CHAPTER 98 

When the Ape and the Horse Are Tamed They Cast Off Their Husks; When All the Deeds Have Been Done Reality Is Seen

The story told how after coming back to life Mr. Kou once more arranged for parasols, banners, drummers, musicians, Buddhist monks, Taoist priests, his friends and his relations to see Sanzang off again. But instead of describing this we will tell of the Tang Priest and his three disciples taking the main road. The West was indeed a land of the Buddha, unlike anywhere else. They saw precious flowers, rare grasses, ancient cypresses and hoary pines. In all the places they passed through every family was pious and fed monks. Under every mountain people cultivated their conduct; in all the forests travelers recited sutras. Master and disciples took shelter each night and set out at dawn, till six or seven days later a mass of high buildings and splendid halls suddenly came into view. Truly they were:

Thrusting a hundred feet into the heavens,

Touching the Milky Way in the sky.

Lower your head and see the setting sun;

Put out your hand and pluck a shooting star.

The spacious windows enclose the cosmos;

The towering roofbeams join up with the clouds.

Yellow cranes bring letters as the autumn trees grow old;

Coloured phoenix epistles come in the fresh evening breeze.

These are sacred and precious palaces and gates,

Jeweled, intricate buildings and courtyards.

In the holy halls the Way is discussed;

Sutras are transmitted throughout the universe.

The flowers are beautiful as they turn towards the spring;

Green are the pine trees in the rain.

Purple fungus and immortals’ fruits ever flourish;

All beings respond as red phoenixes soar.

Sanzang raised his whip and pointed with it as he said, “What a fine place, Wukong.”

“Master,” said Xingzhe, “when you were in those delusive places where you saw false images of Buddhas you insisted on prostrating yourself in front of them. But today, when you’ve reached the real place where there is the true image of the Buddha, you won’t even dismount. What do you mean by it?” No sooner did he hear this than Sanzang sprang straight out of the saddle and went to the gateway.

A young lay brother who stood to one side of the monastery gateway called out, “You must be the people from the East who have come to fetch the scriptures.” The venerable elder quickly straightened his clothes and raised his head to look around. He saw that the boy was

Wearing clothes of golden brocade,

Waving a jade-handled whisk.

Wearing clothes of golden brocade

He feasted in pavilions by the Jasper Pool;

Waving a jade-handled whisk

He dusted the steps of the purple palaces.

At his side hung an immortal’s tablet;

And on his feet were sandals.

He was a true winged adept,

Elegant and remarkable.

Having won immortality he lived in a wonderful land,

Cultivating eternal life and escaping from worldly dust.

The holy priest did not recognize the stranger on Vulture Peak,

The Gold-crested Immortal of yesteryear.

The Great Sage Sun did, however, recognize him. “Master,” said Wukong, “this is the Great Gold-crested Immortal who lives at the Jade Truth Temple at the foot of Vulture Peak. He is here to greet us.” Only then did Sanzang realize who he was and step forward to salute him.

“You have finally arrived here this year,” replied the Great Immortal with a smile. “I was fooled by the Bodhisattva Guanyin. Ten years ago she went to the East at the Buddha’s command to find the pilgrim who would fetch the scriptures. She told me then he would be here within two or three years. I have been waiting for years on end with no news of you at all. I never thought that it would be this year before we met.”

Putting his hands together in front of his chest, Sanzang replied, “I am very grateful to you for your kindness, Great Immortal, very grateful.” Sanzang and his three disciples led the horse and carried the baggage with them into the Taoist temple, where they were introduced to all the Great Immortals there. Tea and a vegetarian meal were then ordered, and the Taoist boys were told to heat scented water for the holy monks to bathe in before climbing to the Buddha land. Indeed:

When achievements are complete it is right to bathe;

The fundamental nature has been trained into innate truth.

Many thousand troubles and today:

The nine prohibitions and triple surrender lead to renewal.

The monsters all done with, they climb to the Buddha land;

With disasters ended they see the Sramana.

Dirt and filth now washed away, they are wholly pure;

Returning to the fundamental, their bodies are imperishable.

By the time master and disciples had bathed the day was drawing to a close. They spent the night in the Jade Truth Temple.

The next morning the Tang Priest changed into his brocade cassock, put on his Vairocana mitre and grasped his monastic staff in his hand to climb the steps of the main hall and take his leave of the Great Immortal. “Yesterday you were in rags,” the Great Immortal said with a smile, “but today you are dressed in splendor. I can see from your appearance that you are indeed a son of the Buddha.” Sanzang then bowed in farewell.

