Journey to the West

37

The Royal Ghost Visits the Tang Priest at Night

Wukong's Magic Transformation Lures the Boy

Sanzang sat in the meditation hall of the Precious Wood Monastery reading the Litany of Emperor Wu of Liang and the Peacock Sutra until the third watch, when he finally put the scriptures back into their bags. Just when he was about to go to bed he heard a rushing noise and the whistling of a fiendish wind. Fearing that it would blow out his lamp, the venerable elder shielded the lamp with his sleeve as quickly as he could. To his consternation the lamp kept going on and off. By now he was so tired that he pillowed his head on the reading desk and took a nap. Although he had closed his eyes and was dozing, his mind stayed wide awake as he listened to the howling of the devil wind outside the window. It was a splendid wind. Indeed, there were

Soughs and whistles, Much scudding away.

It soughs and whistles, carrying the fallen leaves, Blows the clouds scudding away. All the stars in the sky go dark, And the earth is covered with flying dust. Sometimes fierce, Sometimes gentle.

When it blows gentle, pine and bamboo sound clear; When it blows fierce, the lakes have turbid waves. The mountain birds grieve, unable to reach their perches; The fish jump restlessly in the ocean. Doors and windows blow off the halls, Spirits and demons glare in the side−rooms.

All the vases in the Buddha hall crash to the ground; The glass lamp is shaken loose and the flame blows out. Incense−ash scatters as the burner tilts, The candles flare when their stand leans over. All the banners and hangings are torn, As bell and drum towers are shaken to their roots.

As the wind died down for a while, the elder in his dozy state heard a muffled call of "Master" from outside the meditation hall. He looked up, and in his dream he saw a man standing there soaking wet who was weeping and saying "Master" over and over again.

Sanzang bowed towards him from his seat and said, "You must be a fiend, or a goblin, or an evil spirit or a monster trying to trick me in the middle of the night. But I'm not one given to desire or anger. I'm an upright monk on a pilgrimage to the West at the command of the Tang Emperor of the East to worship the Buddha and fetch the scriptures. I have three disciples who are all demon−quelling, monster−exterminating heroes. If they see you they will smash your body and bones to bits and pulverize you. But I am full of great compassion and will do what is expedient for you. Make yourself scarce this moment and never come into my meditation hall again."

The person stayed there and replied, "Master, I'm not a demon or a ghost or a fiend or an evil spirit." "If you're none of these," retorted Sanzang, "what are you doing here in the middle of the night?" "Take a good look at me, Master," he said. When Sanzang took a really careful look he saw to his surprise that

On his head he wore a heaven−touching hat, And round his waist a belt of blue−green jade. Dragons and phoenixes danced on his ochre robe; His no−worry shoes were embroidered with clouds. The white jade scepter he held was arrayed with constellations. His face was like the eternal Emperor of Mount Tai, His form like Wenchang, god of officialdom.

At the sight of him Sanzang turned pale with shock. He bowed at once and called out at the top of his voice, "Which monarch are you, Your Majesty? Please be seated." He hurried over to support the monarch, only to find he was holding on to thin air. He looked again and saw that the man was still there.

"Your Majesty," said Sanzang, "which king are you? What country do you rule? I suppose that you must have fled here in the middle of the night because your country is in chaos or because you are being put upon by malicious ministers. Tell me your story."

Only then did the man tell what had happened, the tears streaming down his cheeks and his forehead creased with frowns. "Father," he said, "I live only some fifteen miles to the West of here, in the walled city where my dynasty was founded."