The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2 (73 page)

Shedding copious tears, the two old men said, “Venerable Father! You aren’t aware of the fact that the Great King is truly so powerful that he knows everything. Why, he even comes frequently to the families here.” Pilgrim said, “When he came through, did you ever discover how he looked or how tall he was?” “We have never seen his form,” said the two old men. “But whenever we felt a fragrant breeze, it was a sign that the Father Great King had arrived. Then we had to burn hurriedly lots of incense and all of us, young and old, had to bow toward the wind. He knows everything there is to know of our families here; he can remember even the birth dates and hours of young and old. He will not consider it a treat unless he can devour children who are truly ours. Don’t speak of two or three hundred ounces of silver; even if we were to spend several thousand ounces, we had nowhere to purchase a boy or a girl of exactly the same appearance and age.”

“So, that’s how it is!” said Pilgrim. “All right, all right! Bring out your son and let me take a look at him.” Chen Qing went inside at once and carried his son Guanbao out to the front hall, placing him before the lamps. The child, of course, was wholly unaware of the disaster that was about to descend on him. With two sleeves stuffed with preserved fruits and candies, he danced about as he munched on the goodies. On seeing him, Pilgrim recited a spell silently and shook his body: at once he changed into a boy with the exact appearance of that child Guanbao. Now there were two boys holding hands and dancing before the lamps! The old man was so startled that he fell on his knees, causing the Tang Monk to cry out, “Venerable Father, this is blasphemy! Blasphemy!” The old man said, “But this Venerable Father was just speaking to us. How did he manage to take on the appearance of my child all at once? Look, you give them a call, and both of them answer
together!
We are the ones who are not worthy! Please show your true form! Please show your true form!” With a wipe of his own face Pilgrim changed back into his true form. Remaining on his knees, the old man said, “So the Venerable Father has this kind of ability!” “Did I look like your son?” asked Pilgrim, laughing. “Very much! Very much!” said the old man. “You had exactly the same features, the same voice, the same clothes, and the same height!” “You haven’t even examined me closely,” said Pilgrim. “Bring out the scale and see if I’m of the same weight as his.” “Yes! Yes! Yes!” said the old man. “I could tell that you were exactly of the same weight.” “You think I could serve as the sacrifice?” asked Pilgrim. “It’s marvelous! Just marvelous!” said the old man. “Of course, you could serve as the sacrifice.”

Pilgrim said, “I’ll exchange my life for your boy’s so that your family’s posterity will be preserved. I’ll present myself as a sacrifice to that Great King.” Kowtowing as he knelt on the ground, Chen Qing said, “If in your compassion you are willing to present yourself as a substitute, I shall present Father Tang with a thousand ounces of white silver as his travel expenses to the Western Heaven.” “And you are not going to thank old Monkey?” said Pilgrim. “If you are a sacrificial substitute,” said the old man, “you will be finished.” “What do you mean finished?” said Pilgrim. “The Great King will devour you,” said the old man, and Pilgrim said, “Does he dare?” “If he doesn’t eat you,” said the old man, “it will only be because you are too smelly for his taste.” “May Heaven’s will be done!” said Pilgrim, chuckling. “If he eats me, it’ll mean that I am to die young; if he does not, it’s my luck. Anyway, I shall be your sacrificial substitute.”

Chen Qing not only kowtowed to thank him, but also promised to give the monks an additional five hundred ounces of silver. Chen Cheng, however, neither kowtowed nor gave thanks; leaning on one of the screens, he wept profusely. Understanding his plight, Pilgrim went up to tug at him and said, “Number One, you are not promising me anything nor are you thanking me. I suppose you must feel terrible about parting with your daughter?” Going to his knees at once, Chen Cheng said, “No, I can’t part with her. I am indebted to you, Venerable Father, for your kindness, and it should be enough that you have saved our nephew. But this old moron has no other children except his daughter. If I should die, she would weep bitterly, too! How could I ever part with her?” “Then go quickly and steam five more barrels of rice,” said Pilgrim. “Prepare some fine vegetarian dishes also and let that long-snout master of ours enjoy himself. Then we can ask him to change into the form of your daughter, and we two brothers will be your sacrificial substitutes. By saving the lives of your daughter and son, we shall accrue to ourselves secret merit. How about that?”