“Wait a moment,” the Great Immortal said. “I will see you off.”

“There’s no need for you to see us off,” Wukong replied. “I know the way.”

“What you know,” said the Great Immortal, “is the way by cloud. The holy monk has never gone by cloud. He must go by the overland way.”

“You’re right,” replied Wukong. “Although I’ve been here several times I’ve always come and gone by cloud. I’ve never come here on foot. If there’s an overland route I’ll trouble you to see us along it. My master is very serious about worshipping the Buddha, so I’d be very grateful if you could hurry up about it.” The Great Immortal chuckled as he took the Tang Priest by hand and led the Incense to the gate of the Dharma. The way led not out by the temple’s front entrance but through the main hall and out through the back gate.

Pointing towards Vulture Peak, the Great Immortal said, “Holy monk, do you see the auspicious light of many colours and the richly textured aura in the sky? That is the summit of Vulture Peak, the holy territory of the Lord Buddha.” As soon as he saw it the Tang Priest bowed low.

“Master,” said Pilgrim Sun with a smile, “we haven’t got to the place for bowing yet. As the saying goes, ‘The mountain may be in view, but your horse will collapse before you get there.’ We’re still quite a long way from the place, so why start bowing now? If you bow all the way from here to the top, how ever many times will you have to hit your head on the ground?”

“Holy monk,” said the Great Immortal, “You, the Great Sage, Marshal Tian Peng, and the Curtain-raising General have now reached the blessed land and seen Vulture Peak. I am going back now.” Sanzang took his leave of the Great Immortal and continued on his way.

The Great Sage led the Tang Priest and the others slowly up Vulture Peak. Within a couple of miles they reached a river of mighty rolling waves some three miles wide. There was no sign of anyone anywhere around.

“Wukong,” said Sanzang with alarm, “we have come the wrong way. I wonder if the Great Immortal misdirected us. This river is so wide and the waves so big, and there are no boats to be seen. How are we to cross it?”

“He didn’t send us the wrong way,” replied Wukong with a smile. “Look over there. That’s a bridge, isn’t it? Once we’re over that we’ll have completed the true achievement.” When the venerable elder and the others went closer to look they saw a tablet beside it on which were written the words CLOUD-TOUCHING CROSSING. Now this bridge was only a single log. Indeed:

From afar it seemed to span the void like a beam of jade;

Seen closer, the bridge was but a withered spar crossing the water.

To bind a river and frame the sea is easier

Than walking along the trunk of a single tree.

The glow of a myriad rainbows spread out all around;

A thousand lengths of fine white silk stretched to the edge of the sky.

It was narrow, slippery and hard to cross,

Unless one was a god who could walk on coloured clouds.

“Wukong,” said Sanzang in fear and trembling, “no mortal man could cross that bridge. Let us look elsewhere to find the way.”

“But this is the way,” replied Wukong with a smile, “this is the way.”

“Nobody’s going to dare cross that even if it is the right way,” said Bajie with alarm. “The river’s so wide, and there are those terrible waves, and all there is is that narrow, slippery tree-trunk. We couldn’t take a single step.”

“You all stand there while I go on it to show you,” replied Wukong.

The splendid Great Sage strode forward and sprang on the single-trunk bridge. He quickly ran across to the other side, swaying as he went, and called out, “Come over, come over.” The Tang Priest waved in refusal, while Bajie and Friar Sand bit their fingers and said, “It’s much too hard.”

Wukong then ran back again from the far side and pulled at Bajie. “Come with me, you idiot,” he said, “come with me.”

“It’s too slippery, it’s too slippery,” said Bajie, lying down on the ground. “I could never cross it. Please spare me that and let me cross by wind and mist.”

Wukong held him down as he replied, “This is no place for you to be allowed to go riding wind and mist. You can only become a Buddha by crossing this bridge.”

“Brother,” said Bajie, “I’ll never make it. Honestly, I can’t walk across.”

As the two of them were pulling at each other and fighting, Friar Sand went over to talk them round. Only then did they let go of each other. Sanzang then looked round to see a man poling a boat towards them from downriver and shouting, “Ferry! Come aboard.”

“Stop fooling around, disciples,” said a delighted venerable elder. “There is a ferry-boat coming.” The other three sprang to their feet and all watched together as the boat drew closer. It was a bottomless craft.

