Chapter 23: Sanzang Does Not Forget His Origin; The Four Holy Ones Test the Heart of Zen
CHAPTER 23: SANZANG DOES NOT FORGET HIS ORIGIN; THE FOUR SAGES TEST THE SPIRIT OF DEVOTION
By imperial decree they journeyed westward, the road stretching far and long; the autumn wind blew softly, scattering frost flowers. The clever monkey firmly held the reins and did not let them loose; the unruly horse was reined in tightly, with no need to add the whip. The Wood Mother and Metal Father were originally in harmony; the Yellow Dame and Red Child were fundamentally without distinction. Biting open the iron pellet, they obtained true tidings; Prajñāpāramitā reached the other shore.
This chapter largely speaks of the principles of seeking scriptures, which cannot depart from the principle of cultivating one's own foundation. Let us speak of how the four of them, master and disciples, awakened to the true nature of Suchness, and instantly cast off the bonds of the dusty world. Since leaping out of the Sea of Nature and the Shifting Sands, their bodies and minds were without any hindrance, and they headed straight along the main road toward the west. They traversed green mountains and clear waters, and saw endless wild grasses and idle flowers. Truly, time passed swiftly, and again it reached the deep autumn season, as seen:
Crimson maple leaves filled the mountains,
Chrysanthemums endured the evening wind.
Aged cicadas sang with growing languor,
Troubled crickets brooded without end.
Lotus leaves were tattered like green silk fans,
Orange fragrance rose like golden pellet groves.
Pitiful were the rows of wild geese,
Dotting the distance, arrayed in the sky.
As they traveled, without realizing it, the sky grew late. Sanzang said, "Disciples, now it is dark again—where shall we lodge?" The Pilgrim said, "Master, your words are mistaken. A man of the Way eats the wind and sleeps on the water, lies under the moon and rests in the frost—everywhere is home. Why ask where to lodge?" Zhu Bajie said, "Elder Brother, do you know that walking is light for you? Why do you not care about others' burdens? Ever since we crossed the Flowing Sands River, climbing mountains and crossing ridges, I have been carrying this heavy load on my back—it is truly unbearable. We must find a household, first to beg some tea and food, and second to restore our spirits—that would be the proper way." The Pilgrim said, "Idiot, speaking like this, you seem to harbor complaints. It seems you still think of the lazy, carefree days at Gao Village, and that won't do. Since you have sincerely taken refuge in the Sangha, you must endure hardship and suffering to be a proper disciple." Bajie said, "Elder Brother, do you see how heavy this luggage is?" The Pilgrim said, "Brother, ever since you and Sha Monk joined us, I have not carried it—how would I know its weight?" Bajie said, "Elder Brother, just look at the count:
Four strips of yellow rattan,
Eight ropes both long and short.
To guard against rain,
Three or four layers of felt wrapping.
The carrying pole is slippery, so
Nails are driven at both ends.
Copper-bound, iron-forged, nine-ring staff,
Bamboo-splint, rattan-wound, large rain hat.
With such a load of luggage, it falls to Old Pig alone to carry it every day. Yet you alone follow the master as his disciple, while you treat me like a hired laborer." The Pilgrim laughed and said, "Idiot, to whom are you speaking?" Bajie said, "Elder Brother, I am speaking to you." The Pilgrim said, "You are mistaken in speaking to me. Old Monkey is only concerned with the master's welfare; you and Sha Monk are in charge of the luggage and the horse. But if you slack off in the least, your shinbones will first get a taste of my rough staff." Bajie said, "Elder Brother, do not speak of beating—beating is using force to bully others. I know that your noble nature is proud, and you certainly refuse to carry it. But the horse the master rides—so tall and fat—carries only the old monk alone. Let him carry a few items; that would show brotherly feeling."
