sign was raised to invite complaints, the brothers came in, clung to it, and knelt. “Sir, we accuse robbers who took our property and killed our father.” The prefect read the statement. “Only yesterday I heard that your father completed his vow to feed ten thousand monks. You sent off four holy men from Tang with flags and music through the streets. How could this have happened?” Kou Liang explained that their father Kou Hong had fed monks for twenty-four years, and the four had completed the number. They had stayed half a month and learned the house. “After we escorted them out, they returned at night in the rain with weapons and torches, robbed us, and killed Father. Please give us justice.” The prefect assembled a hundred and fifty armed officers, patrolmen, and local guards and sent them out of the western gate after the monks.

At daybreak, Tripitaka's party left the ruined chapel and continued west. The real thieves had passed the chapel and traveled about twenty li farther. Hidden in a mountain hollow, they were dividing their loot when they saw the four monks coming along the road. “Aren't those the monks Lord Kou sent off?” one asked. “Great! They were Kou's guests and must have valuables with them. We can seize their travel money and white horse too!” They ran into the road with weapons and blocked it. “Stop, monks! Pay to pass if you want to live. Say a word against it, and we'll kill every one of you.” Tripitaka shook with fear on his horse. Bajie and Sha Monk said, “We suffered through rain all night only to meet robbers this morning. Trouble really does come twice!” Pilgrim smiled. “Don't worry. I'll speak to them.”

The Great Sage adjusted his tiger-skin skirt and coat and stepped forward. “What are you doing, gentlemen?” “Are you blind?” the thieves shouted. “Don't you recognize your masters? Pay us and pass.” Pilgrim smiled. “Oh, you're highway robbers.” “Kill him!” they cried. Pretending to be frightened, he said, “Forgive me. I'm a country monk who doesn't know how to speak properly. If you want money, ask me, not the other three. I'm in charge of the accounts and carry every donation we've received. The man on horseback is my master, but he only knows scripture and has no money or interest in wealth. The dark-faced young man joined us on the road and only looks after the horse. The long-snouted fellow is a hired porter. Let them pass and I'll give you all our money and belongings.” “This monk sounds honest,” the thieves said. “We'll spare him. Have the others leave the baggage and go.” Pilgrim gave his brothers a look. Sha Monk put down the load, and he and Bajie led Tripitaka's horse westward.

Pilgrim lowered his head as if opening the bags. He scooped up dust and scattered it with a spell. “Freeze!” All thirty or so robbers stood motionless with teeth clenched and eyes open, unable to speak. “Master, come back!” Pilgrim called. Bajie panicked. “He must have given us away! With no silver in his bag, he'll have to hand over the horse or our clothes.” Sha Monk laughed. “He has subdued powerful demons. Do you think these thieves can beat him? Let's see what he wants.” Tripitaka turned back. “What is it, Wukong?” “Ask these thieves yourselves,” Pilgrim said. Bajie pushed one. “Why aren't you moving?” He got no answer. “They've all turned mute and stupid!” “I froze them with a spell,” Pilgrim said. “Sit down, Master. Better to hold a suspect than let a guilty man go. Brothers, bind them and ask whether they're beginners or experienced thieves.” “We have no rope,” Sha Monk said. Pilgrim pulled out some hairs and changed them into thirty ropes. They tipped the men over and tied their hands and feet together, then released the spell. The robbers gradually came to their senses.

With Tripitaka seated before them, the three disciples stood holding their weapons. “Thieves, how many are you? How many years have you been robbing, how much have you taken, and have you killed anyone? Is this your first crime or have you done it before?” “Spare us, masters!” they cried. Pilgrim demanded the truth. “We aren't experienced robbers. We come from respectable families, but spent our inheritances on wine, gambling, and prostitutes. With nothing left, we learned that Lord Kou in Tongtai was wealthy. Last night we joined together and robbed him in the rain. We were dividing the gold, silver, and clothes in a hollow north of the road when we saw you. Someone recognized you as Kou's guests. Your baggage looked heavy, and your white horse was valuable, so we tried to rob you too. We didn't know you had such powers. Take what we stole, but please spare our lives.”

Tripitaka was shocked. “Kou is a good man. How could such a thing happen to him?” Pilgrim replied, “The flags and music of our grand farewell drew attention to his wealth. At least we can get back his property.” Tripitaka said, “He hosted us for half a month. Let's return these goods to thank him.” Pilgrim agreed. He and his brothers collected the stolen goods from the hollow. They loaded some onto the horse; Bajie carried a load of silver and gold, while Sha Monk took their own baggage. Pilgrim wanted to kill all the robbers with his staff, but feared Tripitaka would object. He shook himself, and his hairs returned to his body. The freed thieves ran away. The four headed back to return Kou's property, like moths flying into a flame. A poem explains:

Few people repay kindness with kindness; some answer kindness with hate.Even rescuing someone from water can go wrong; think carefully before acting and you can avoid regret.

