Monkey (18 page)

So the messenger took the souls of Liu and his wife to the frontiers of the World of Death; and if you do not know the manner of their return to life, you must listen to what is told in the next chapter.

T
HE
gale of dark wind that blew through the gates of Death when they were opened, carried Liu, his wife, and the demon that escorted them, all the way to the city of Ch’ang-an. Liu’s soul was blown straight to the Imperial Stores; but Blue Lotus’s soul was carried to the inner gardens. It happened that at this time the princess Jade Bud was walking slowly on the green moss under the blossoming trees. The demon-escort gave her a shove, and she fell on to the ground. Whereupon he filched her soul and inserted Blue Lotus’s in its place. Then he vanished to the Realms of Death.

The princess’s attendants, seeing her lying as though dead, rushed into the Palace of Golden Bells, crying ‘Our lady the princess has fallen down dead!’ The Empress in turn rushed in consternation to the Emperor, who nodded and sighed, saying ‘This does not surprise me. When I asked the Judges of Death about the prospects of my family, they told me that my sister had not long to live.’ When they all went to the spot where the princess had fallen, they found that she was still breathing faintly. ‘Raise no cry!’ commanded the Emperor. ‘We must not disturb her.’ He then supported the princess’s head with his hand and after a moment announced, ‘She is coming to.’

The princess now suddenly rolled over and cried, ‘Wait for me, husband! I can’t keep pace with you.’

‘Sister,’ said the Emperor,’ we are all here.’

She raised her head and stared at him. ‘Who are you,’ she cried,’ and how dare you lay hands upon me ?’

‘I am your royal brother, royal sister,’ he said.

‘I haven’t got any royal brother,’ she cried, ‘and I am not any one’s royal sister, either. I am Blue Lotus, and my husband is Iiu Ch’iian. We are both from the city of Chun-chou. Three months ago I had words with my husband and hanged myself from the house-beam with my sash. My husband followed me to death, bringing some melons as a
present to the Judges of the Dead. Yama took pity on us and sent us back to life. He went on ahead, and hurrying after him I tripped and fell. But that’s no reason why you should mishandle me. Here you are, mauling me about, and you didn’t even know my name!’

‘I can’t make head or tail of this,’ said the Emperor. ‘Evidently she has hurt herself and is delirious.’ He ordered the Court physician to bring medicines, and help the princess back to her apartments.

Presently it was announced that the melon-bearer had returned, and Liu Ch’iian was shown in, and gave a full report on his mission. ‘But what has become of my wife,’ he wound up, ‘I have no idea.’

‘Did Yama say anything in particular to her?’ asked the Emperor.

‘He said nothing,’ replied Liu, ‘but I heard a demon officer say that her body would be no good, as she had been dead too long, and Yama said, “The princess Jade Bud is due to die; you had better take her body and put Blue Lotus’s soul into it.” I don’t know where this princess is to be found. If I did, I should go and call upon her.’

‘Why, that explains everything!’ said the Emperor. ‘You remember how the princess said, “Husband, wait for me,” and so on. All is now dear.’

‘Let us send for the princess herself,’ suggested Wei Cheng, ‘and see what she has to say.’

The ladies who went to fetch the princess found her in her rooms, shouting, ‘What are you trying to dose me for? This isn’t my home. I live in a decent tiled house, not in a sickly yellow place like this, that looks as if it had got the jaundice. Let me out, let me out!’

A number of ladies-in-waiting and eunuchs caught hold of her and carried her, still shouting and protesting, into the Emperor’s presence.

‘Would you recognize your husband ?’ he asked.

‘What a question!’ she exclaimed. ‘We were pledged to one another when we were children, and I have had children by him. How could I fail to know him ?’

Liu Ch’iian was then sent for, and she rushed at him saying,
‘Why ever did you go on ahead like that, and not wait for me? I stumbled and fell down. When I came to, I found all these people gathered round me. I’d like to know what it all means.’ Liu did not know what to do. The voice was certainly that of his wife; but her appearance was entirely different. The kindly Emperor stepped in, ordering that all the princess’s toilet boxes, dresses, combs and what-not should be handed over to Liu Ch’iian, exactly as though he had been giving him his sister in marriage. He also granted Liu permanent exemption from forced labour, and sent the pair back to Chvin-chou.