Wukong had already spotted with the golden pupils in his fiery eyes that this was the Welcoming Lord Buddha, who is also known as Ratnadhvaja, the Royal Buddha of Brightness, but instead of giving this away he just kept calling, “Over here, punt, over here.”

A moment later the ferryman had punted his boat up to the bank and was again shouting, “Ferry! Come aboard!” Sanzang was once more alarmed at the sight. “Your boat has no bottom,” he said, “so how ever could you ferry anyone across?”

“This boat of mine,” the Buddha said,

“Has been famous since Chaos was first divided,

And been punted by me without any changes.

It is stable in wind and stable in waves,

Enjoying great peace with no start and no end.

Untouched by the six types of dust, it returns to the One,

Carries on calmly through all kinds of calamity.

Hard it is for a bottomless boat to cross the oceans,

But since ancient times it has ferried all creatures.”

The Great Sage Sun put his hands together in front of his chest and thanked him with the words, “I am grateful to you for your generosity in coming to welcome my master. Step aboard, Master. That boat of his may have no bottom, but it’s stable, and won’t capsize even in wind and waves.” The venerable elder was still very doubtful, but Wukong seized him by the arms and pushed him forward. Unable to keep on his feet, the master tumbled into the water, where the ferryman grabbed hold of him at once and stood him on the boat. The master shook his clothes and stamped his feet, complaining about Wukong, who led Friar Sand and Bajie to stand on board bringing the luggage and the horse with them.

Gently and strongly the Buddha pushed off, at which a corpse came floating downstream, to the horror of the venerable elder. “Don’t be frightened, Master,” said Wukong. “That’s you.”

“It’s you, it’s you,” said Bajie.

Friar Sand clapped his hands as he said, “It’s you, it’s you!”

The boatman gave a call, then also put in, too, “It’s you! Congratulations! Congratulations!” The three of them all joined in these congratulations as the ferryman punted the boat quickly and steadily over the immortal Cloud-touching Crossing. Sanzang turned around and sprang lightly ashore on the opposite bank. There is a poem about this that goes:

When the womb-born flesh and body of blood is cast aside,

The primal spirit finds kinship and love.

On this morning of actions completed and Buddhahood attained

The thirty-six kinds of dust from the past are washed away.

This was indeed what is meant by great wisdom, the boundless dharma of crossing to the other bank. When the four of them climbed the bank and looked back the bottomless boat had already disappeared, goodness knew where. Only when Pilgrim Sun explained that it had been the Welcoming Buddha did Sanzang find enlightenment. At once he turned round to thank his three disciples.

“Let’s not exchange thanks,” said Wukong. “We’ve helped each other. You saved us three, Master, and showed us the way to win merit so as to complete the true achievement. And we have protected you, Master, holding to the faith and helping you happily to cast off your mortal body. Master, look at the magnificent scenery ahead. Flowers, grasses, pines and bamboo, as well as phoenixes, cranes and deer. Compare it with those places where evil beings created illusions through transformation. Ask yourself which is beautiful and good, and which ugly and evil.” Sanzang was full of expressions of gratitude. All of them were now light of body and cheerful as they walked up Vulture Peak. Soon the ancient Thunder Monastery could be seen:

Its rooftops touched the heavens,

Its roots joined with the Sumeru range.

Amazing peaks spread out in serried rank;

Craggy rocks formed interlocking shapes.

Under the hanging scar were wonderful plants and flowers;

Beside the winding path grew magic mushrooms and orchids.

Immortal apes were picking the fruit of the peach trees,

Like gold amid burning flames;

White cranes perched in the branches of the pines

As if they were jade creatures amid smoke.

Coloured phoenixes in pairs,

Green phoenixes two by two.

The pairs of coloured phoenixes

Brought blessings on the world as they called to the sun;

The green phoenixes two by two

Danced in the wind, a rare and wonderful sight.

On the gleaming golden tiles were figures of mandarin ducks;

The brilliantly patterned bricks were set with agate.

To east and west

Were flowers of palaces and pearls of gateways;

To north and south

Were endless precious pavilions and high buildings.

The Devaraja Hall streamed with coloured light;

Purple flames rose before the Lokapalas Chamber.

Stupas stood out,

And fragrant were the blossoms of the udumbara tree.¹

Truly this was a place so fine it might have come from heaven,

Where the days seemed long under leisurely clouds.