As they carried the goods back, armed men approached. “Disciples, what does that crowd of soldiers want?” Tripitaka asked in alarm. Bajie said, “The robbers we freed must have gathered reinforcements!” “Those aren't thieves,” Sha Monk said. Pilgrim whispered, “Master's next misfortune has arrived. They're officers hunting robbers.” They surrounded the four. “So you're the monks who robbed someone, walking openly with the goods!” They dragged Tripitaka from the horse and bound him, then bound all three disciples. They put carrying poles through the ropes, two men to each prisoner, and marched them and the horse and baggage back to the city:

Tripitaka trembled and wept, unable to explain; Bajie grumbled and blamed his master. Sha Monk muttered, uncertain what to do; Pilgrim Sun smiled, ready to use his powers.

The officers brought them to the prefect. “Sir, we've caught the robbers.” The prefect rewarded the men, inspected the stolen property, and ordered it returned to the Kou family. Then he brought the monks forward. “You claim to have come from Tang to worship the Buddha, but you were studying Kou's house so you could rob it!” “Sir,” Tripitaka said, “we aren't robbers. You can check our travel documents. Kou hosted us for half a month. We met the robbers, took back what they stole, and were returning it to repay his kindness when your men arrested us. Please investigate.” The prefect said, “That's a clever excuse now that you've been caught. If you caught the robbers, why didn't you bring them here too? Kou Liang named you in his complaint. How do you answer that?” Tripitaka was terrified. “Wukong, explain it to him!” “The goods are here,” Pilgrim said. “What good would an explanation do?” “Exactly,” the prefect said. “The evidence is before us!” He ordered a cord tightened around Tripitaka's head before further beating. Pilgrim thought, “Master is fated to suffer this trouble, but I shouldn't let it get too painful.” He spoke up. “Don't hurt that monk. I held the torch, carried the knife, stole the goods, and killed the man. I led the robbery. Beat me and leave them alone.” The prefect had the officers put the head cord on Pilgrim instead. They pulled it tight, and it snapped. Three or four times they tried new cords. None left even a mark on his scalp.

As they prepared another rope, a messenger announced, “Lord Chen, the imperial adviser, has arrived from the capital. Please go to meet him outside the city.” The prefect ordered the prisoners held until he could question them after seeing his superior. The four were taken to jail with their baggage. “What's happening to us?” Tripitaka asked. Pilgrim laughed. “Go on in, Master. At least there aren't dogs barking inside.” They were forced into restraint beds, bound tightly around their stomachs, heads, and chests, and beaten by the guards. “What can we do?” Tripitaka cried in pain. “They want money,” Pilgrim answered. “A comfortable place takes care of you; in a hard place, money does. Pay them and they'll stop.” “What money do I have?” “Give them your robe if you have nothing else.” The thought hurt Tripitaka deeply, but under the blows he said, “Do as you must.”

“Stop beating us,” Pilgrim told the guards. “In our bags there's an embroidered robe worth a thousand gold pieces. Open them and take it.” The guards eagerly searched both bags. They found plain clothes and the travel-document pouch, then a bundle wrapped in layers of oiled paper, shining brightly. They opened it:

Fine pearls were sewn into it with rare Buddhist jewels.Embroidered dragons covered its surface, with phoenixes along the brocade edges.

The guards crowded to see it, attracting the prison supervisor. “What's all this noise?” They explained, “Four monks accused of robbery came in. After a few blows they gave us their bags. We found this. We don't want to tear it apart, but we can't all have it. Decide how we should divide it.” The supervisor examined the robe, the other clothes, and the documents in the pouch. Seeing the seals of many kingdoms, he said, “Good thing I came. You would have caused real trouble. These monks aren't robbers. Don't touch their property. The prefect will investigate tomorrow.” The guards repacked the belongings and gave them to the supervisor to keep safe.