Meanwhile the minister Wei-ch’ih went to Kai-f£ng with a store of silver and gold, to pay back the money lent by Hsiang Liang. Now Hsiang Liang was a water-carrier, and his wife made a living by selling pottery. They only spent on themselves what was necessary to keep them alive; all the rest they gave to priests, or spent on paper cash which they dedicated and burned. Consequently, though in this world they ranked as pious people, but very poor, in the world below they gradually accumulated a very considerable fortune. When Wei-ch’ih came to their door, laden with silver and gold, their astonishment knew no bounds, accompanied as he was by a numerous following of horsemen and coaches. They were reduced to speechless consternation, and throwing themselves on to their knees they bowed low and long.

‘Rise!’ cried Wei-ch’ih, ‘I have merely come to repay the money that you were good enough to lend to his Majesty the Emperor.’

‘We have never lent money to anyone,’ they stammered, ‘and cannot possibly accept what does not belong to us.’

‘I am aware,’ said he, ‘that you are poor people. But owing to your constant alms and dedication of paper cash to the spirits of the world below, you have great sums to your credit in that world. Recently when the Emperor spent three days in the realms of Death, he had occasion to borrow heavily from your account there, and now I have come to repay the debt.’

‘It is true,’ they said, ‘that we have something to our account in that world. But what proof have we that his Majesty borrowed from us there? We could not dream of accepting.’

‘The loan,’ said Wei-ch’ih, ‘was authorized by Ts’ui Chio, one of the assessors there, and he could bear testimony.’

“That’s as may be,’ they said, ‘but nothing will induce us to accept.’

Finding that they were obdurate, Wei-ch’ih sent a report to the Emperor, who remarked on reading it, ‘Such virtue is indeed rare among the richl’ And he issued a rescript, that with the money a temple was to be built, and a shrine at the side of it, dedicated to the Hsiangs. A site was found on ground not required either by the people or the military authorities, to the extent of fifty acres, and when the building was finished it was called the Hsiang Kuo National Temple, and a great inscription gave an account of its inauguration and the fact that the building of it had been superintended by Wei-ch’ih. This is the Great Hsiang Kuo Temple that still stands today.

The next thing to think about was the General Mass for the Dead that the Emperor had promised to celebrate. Priests of particular learning and piety were collected from all over China, and asked to sit in solemn congregation, and select from among their number one whose outstanding holiness fitted him to take charge of the ceremonies. The choice fell upon the priest Hsiian Tsang, who was brought before the Emperor and presented by the minister Hsiao Yii and the rest, who said, ‘We have carried out the august commands, and this is the holy man on whom the choice has fallen. He is called Hsiian Tsang.’ After reflecting for a while, the Emperor said, ‘The choice is a good one. I have heard of this priest, and it is certain that he is a man of high virtue and great powers of concentration.’ And turning to Hsiian Tsang he said, ‘I bestow upon you the rank of Supreme Controller of all priests and all matters of religion throughout the land.’ And in addition he gave him a cassock of brocade and a golden skull-cap, bidding him use his best endeavours. Then he sent him back to his own temple to choose a lucky day for
the great ceremony. Hsiian Tsang, when the necessary seats and benches had been made and the music provided, selected one thousand two hundred worthy priests to take part in the ceremony. The third day of the ninth month was found by the astrologers to be favourable, and on that day began the Great Mass that was to last for forty-nine days, and was attended by the Emperor and his family, the Court and all the ministers civil and military.

Meanwhile the Bodhisattva Kuan-yin had been looking everywhere in Ch’ang-an for a priest to fetch the scriptures from India. Hearing that the Emperor T’ai Tsung was celebrating a great Mass, and that the ceremony was being directed by that River Float with whose birth she had herself been connected, ‘Who,’ she asked herself, ‘could be better fitted for that mission than he?’ And she set out into the streets, taking with her Moksha, and the treasures that Buddha had given to her. ‘What were these treasures ?’ you ask. They were a magic brocaded cassock, and a priest’s staff with nine rings. Apart from these, there were the three magic fillets which she left in safe keeping for future use, only taking with her the cassock and staff. Wandering about the streets of Ch’ang-an was a stupid priest who had failed to be chosen to take part in the Mass. Seeing the Bodhisattva, disguised as a shabby priest, barefoot and in rags, holding up this shining cassock as though for sale, he remembered that he still had a few strings of cash upon him, and coming forward he said, ‘What would you take for the cassock ?’