Away from the mortal world, all fates came to an end;

All kalpas were complete within the Dharma hall.

As master and disciples walked freely and at their ease up to the summit of Vulture Peak lay people could be seen under the green pines, and pious men and women amid the jade-coloured cypresses. The venerable elder bowed to them politely, whereupon all the lay men and women, monks and nuns all hastened to put their hands together and say to him, “Do not bow to us, holy monk. Come back and talk with us when you have seen Sakyamuni.”

“It’s a bit early for that,” replied Wukong with a grin. “Let’s go and worship the boss.”

The venerable elder waved his arms and performed a ritual dance as he followed Wukong straight to the gates of the Thunder Monastery, where the Four Great Vajrapanis greeted them with the words, “Have you arrived now, holy monk?”

“Yes,” Sanzang replied with a bow, “Your disciple Xuanzang has arrived.” Having given this reply he was about to go in through the gateway.

“Please wait for a moment, holy monk,” the vajrapanis said. “Let us report before you come in.” The vajrapanis sent a report of the Tang Priest’s arrival to the Four Great Vajrapanis on the middle gates, who in turn reported it to the inner gates, inside which were divine monks making offerings.

As soon as they heard of the Tang Priest’s arrival they all hurried to the Mahavira Hall, where they announced to the Rulai Sakyamuni Buddha, “The holy monk from the Tang court has arrived at your noble monastery to fetch the scriptures.”

The Lord Buddha was very pleased. He called together the Eight Bodhisattvas, Four Vajrapanis, Five Hundred Arhats, Three Thousand Protectors, Eleven Heavenly Shiners and Eighteen Guardians, who drew themselves up in two lines and passed on the Buddha’s command summoning the Tang Priest to enter. Thus it was that the invitation was sent down from one level to the next: “Let the holy monk come in.” Observing the requirements of ritual, the Tang Priest went in through the gate with Wukong and Friar Sand, who were leading the horse and carrying the luggage. Indeed:

In the past he had struggled to fulfil his commission

After leaving the emperor at the steps of the throne.

At dawn he had climbed mountains in mist and in dew;

At dusk he had slept on rocks amid the clouds.

He had carried his stick across three thousand rivers,

And climbed up countless crags with his monastic staff.

His every thought had been set on the true achievement,

And today he was finally to see the Tathagata.

As the four of them arrived in front of the Mahavira Hall they all prostrated themselves and kowtowed to the Rulai, then to their left and right. After they had each completed three rounds of worship they then knelt before the Buddha to present their passport. When the Rulai had read it carefully he handed it back to Sanzang, who bowed his head low and reported, “Your disciple Xuanzang has made the long journey to your precious monastery at the command of the Great Tang emperor to beg for the true scriptures that will save all living beings. I implore the Lord Buddha in his goodness to grant them at once so that I may return to my country.”

The Rulai then opened his compassionate mouth and in the great mercy of his heart said to Sanzang, “Your Eastern Land is in the Southern Continent of Jambu. As the sky is lofty there, the soil deep, its products many, and the people multitudinous there is much covetous-ness, murder, debauchery, lying, deception and dishonesty. They do not follow the Buddhist teaching, do not turn towards good destinies, and do not honour the sun, moon and stars or value the five grains. They are not loyal, filial, righteous or kind. In the delusion of their hearts they mislead themselves, cheating on weights and measures, taking life and killing animals, thus creating such boundless evil karma and such a superabundance of sin and evil that they bring the catastrophe of hell on themselves. That is why they must fall forever into the dark underworld to suffer the torments of being hammered, smashed, ground and pounded, or are reborn as animals. Many of them take the shape of furry, horned creatures to pay back the debts they owe from earlier lives and feed others with their own flesh. It is for such reasons that some fall into the Avici Hell, from which they never emerge to be reborn. Although Confucius established the doctrine of benevolence, righteousness, correct behavior and wisdom, and although successive emperors have applied the penalties of imprisonment, exile strangulation and beheading, none of this affected those stupid, benighted, self-indulgent and unrestrained people. Why? I have Three Stores of scriptures that offer deliverance from suffering and release from disaster. Of these Three Stores one is the Store of Dharma that deals with Heaven; one is the Store of Sastras that deal with the Earth, and one is the Store of Sutras that can save ghosts. There are thirty-five scriptures altogether, in 15,144 scrolls. These are indeed the path to the truth, the gateway to goodness. They include everything about the astronomy, geography, personalities, birds beasts trees, flowers, objects of use and human affairs of the world’s four continents. Now that you have come from afar I would present them all to you to take away with you, but the people of your country are stupid and coarse. They are slanderers of the truth who cannot understand the mysteries of our teachings. Ananda, Kasyapa,” he called, “take the four of them to the foot of the jewel tower and give them a vegetarian meal. After the meal open up the pavilion, select a few rolls from each of the thirty-five scriptures in my Three Stores, and tell them to propagate these scriptures in the East, where they may eternally grant their great goodness.”