Night fell. Drums sounded from the tower, and patrols passed outside. Near the end of the fourth watch, Pilgrim found everyone asleep. He thought, “Master was fated to spend one night in prison. That's why I didn't explain or use my powers. That night is nearly over; I'll arrange our release before morning.” He shrank and slipped out of his restraints, changed into a small flying insect, and escaped through a crack in the roof tiles. Moon and stars shone in a clear, quiet sky. He flew to the Kou house and noticed a light at a house farther west. It belonged to tofu makers, an elderly man tending the fire and his wife pressing the curds. The man said, “Kou had sons and money, but not a long life. We studied together as children, and I'm five years older. His father, Kou Ming, didn't even own a thousand acres. His rents and loans brought little money. When Kou Hong was twenty, his father died and left him the household. Then his luck changed. He married Zhang Wang's daughter, nicknamed Needle-Threader. She brought him prosperity. His fields yielded crops, loans earned interest, and his purchases and business made money. His property grew to a hundred thousand. At forty he became devout and vowed to feed ten thousand monks. Last night robbers kicked him to death. Poor man, he was only sixty-four and ready to enjoy life. Even his goodness didn't protect him. What a pity!”

Pilgrim listened, then flew into Kou's home at the start of the fifth watch. A coffin stood in the hall, with a lamp burning at its head and offerings of incense, candles, flowers, and fruit. Kou's wife wept nearby. His sons came to bow and mourn, while their wives brought bowls of food as offerings. Pilgrim settled on the coffin and coughed. The daughters-in-law fled in fright. The sons fell to the ground, crying, “Father!” The wife was braver. She patted the coffin. “Have you come back to life?” In Kou's voice, Pilgrim said, “No.” The sons bowed and wept harder. She asked how he could speak if he had not returned. “King Yama sent a ghost to bring me here to tell you something. Zhang's daughter Needle-Threader lied and brought harm on innocent people.” Frightened that the voice knew her childhood nickname, Kou's wife knelt. “What lies did I tell?” “You said Tripitaka held the torch, Bajie shouted to kill, Sha Monk stole our money, and Pilgrim Sun killed me. Four good monks are suffering because of your lies. They caught the actual thieves on the road and were kindly bringing our goods home. You invented an accusation, and the prefect jailed them without investigating. The prison gods, the earth god, and the city god have all reported it to Yama, who sent me to tell you to free them at once. Otherwise I'll disturb this house for a month until no person, chicken, or dog in it survives.” The sons bowed. “Father, please go back and spare our family. At dawn we'll withdraw the complaint and ask for the monks' release.” “Burn paper money for me, then I'll go,” Pilgrim said. The whole family came to make the offering.

Pilgrim flew to the prefect's residence. Lights were on, and the man was washing and dressing. On the central wall hung a picture of an official on a spotted horse, followed by attendants with a green umbrella and a folding chair. Pilgrim landed on it and coughed. The prefect hurried away, then returned dressed and burned incense before the picture. “Spirit of my uncle Jiang Gonggan,” he prayed, “I, your nephew Jiang Kunsan, passed my examinations thanks to our family's good fortune and serve as prefect of Tongtai. I burn incense for you every day. Why did you make a noise this morning? Please don't frighten the household.” Pilgrim realized it was the prefect's uncle and imitated his voice. “My nephew Kunsan, you've usually been an honest official. Why did you jail four holy monks as thieves yesterday without investigating? The prison gods, earth god, and city god reported it to Yama, who sent me to tell you to examine the facts and release them. Otherwise you'll answer for this in the underworld.” Frightened, the prefect promised to free them as soon as court opened. “Burn paper money, then,” Pilgrim answered. “I must report back to Yama.” The prefect offered incense and burned paper money.

By the time Pilgrim reached Diling County, dawn was breaking and the officials were already in court. Thinking that a talking insect would give him away if anyone saw him, he grew into a huge divine form. He stretched a foot down from the sky until it filled the county court. “Officials, listen! The Jade Emperor sent me as a wandering god. You have jailed innocent disciples of the Buddha seeking scriptures and disturbed the spirits of three worlds. Release them at once, or I'll come back and kick every official to death and trample this city and its people to ashes.” Every county official knelt and bowed. “Holy one, please go! We'll inform the prefect and release them. Don't move that foot and frighten us to death!” Pilgrim shrank into an insect again, flew through the prison roof, and returned to his restraint bed to sleep.

At court, the prefect had just invited petitions when Kou Liang and Kou Dong arrived with a written withdrawal. “Yesterday you accused these monks, and your goods were recovered. Why withdraw the charge now?” he asked angrily. Weeping, they told him of their father's spirit's visit. He had said the monks had caught the thieves and were returning the stolen goods, and that the gods and Yama wanted them freed lest disaster befall the family. The prefect thought, “Their father only just died, so perhaps his ghost could appear. But my uncle died five or six years ago, and he came to warn me too. They must be innocent.”

