Cleansed and with a Washed Heart He Sweeps the Pagoda

The Devils Are Captured and Converted; the Body Is Cultivated

Through all the hours it must never be forgotten:

When success is won all time will be put away.

For five years and sixty thousand miles

Do not let the holy water dry up,

Do not allow the fire to flag.

When water and fire are in balance no harm will arise;

The Five Elements are joined as if with hooks.

Ying and Yang in harmony climb the cloud tower,

Riding the phoenix to the purple palace,

And flying on the crane to magical Yingzhou.

This lyric is set to the tune Lin jiang xian. It tells how Tang Sanzang and his disciples with the help of water and fire cooled their natures and borrowed the fan that was pure Yin to blow out the flames on the distant mountains. It took them many days to cover the 250 miles as they made their way West feeling relaxed and free of care. It was now the time when late autumn was becoming early winter, and this is what they saw:

The petals of wild chrysanthemums wilting,

The tender new blossom of the plum.

In all the villages crops are gathered in;

Delicious broth is everywhere enjoyed.

As the trees are stripped of leaves distant forests can be seen;

Ravines are thickly frosted and the quiet valleys pure.

In response to the cold season

The silkworms are put away to hibernate.

In pure Yin and Yang

The moon rules over the primal ocean;

Where water is at the full

Shun's sun shines with merciful brightness.

Earth vapors sink,

Sky vapors rise.

The rainbow is no more to be seen,

While slowly ice forms over the pond.

Flowers fall from the creepers on the cliff,

While bamboo and pine show still greener in the cold.

When the four of them had traveled a lot further they approached a walled and moated city. Reining in the horse the Tang Priest spoke to his disciples: “Wukong, what sort of place is that with all those tall and magnificent buildings?” Monkey looked and saw that the city was like this:

A wall of bronze, shaped like a dragon,

And in the form of a crouching tiger,

From all directions fine carriages approach

And many a wheel has smoothed the roads to it.

Amazing beasts are carved on the balustrades of marble;

Statues of great men stand on pedestals of gold.

This is indeed a blessed capital,

A true metropolis.

Its vast domains are firmly held;

The dynasty has flourished for a thousand years.

To the monarch's goodness the barbarians submit;

Here is the holy gathering from islands and from sea.

Before the palace steps is purity;

Peace reigns on the highways.

The bars are full of noise and song;

Bliss is found in the houses of pleasure.

Outside the palace grow trees of eternal spring

Where phoenixes sing their greetings to the dawn.

“Master,” said Monkey, “that city is a royal capital.”

“The world is full of prefectural cities and county seats,” laughed Pig. “What makes you so sure that this is a royal capital?”

“You don't seem to realize that royal capitals are different from prefectural cities and county towns,” Monkey replied. “Just look. It's got over ten gates and the wall must measure twenty or thirty miles around. Those towers are so high they disappear into the clouds. How could anything except a royal capital be as grand as that?”

“You're right, brother,” said Friar Sand, “it is a royal city. But what's it called?”

“How can I tell?” Monkey replied. “There aren't any signs or banners. We'll have to go into it and ask.”

The venerable elder whipped on his horse and was soon at a gate, where he dismounted to cross the bridge and go in to look. They saw the six main streets and the three markets, where commerce was flourishing, as well as the imposing clothes of the noble and great. Then as they were walking along they saw a dozen or so Buddhist monks in chains and cangues, heavy boards locked round their necks, begging from door to door. They were dressed in rags.

“The fox mourns for the death of the hare,” sighed Sanzang. “All things are sorry for their own kind. Go and ask them, Wukong, why they are being punished like that.”

Doing as he had been told, Monkey asked, “What monastery are you from, monks? Why are you in cangues and chains?”

“My lord,” said the monks, all falling to their knees, “we are from the Golden Light Monastery and we have been wronged.”

“Where is the Golden Light Monastery?” Monkey asked.

“Just round the corner,” they replied.

Monkey led them to the Tang Priest and asked them, “How have you been wronged? Tell me.”

“We don't know where you're from, but you look a little familiar to us, my lords,” the monks replied. “We don't dare talk here. Please come to our poor monastery where we can tell you our woes.”

“Very well,” said the venerable elder, “we shall go to their monastery and ask them all the details.” They went with them to the monastery gate, over which was a board on which was written in letters of gold

NATION-PROTECTING GOLDEN LIGHT MONASTERY

FOUNDED BY ROYAL COMMAND

When master and disciples went inside to look around this is what they saw:

Cold were the lamps in the ancient hall;

Wind blew the leaves along deserted cloisters.

A thousand-foot pagoda touched the clouds;

Pine trees grew to nourish the nature.

Fallen blooms carpeted the unvisited grounds;

Spiders span cobwebs all over the eaves.

The drum-stand was empty,

The bell hung in vain,

And the frescoes could barely be seen through the dust.

Still was the pulpit where no priest could be seen,

Silent the dhyana hall except for the birds.

The desolation made one long to sigh;

Its dreariness caused great pain.

Although an incense burner stood before the Buddha

All was cold ash, withered flowers and desolation.

All this made Sanzang miserable, and he could not help his tears flowing. The monks in their cangues and chains pushed open the doors of the main Buddha-hall and invited him to step inside and worship the Buddha. Sanzang entered, offered the incense of his heart and said the recitation three times. Then he turned round again to see six or seven young monks locked to the pillars outside the abbot's lodgings. It was more than he could bear.

When he entered the abbot's lodgings and all the monks came to kowtow to him they asked, “You reverend gentlemen look rather different. Are you from Great Tang in the East?”

“You must have second sight,” Monkey said with a laugh. “We are indeed, but how could you tell?”

“We don't have second sight, my lords,” the monks replied. “It's just that because we're so distressed at the injustice we've suffered and because there's nowhere else we can turn, we have been calling on heaven and earth for days on end. Some heavenly deity must have been moved by us because last night we all had the same dream. We were told that a holy monk was coming from Great Tang in the East who would save our lives and right our wrongs. We knew who you were today because you looked rather unusual.”

This pleased Sanzang greatly. “What country is this, and what injustice have you suffered?” he asked.

“My lord,” said the monks on their knees, “this country is called Jisai, and it's one of the biggest in the West. In the old days the foreign states all around used to send tribute: Yuetuo in the South, Gaochang to the North, Western Liang in the East, and Benbo to the West. Every year they used to offer fine jade, bright pearls, beautiful women and magnificent horses. We never had to resort to arms or send expeditions against them: they naturally acknowledged us as their suzerain.”