Horrified by what he heard, Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, you can show off your energy as you please! But don’t drag me into this venture
without
any regard for my life!” “Worthy Brother,” said Pilgrim, “the proverb says, ‘Even chickens can eat only food they work for!’ The moment we entered their house, they feted us with a huge banquet, while you were complaining that you were only half-filled! How could you be unwilling to assist them in their difficulties?” “O Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “I don’t know anything about transformation.” “What do you mean?” said Pilgrim. “You know thirty-six modes of transformation.” “Wuneng,” cried Tripitaka, “what your elder brother has just said is certainly right, and what he has proposed is most appropriate. The proverb says, ‘The saving of one life is better than the construction of a seven-tiered pagoda.’ In the first place, we should repay their great kindness to us; in the second, we should make merit whenever possible by the performance of good works. Since there is no other thing you must attend to in this cool night, you and your brother can go and have some fun.” “Look at the way Master talks!” said Eight Rules. “I may know how to change into a mountain, a tree, a rock, a scabby elephant, a water buffalo, or a stout fellow. But it’ll be rather difficult for me to change into a small young girl!” “Don’t believe him, Number One,” said Pilgrim. “Bring out your precious daughter.” Chen Cheng dashed inside and brought out his child, One Load of Gold. At the same time, his whole family, including his wife and his concubine, young and old, all came out to the front hall to kneel before the monks and kowtow, begging them to save the girl’s life.

The girl was wearing on her head a patterned emerald fillet with dangling pearl and precious stone pendants; she had on a coat of red silk shot with yellow, covered by a cape of mandarin green satin with chess-board patterned collar. Around her waist was tied a silk skirt with bright red flowers. She also had on a pair of gold-kneed trousers and a pair of light pink toad’s-head patterned shoes made of hemp thread. And she, too, was munching on some fruits. “Eight Rules,” said Pilgrim, “that’s the girl. Change into her form quickly, so that we can be sacrificed.” “O Brother!” said Eight Rules. “She’s so delicate and lovely! How could I do it?” “Quick!” said Pilgrim. “Don’t ask for a beating!” Alarmed, Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, don’t beat me! Let me try and see what happens!”

This Idiot recited a spell and shook his head several times, crying, “Change!” Indeed, his head took on the features of the little girl, but his belly remained as big as ever so that his hulking frame bore hardly any resemblance to the girl’s. “Change some more!” cried Pilgrim, laughing. “You can beat me all you want,” said Eight Rules, “but I can’t change anymore. What am I to do?” “You can’t take on the head of a girl,” said Pilgrim, “and the body of a priest! You would be neither boy nor girl, and that wouldn’t be good, would it? Why don’t you assume the star posture and see what I can do for you?” He blew a mouthful of magic breath onto Eight Rules, whose
body
at once took on the form of the little girl. Then Pilgrim said to the two old men, “Please take your relatives, your son, and your daughter inside so that we will not be confused with them. I fear that after awhile, my brother may become slothful and sneak inside, and it will be difficult for you to tell them apart. Give your children plenty of nice fruits and candies and make certain that they don’t cry. I don’t want that Great King to get wind of our plans. We two will have some fun and be off.”

Dear Great Sage! He gave instructions for Sha Monk to stand guard over the Tang Monk, while he and Eight Rules assumed the exact forms of Chen Guanbao and One Load of Gold. After the two of them made all the preparations, Pilgrim asked, “How are we to be presented, trussed up or just bound? Steamed or chopped to pieces?” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “don’t pull any more tricks on me! I don’t have that kind of ability!” “No, No!” said one of the old men. “All we need are two red lacquered trays, on which we will ask both of you to sit. The trays will be placed on top of two tables, which will then be carried to the temple by some of our houseboys.” “Fine! Fine!” said Pilgrim. “Bring out the trays and let us try them.” The old man took out the lacquered trays; Pilgrim and Eight Rules sat in them, after which four houseboys lifted up two tables and walked into the courtyard. Delighted, Pilgrim said, “Eight Rules, a couple of turns like this and we shall be priests who have ascended the tray-platform!” “If they carry us inside,” said Eight Rules, “and carry us out again, I won’t be afraid even if they go back and forth until tomorrow morning. But once they take us into the temple, we’ll be devoured, and that’s no game!” “Just watch me,” said Pilgrim. “When he seizes me and tries to eat me, you can flee.” “But how would I know whom he will eat first?” asked Eight Rules. “If he eats the virgin boy first, I can flee, of course. But if he wants to eat the virgin girl first, what am I to do?” “During one of the sacrifices some years ago,” said the old man, “a few people courageous enough hid themselves behind the temple or beneath the offering tables. They saw that he ate the boy first before he devoured the girl.” Eight Rules said, “That’s my luck! That’s my luck!” As the brothers were talking, a loud din of gongs and drums could be heard outside the house, now lit up also by the light of many torches and lamps. The people of the same village came to pound at the front gate, crying, “Bring out the virgin boy and the virgin girl!” As the old men wept and wailed, the four houseboys lifted the tables and carried the two of them away. We truly do not know what happened to their lives; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

FORTY-
EIGHT

The demon, raising a cold wind, sends a great snow fall;

The monk, intent on seeing Buddha, walks on layered ice.