‘The cassock,’ said Kuan-yin, ‘is worth five thousand pounds; the staff, two thousand.’

‘Seven thousand pounds for a couple of coarse, low-class articles like that! You must be mad,’ he said. ‘Why, if it were guaranteed that the user of them would be immortal, or that he would become a living Buddha, they wouldn’t fetch that price. Be off with you 11 don’t want them.’

The Bodhisattva said not a word more, but signing to Moksha went on her way. They had not gone far before they reached the Eastern Flower Gate, where whom should they meet but the minister Hsiao Yii, just returning from Court. His outriders were clearing the streets, but Kuan-yin, so far
from removing herself, stood right in the minister’s path, holding up the cassock. He reined in his horse, and seeing this dazzling object held up in front of him, he told a servant to ask the price.

‘Five thousand pounds for the cassock and two thousand for the staff’ said Kuan-yin.

‘What makes them so expensive ?’ asked Hsiao.

“The cassock,’ said Kuan-yin, ‘would be valuable to some people and quite the reverse to others; it would cost some people a lot of money, and others none at all.’

‘What does that mean ?’ asked Hsiao.

‘The wearer of my cassock,’ said Kuan-yin, ‘will not be drowned or poisoned or meet wild beasts upon his way. But that is only if he is a good man; if it gets on to the back of a gluttonous, lustful priest, or one who does not keep his vows, or of a layman who destroys scriptures and speaks evil of Buddha, he will rue the day that he saw this cassock.’

‘And what do you mean,’ asked Hsiao, ‘by saying that it would cost some people a lot of money and others none at all?’

‘To a purchaser who does not reverence Buddha’s Law and Three Treasures, the price of the cassock and staff together would be seven thousand pounds,’ said Kuan-yin. ‘But a pious and reverent man, devoted to our Buddha, could have them both for the asking.’

Hearing this, Hsiao dismounted, and bowing respectfully, ‘Reverend Sir,’ he said, ‘the Emperor of this great land is himself a most devout man, and all his ministers vie with one another in carrying out his behests. At present he is celebrating a Great Mass, and this cassock might well be worn by the high priest Hsiian Tsang, who is in charge of the whole ceremony. Let us go to the palace and speak to the Emperor about this.’

The Emperor was delighted at this proposal, and at once told Hsiian Tsang to put on the cassock and hold the staff in his hand. Then he appointed a retinue to accompany him, and had him led through the city in triumph, for all the world like a successful candidate at the examinations. In the great city of Ch’ang-an travelling merchants and tradesmen,
princes and nobles, writers and scholars, grown men and young girls all fought with one another for good places from which to view the procession. ‘A noble priest! A Lohan come to earth, a living Bodhisattva!’ they cried in admiration when they saw Hsiian Tsang pass. And the priests in his temple when he returned, seeing him thus accoutred, could scarcely believe that it was not the Bodhisattva Kshitigarbha himself who had come to visit them.

Time passed, and now at last came the final ceremonies of the forty-ninth day, at which Hsiian Tsang was to deliver the closing sermon. ‘The Great Mass closes today,’ said Kuan-yin to Moksha. ‘Let us mingle in the throng, so that we may see how the ceremonies are conducted and what blessing there is in our gift, and hear what school of Buddhism he preaches.’ The great Hsiian Tsang, mounted on a high dais, first read the Sutra on the Salvation of the Dead, then discussed the Collect upon the Security of kingdoms, and finally expounded the Exhortation to Pious Works. At this point Kuan-yin approached the dais, and cried in a loud voice, ‘Why can’t you give us some Big Vehicle Scriptures ?’

So far from being put out by this interruption, Hsiian Tsang was delighted to hear of other scriptures, and scrambling down from the dais he saluted his interrupter and said, ‘Reverend Sir, forgive me for not knowing that I had one so learned as you in my audience. It is true that we have none of us any knowledge of the Big Vehicle, and have only expounded the Little Vehicle.’