The county magistrate and his officers rushed into the hall. “A wandering god sent by the Jade Emperor just told us to free those monks you arrested yesterday. They're holy seekers of scriptures, not robbers. If you delay, he says he'll kill all us officials and trample the city and its people to ashes!” The startled prefect ordered the prisoners brought out immediately. “I wonder how they'll beat us today,” Bajie said. Pilgrim smiled. “Not one blow. I've arranged everything. Don't kneel in court. They'll ask us to take seats. I'll demand our baggage and horse, and if anything is missing, I'll punish them.”

The prefect, magistrate, and other officials came down to meet them. “We were busy greeting a visiting superior yesterday,” the prefect apologized. “And with the stolen goods in your possession, I failed to investigate.” Tripitaka bowed and explained the whole matter again. “Our mistake,” the officials said. “Please forgive us.” They asked whether anything had happened in prison. Pilgrim glared. “Someone here took my white horse, and someone in the jail took our baggage. Return them at once! What punishment do you deserve for arresting innocent men as thieves?” The frightened officials brought the horse and goods back intact. Tripitaka calmed his disciples. “We still don't know why they accused us. Let's go to Kou's home, pay our respects, and ask who claims to have seen us stealing.” “Right,” said Pilgrim. “I'll bring the dead man back to tell us who killed him.”

Sha Monk helped Tripitaka onto the horse, and they went noisily to the Kou house, followed by the prefect and county officials. Kou's sons bowed repeatedly at the gate. Inside, the family wept behind the funeral curtains. Pilgrim called, “Stop weeping, you woman who lied about innocent people. I'll bring your husband back to say who killed him. Then you'll be ashamed.” The officials thought he was joking. “Sit with Master a moment,” he told them. “Bajie and Sha Monk, guard him. I'll be right back.” The Great Sage went outside and rose into the sky. Colored light covered the house, and blessed clouds guarded his spirit. Now everyone understood that he truly was an immortal who could fly and bring the dead back to life. They burned incense and bowed.

On his somersault cloud, the Great Sage went straight to the underworld and into Yama's hall. At his arrival:

The ten kings of the underworld greeted him with joined hands, and judges from five directions bowed. The thousand sword trees bent aside, and the countless mountains of blades became level. Ghosts in the City of the Wrongfully Dead were transformed, and spirits beneath the Bridge over the Nai River passed to a better life. His divine light shone like a pardon from heaven, brightening every corner of the dark underworld.

The ten kings asked why he had come. “Where is the spirit of Kou Hong, who fed monks in Diling County of Tongtai? Find him for me.” “We didn't send anyone to fetch that good man. He came himself and met the golden-robed attendant of Kshitigarbha, who took him to the bodhisattva.” Pilgrim went to Kshitigarbha at the Palace of Emerald Clouds and explained. The bodhisattva said, “Kou Hong's life was fated to end quickly without a long illness. Because he fed monks, I appointed him keeper of the register of good deeds. Since you've come for him, I'll extend his earthly life by one twelve-year cycle. He can go back with you.” The attendant brought Kou out. “Teacher, save me!” Kou cried. Pilgrim said, “Robbers kicked you to death. This is Kshitigarbha's place in the underworld. I've come to bring you back to explain what happened. The bodhisattva has given you twelve more years of life. Return then.” Kou bowed repeatedly in thanks.

Pilgrim thanked the bodhisattva, blew Kou's spirit into a breath of air, tucked it into his sleeve, and flew back to the living world. At the house he told Bajie to open the coffin. He restored Kou's spirit to his body, and soon the man breathed and climbed out. Bowing to the four monks, Kou said, “I died violently, and you brought me back from the underworld. I owe you my life.” Seeing the officials, he bowed again and asked why they were there. The prefect explained the accusation, the recovery of the property, the arrest, the visits from Kou's ghost and his own uncle, the wandering god's warning, and the monks' rescue of Kou. Kou said, “These four were falsely accused. More than thirty robbers came at night with weapons and torches. I begged them not to take everything, and one kicked me to death. The monks had nothing to do with it!” He called his wife and sons. “Who dared accuse them when you didn't know who killed me? Punish them, sir.” The whole family knelt and bowed, but the prefect pardoned them. Kou prepared a banquet to thank the officials; they returned to their offices without eating. The next day he hung up his sign welcoming monks again and asked the four to stay. Tripitaka refused. Kou invited his relatives, brought out banners and music, and saw them off as before. Truly:

Evil deeds may happen across the wide earth, but heaven still rewards good hearts.They walk freely toward the Tathagata; only Vulture Peak's gate to happiness remains.

What would happen when they met the Buddha? Listen to the next chapter to find out.