Acting on the orders of the Buddha the two arhats then led the four pilgrims to the bottom of the tower, where no end of rare and wonderful jewels and treasures were set out. Here the divinities who made offerings set out a vegetarian banquet, with immortal food, immortal delicacies, immortal tea, immortal fruit, and every kind of culinary delight not to be found in the mortal world. Master and disciples bowed their heads to the ground in thanks for the Buddha’s kindness and proceeded to eat to their hearts’ content. Indeed:

Precious flames and golden light dazzled the eye,

While the rare incense and delicacies were marvelously fine.

The thousand-storied golden pavilion was infinitely lovely,

And pure sounded immortals’ music on the ear.

Meatless food and magic flowers of the sort that are rare on earth,

Fragrant teas and exotic dishes that give eternal life.

After a long period of enduring a thousand kinds of suffering,

Today comes the glorious happiness of the Way completed.

This was a piece of good fortune for Bajie, and a great benefit to Friar Sand as they ate their fill of the food in the Buddha’s land that gave eternal life and new flesh and bones for old. The two arhats kept the four of them company till the meal was over, after which they went to the treasure pavilion, where the doors were opened for them to go in and look. Over this all was a thousandfold aura of coloured light and auspicious vapors, while brilliant mists and clouds of good omen wafted all around. All over the scripture shelves and on the outside of the cases were pasted red labels on which were neatly written the titles of the scriptures. They were the

Nirvana sutra—748 rolls

Bodhisattva sutra—1,021 rolls

Akasagarbha sutra—400 rolls

Surangama sutra—110 rolls

Collection of sutras on the meaning of grace—50 rolls

Determination sutra—140 rolls

Ratnagarbha sutra—45 rolls

Avatamsaka sutra—500 rolls

Sutra on Worshipping Bhutatathata—90 rolls

Mahaprajnaparamita sutra—916 rolls

Mahaprabhasa sutra—300 rolls

Adbhuta-dharma sutras—1,110 rolls

Vimalakirti sutra—170 rolls

The Three Sastras—270 rolls

Diamond sutra—100 rolls

Saddharma sastra—120 rolls

Buddhacaritakavya sutra—800 rolls

Pancanaga sutra—32 rolls

Bodhisattva-vinaya sutra—116 rolls

Mahasamnipata sutras—130 rolls

Makara sutra—350 rolls

Saddharma-pundarika sutra—100 rolls

Yoga sutra—100 rolls

Precious Eternity sutra—220 rolls

Sutra on the Western Heaven—130 rolls

Samghika sutra—157 rolls

Samyukta-Buddhadesa sutra—1,950 rolls

Mahayana-sraddhotpadasa sutra—1,000 rolls

Great Wisdom sutra—1,080 rolls

Ratna-prabhava sutra—1,280 rolls

Original Pavilion sutra—850 rolls

Principal vinaya sutra—200 rolls

Ananda and Kasyapa led the Tang Priest to read the titles of all the scriptures.

“You have come here from the East, holy monk,” they said to him. “Have you brought us any presents? Hand them over right now, then we can give you the scriptures.”

When Sanzang heard this he said, “Your disciple Xuanzang has come a very long way, and I did not bring any with me.”

“That’s very fine,” the two arhats said with a laugh. “If we hand the scriptures over for nothing, they’ll be passed down through the ages and our successors will have to starve to death.” Wukong could not stand hearing them talking tough like this and refusing to hand the scriptures over, so he shouted, “Let’s go and report them to the Rulai, Master. We’ll get him to give us the scriptures himself.”