We tell you now about those worshippers from the Chen Village, who carried Pilgrim and Eight Rules, along with various offerings of livestock, straight to the Temple of Numinous Power. The virgin boy and girl were placed on top of the offerings. Pilgrim turned his head and saw that there were incense, flowers, and candles on the offering tables, in the middle of which there was also a tablet inscribed in gold letters with the title: “God of the Great King of Numinous Power.” There was no other image of any deity. After the worshippers had set out everything properly, they knelt down and kowtowed toward the tablet, saying in unison, “Great King Father, in this year, this month, this day, and this hour, Chen Cheng, the one in charge of the sacrifice and the leader of all the faithfuls of the Chen Village, young and old, does follow our annual custom and offer to you a virgin boy by the name of Chen Guanbao and a virgin girl by the name of One Load of Gold. Hogs and sheep in the same number are presented to you also for your enjoyment. We pray that you will grant us rain and wind in due season and a rich harvest of the five grains.” After they made this invocation, they burned paper money and horses before returning to their houses.

When Eight Rules saw that the people had dispersed, he said to Pilgrim, “Let’s go home, too.” “Where’s your home?” asked Pilgrim. Eight Rules said, “I want to go back to old Chen’s house to sleep.” “Idiot,” said Pilgrim, “you are babbling again! If you have agreed to do this for him, you have got to finish the job.” “You call me an idiot,” said Eight Rules. “Aren’t you the real idiot? We were supposed to have some fun with the Chens and fool with them a bit. You can’t be serious that you want us sacrificed?” “If we help someone,” said Pilgrim, “we must help him to the end. We must wait until that Great King arrives and devours us before we can consider a perfect end to our efforts! If he has no sacrifice, he will send calamities to the village, and that will not be right.”

As he spoke, they heard the wind howl outside. “O dear!” said Eight Rules. “When the wind blows like that, it must mean that the thing is here!” “Shut up!” cried Pilgrim. “Let me do the talking!” In a moment, a fiend arrived at the door of the temple. Look at the way he appears:

    
Gold helmet and cuirass both bright and new;

    
A treasure sash like red clouds wrapped his waist.

    
His
eyes seemed big stars blazing in the night;

    
His teeth resembled those of a heavy saw.

    
Waves of mists did encircle both his legs,

    
And steamy fog surrounded all his frame.

    
He walked and a cold wind stirred repeatedly;

    
He stood and baleful aura rose in tiers.

    
He looked like the Curtain-Raising Captain

    
Or the great god of a monastery’s gate.

Standing right at the doorway, the fiend asked, “Which family this year is providing the sacrifice?” Laughing merrily, Pilgrim said, “Thank you for asking! Those in charge are Chen Cheng and Chen Qing.” Puzzled by this answer, the fiend thought to himself, “This virgin boy is not only bold, but also articulate. Usually the victims in the past could not even reply to the first question, and they would be frightened out of their wits at the second one. By the time I seized them with my hands, they would already be as good as dead. How is it that this virgin boy today can still respond so intelligently?” Not bold enough to seize his prey immediately, the fiend asked once more, “What are the names of the boy and the girl?” With a laugh, Pilgrim said, “The virgin boy is called Chen Guanbao, and the virgin girl is called One Load of Gold.” “This sacrifice,” said the fiend, “happens to be an annual custom. Now that you have been offered to me, I’m going to eat you.” “I dare not resist you,” said Pilgrim. “Please feel free to enjoy yourself.” When the fiendish creature heard this, he was even more reluctant to raise his hands. Standing there in the doorway, he shouted, “Don’t you dare be impudent! In years past I would eat the virgin boy first. But this year, I’m going to eat the virgin girl first.” “O Great King,” said Eight Rules, horrified, “please follow the old way! Don’t eat by breaking a usual custom!”