“Shut up!” said Kasyapa. “Where do you think you are, acting up like this? Come here and take the scriptures.” Bajie and Friar Sand, who were keeping their own tempers under control, calmed Wukong down. They turned back to accept the scriptures, which were packed one by one into the luggage. Some of it was put on the horse’s back, and the rest tied up as two carrying-pole loads that Bajie and Friar Sand shouldered. They all then returned to the Buddha’s throne, kowtowed, thanked the Rulai and went straight out. They bowed twice to every Buddha and every bodhisattva they met. When they reached the main entrance they bowed to the bhiksus, the bhiksunis, the laymen and the laywomen, taking their leave of each one. Then they hurried back down the mountain.

The story tells not of them but of the Ancient Buddha Dipamkara, who had been quietly listening in the library when the scriptures were handed over. He understood perfectly well that Ananda and Kasyapa had handed over wordless scriptures. “Those stupid monks from the East didn’t realize that those were wordless scriptures,” he thought with a smile to himself. “The holy monks journey across all those mountains and rivers will be a complete waste. Who is in attendance here?” he called, and the arhat Suklavira stepped forward. “Use your divine might,” Dipamkara instructed him, “and go after the Tang Priest like a shooting star. Take the wordless scriptures from him and tell him to come back to fetch the true scriptures.” The arhat Suklavira then flew off on a storm wind that roared away from the Thunder Monastery as he gave a great display of his divine might. That splendid wind really was

A warrior from the Buddha’s presence,

Greater than the two wind gods of the Xun quarter.

The angry roars from his divine orifices

Were more powerful by far than the puffs of a young girl.

This wind made

Fish and dragons lose their dens,

While the waves flowed backwards in rivers and seas.

Black apes could not present the fruit they carried;

Yellow cranes turned back to the clouds as they sought their nests.

Ugly rang the song of the red phoenix;

Raucous were the calls of the multicolored pheasants.

The branches of hoary pines were broken

As the flowers of the udumbara blew away.

Every cane of green bamboo bowed low;

All the blooms of golden lotus swayed.

The sound of the bell was carried a thousand miles

While the chanting of sutras flew lightly up the ravines.

Ruined was the beauty of flowers under the crag;

The tender shoots of plants were laid low by the path

The brilliant phoenixes could hardly spread their wings;

White deer hid beneath the cliffs.

The heavens were heavy with fragrance

As the clear wind blew right through the clouds.

The Tang Priest was walking along when he smelt the fragrant wind, but he paid no attention to it, taking it for an auspicious sign of the Lord Buddha. Then a noise could be heard as a hand reached down from midair to lift the scriptures lightly off the horse’s back, which gave Sanzang such a shock that he beat his chest and howled aloud. Bajie scrambled along in pursuit, Friar Sand guarded the carrying-poles loaded with scriptures, and Pilgrim Sun flew after the arhat. Seeing that Wukong had almost caught up with him, and frightened that the merciless cudgel would make no bones about wounding him badly, the arhat tore the bundle of scriptures to shreds and flung it into the dust. When Wukong saw the bundle falling in pieces that were being scattered by the fragrant wind he stopped chasing the arhat and brought his cloud down to look after the scriptures. The arhat Suklavira put the wind and the clouds away, then went back to report to Dipamkara.

When Bajie, who was also in pursuit, saw the scriptures falling he helped Wukong to collect them up and carry them back to the Tang Priest. “Disciples,” the Tang Priest exclaimed, tears pouring from his eyes, “even in this world of bliss evil demons cheat people.” After gathering up the scattered scriptures in his arms Friar Sand opened one of them up and saw that it was as white as snow: not a word was written on it.

Quickly he handed it to Sanzang with the remark, “There’s nothing in this scroll, Master.” Wukong opened out another scroll to find that it had nothing written in it either. Bajie opened another and it too had nothing in it.

“Open them all for us to examine,” said Sanzang. Every single scroll was blank paper. “We Easterners really do have no luck,” he said, sighing and groaning. “What point is there in fetching wordless scriptures like these? How could I ever face the Tang emperor? I will have no way of avoiding execution for the crime of lying to my sovereign.”

Wukong, who already understood what had happened, then said to the Tang Priest, “Say no more, Master. Ananda and Kasyapa gave us these scrolls of blank paper because we hadn’t got any presents to give them when they asked for them. Let’s go back, report them to the Rulai and get them accused of extortion.”

“That’s right,” said Bajie, “that’s right. Let’s report them.” The four of them then hurried up the mountain again, and after a few steps they were rushing back to the Thunder Monastery.

Before long they were once more outside the gates of the monastery, where everyone raised their clasped hands in greeting. “Have you holy monks come to exchange your scriptures?” they asked with smiles. Sanzang nodded and expressed his thanks. The vajrapanis did not block them, but let them go straight in to the Mahavira Hall.

“Rulai,” yelled Wukong, “our master and the rest of us have had to put up with endless monsters, demons, troubles and hardships to get here from the East to worship you. You gave the orders for the scriptures to be handed over, but Ananda and Kasyapa didn’t do so because they were trying to extort things from us. They conspired and deliberately let us take away blank paper versions without a single word written on them. But what’s the point in taking those? I beg you to have them punished, Rulai.”

“Stop yelling,” replied the Lord Buddha with a smile. “I already know that they asked you for presents. But the scriptures cannot be casually passed on. Nor can they be taken away for nothing. In the past bhiksus and holy monks went down the mountain and recited these scriptures to the family of one Elder Zhao in the land of Sravasti. This ensured peace and safety for the living and deliverance for the dead members of the family. All that was asked for was three bushels and three pecks of granular gold. I said they had sold the scriptures too cheap, so I saw to it that Zhao’s sons and grandsons would be poor. You were given blank texts because you came here to fetch them empty-handed. The blank texts are true, wordless scriptures, and they really are good. But as you living beings in the East are so deluded and have not achieved enlightenment we’ll have to give you these ones instead. Ananda, Kasyapa,” he called, “fetch the true scriptures with words at once. Choose a few rolls from each title to give them, then come back here and tell me how many.”

The two arhats then led the four pilgrims to the foot of the library building and once again asked the Tang Priest for a present. Having nothing else to offer, he ordered Friar Sand to bring out the begging bowl of purple-gold and presented it with both hands. “Your disciple is poor and has come a very long way,” he said, “and I did not bring any presents with me. This bowl was given to me by the Tang emperor with his own hands to beg for food with on my journey. I now offer it to you as a token of my heartfelt feelings. I beg you arhats not to despise it but to keep it. When I return to my court I shall report this to the Tang emperor, who will certainly reward you richly. I only ask you to give me the true scriptures that have words to save me from failing in my imperial mission and making this long, hard journey for nothing.”

Ananda accepted the bowl with no more than a hint of a smile. The warriors guarding the precious library building, the kitchen staff responsible for the spices and the arhats in charge of the library rubbed each other’s faces, patted each other’s backs, flicked each other with their fingers and pulled faces. “Disgraceful,” they all said with grins, “disgraceful. Demanding presents from the pilgrims who’ve come to fetch the scriptures!”

A moment later Ananda was frowning with embarrassment but still holding the bowl and not letting go. Only then did Kasyapa go into the library to check the scriptures through one by one and give them to Sanzang.

“Disciples,” called Sanzang, “take a good look at them, not like last time.” The three of them took the rolls and examined them one by one. All had words. 5,048 rolls were handed over, the total in a single store. They were neatly packed up and put on the horse, and those left over were made into a carrying-pole load for Bajie to take. Friar Sand carried their own luggage, and as Pilgrim Sun led the horse the Tang Priest took his staff, pushed his Vairocana mitre into position, shook his brocade cassock, and went happily into the presence of the Rulai. Indeed:

Sweet taste the True Scriptures of the Great Store,

Created fine and majestic by the Rulai Buddha.

Remember what Xuanzang suffered to climb this mountain:

Ananda’s greed was something ridiculous.

What they did not notice at first Dipamkara helped them to see;

Later the scriptures were real and they then found peace.

Successful now, they would take the scriptures to the East;

Where all could be refreshed by their life-giving richness.

Ananda and Kasyapa led the Tang Priest to see the Rulai, who ascended his lotus throne and directed the two great arhats Dragon-queller and Tiger-subduer to strike the cloud-ringing stone chimes that summoned all the Three Thousand Buddhas, the Three Thousand Protectors, the Eight Vajrapanis, the Four Bodhisattvas, the Five Hundred Arhats, the Eight Hundred Bhiksus, the host of laymen, bhiksunis, laywomen, and the greater and lesser honoured ones and holy monks of every cave, every heaven, the blessed lands and the magic mountains. Those who were supposed to sit were asked to ascend their precious thrones, and those who were supposed to stand stood on either side. All of a sudden heavenly music rang out from afar and magical sounds wafted around. The air was full of countless beams of auspicious light and of aura upon aura as all the Buddhas gathered together to pay their respects to the Rulai.

“How many rolls of scripture have you given them, Ananda and Kasyapa?” the Rulai asked. “Please tell me the numbers one by one.”

The two arhats then reported, “We are now handing over for the Tang court the

Nirvana sutra—400 rolls

Bodhisattva sutra—360 rolls

Akasagarbha sutra—20 rolls

Surangama sutra—30 rolls

Collection of sutras on the meaning of grace—40 rolls

Determination sutra—40 rolls

Ratnagarbha sutra—20 rolls

Avatamsaka sutra—81 rolls

Sutra on Worshipping Bhutatathata—30 rolls

Mahaprajnaparamita sutra—600 rolls

Mahaprabhasa sutra—50 rolls

Adbhuta-dharma sutras—550 rolls

Vimalakirti sutra—30 rolls

The Three Sastras—42 rolls

Diamond sutra—1 rolls

Saddharma sastra—20 rolls

Buddhacaritakavya sutra—116 rolls

Pancanaga sutra—20 rolls

Bodhisattva-vinaya sutra—60 rolls

Mahasamnipata sutras—30 rolls

Makara sutra—140 rolls

Saddharma-pundarika sutra—10 rolls

Yoga sutra—30 rolls

Precious Eternity sutra—170 rolls

Sutra on the Western Heaven—30 rolls

Samghika sutra—110 rolls

Samyukta-Buddhadesa sutra—1,638 rolls

Mahayana-sraddhotpadasa sastra—50 rolls

Great Wisdom sutra—90 rolls

Ratna-prabhava sutra—140 rolls

Original Pavilion sutra—56 rolls

Principal vinaya sutra—10 rolls

Mahamayuri-vidyarajni sutra—14 rolls

Vynaptimatra-tasiddhi sastra—10 rolls

Abhidharma-kosa sastra—10 rolls

From the thirty-five scriptures in all of the stores we have selected 5,048 rolls to give to the holy monk. These will be kept and handed down in Tang. They have now all been packed neatly and put on the horse or made into carrying-pole loads. The pilgrims are only waiting to express their thanks.”

Sanzang and his three followers then tethered the horse, put down the loads, joined their hands in front of their chests and bowed in worship.

“The achievement of these scriptures is immeasurable,” the Rulai said to the Tang Priest, “Although they are the source of foreknowledge and reflection for my school they are truly the origin of all Three Schools. If they reach your Southern Continent of Jambudvipa they must not be treated with disrespect when they are shown to all living beings. Nobody who has not bathed, avoided eating meat and observed the prohibitions may open the rolls. Treasure them. Honour them. They include the esoteric mysteries of the Way of Immortality and wonderful methods for discovering all transformations.” Kowtowing in thanks, Sanzang faithfully accepted these instructions and determined to carry them out, did three more circuits of homage round the Lord Buddha then with dutiful and sincere obedience accepted the scriptures and went out with them through the third of the monastery gates, where he thanked all the holy beings one by one again. Of him we will say no more.

After sending the Tang Priest on his way the Rulai dissolved the assembly that had been called to pass on the scriptures. The Bodhisattva Guanyin then stepped forward from the side, put her hands together and submitted to the lord Buddha, “It has been fourteen years from the time when your disciple went to the East that year to find the man who would fetch the scriptures to his success today. That makes 5,040 days. May the World-honoured One allow the holy monks to go back east from the West within eight days, so as to complete the number of rolls in one store, and then your disciple may report his mission as completed.”

“What you say is quite right,” replied the Rulai with delight. “You are permitted to report the completion of your mission.” With that he instructed the Eight Vajrapanis, “You are to use your divine might to escort the holy monks back to the East, where they will hand the true scriptures over to be kept there. After escorting the holy monks back, you may return to the West. This must be done within eight days in order to match the number of rolls in one store. There must be no disobedience or delay.” The vajrapanis caught up with the Tang Priest. “Come with us, scripture-fetchers,” they called; and the Tang Priest and the others became light and strong as they floated up on clouds after the vajrapanis. Indeed:

Nature revealed and mind made clear, they visited the Buddha;

Actions complete and all achieved, they flew aloft.

If you do not know how they passed on the scriptures after returning to the East, listen to the explanation in the next installment.

1. In Buddhist mythology the udumbara tree blooms only once in 3,000 years.