The Pilgrim said, "You call him a horse, but he is no common horse. He is originally the son of Ao Run, the Dragon King of the Western Sea, named the Third Prince of the Dragon Horse. Because he set fire to a bright pearl on the palace hall, his father accused him of unfilial conduct, and he committed a heavenly offense. Fortunately, Guanyin Bodhisattva saved his life. He waited long for the master at the Eagle's Sorrow Steep Ravine, and by the grace of the Bodhisattva's personal visit, he shed his scales and lost his horns, removed the pearl from under his chin, and thus transformed into this horse, willing to carry the master to worship the Buddha in the Western Heaven. These are each one's own merit and destiny—do not drag him into this." On hearing this, Sha Monk said, "Elder Brother, is he truly a dragon?" The Pilgrim said, "He is a dragon." Bajie said, "Elder Brother, I have heard the ancients say: Dragons can spew clouds and breathe mist, stir up earth and scatter sand; they have the ability to move mountains and open roads, the power to overturn rivers and churn seas. How is it that today he walks so slowly?" The Pilgrim said, "You want him to go faster? I'll show you how fast he can go."
Great Sage, gripping his golden-banded staff tightly, caused myriad beams of colored clouds to arise. When the horse saw him take the staff, fearing a beating, it panicked and its four hooves flew like lightning, and it sped off with a whoosh. The master's hands were too weak to rein it in, and he let it run wild until it charged up a cliff before slowing to a big stride. The master had barely caught his breath when he raised his head and saw in the distance a cluster of pine shade, within which were several houses, very lofty and grand. It appeared thus:
The gate hung with verdant cypress,
The dwelling near the green mountains.
Several pine trees rose gracefully,
A few bamboo stalks were mottled.
Wild chrysanthemums by the fence, frozen in frost, were gorgeous,
Orchids by the bridge reflected in the water were red.
Walls of plastered mud,
Enclosures of brick masonry.
The high hall was very magnificent,
The great mansion was quite peaceful.
No oxen or sheep were seen, no dogs or chickens—
It seemed the autumn harvest left farm work idle.
As the master reined in the horse and slowly gazed about, Pilgrim and the others arrived. Sha Monk said, "Master, did you not fall off the horse?" The elder scolded, "Wukong, you wicked ape! You startled the horse. It is only by luck that I managed to stay on." The Pilgrim smiled apologetically and said, "Master, do not scold me. It was all because Zhu Bajie said the horse was walking too slowly, so I made it go faster." That idiot, having hurried to catch the horse, was panting heavily and grumbling, "Enough, enough! My belly is visible, my waist is sore. The burden is heavy, I can hardly lift it, and now you make me run about chasing the horse." The elder said, "Disciples, look over there—there is a manor. We can go there to seek lodging." On hearing this, the Pilgrim quickly raised his head and looked, and indeed he saw auspicious clouds shrouding the mid-air and an aura of good fortune filling the place. He knew in his heart that it must be a transformation by some Buddha or immortal, but he dared not reveal the heavenly secret. He only said, "Fine, fine, fine! Let us go seek lodging."
The elder quickly dismounted. Before them was a gate tower with hanging lotus and elephant-truss carvings, painted beams and carved rafters. Sha Monk set down the load, and Bajie led the horse and said, "This family is a wealthy household." The Pilgrim was about to enter, but Sanzang said, "No, you and I are men of the Way—we must each observe some propriety and not enter rashly. Wait until someone comes out, then we shall beg lodging with courtesy." Bajie tied the horse and leaned against the base of the wall; Sanzang sat on a stone drum; the Pilgrim and Sha Monk sat on the edge of the steps. For a long time, no one came out. The Pilgrim, impatient, jumped up and went inside to look. There he saw a three-bay main hall facing south, with bamboo blinds rolled high. On the screen door hung a horizontal scroll painting of Longevity Mountain and Sea of Blessings; on both sides of the gold-lacquered pillars was pasted a pair of spring couplets on large red paper, which read: "Willow fronds drift softly by the level bridge at dusk; fragrant plum blossoms dot the small courtyard in spring." In the center was a black-lacquered incense table, on which sat an ancient bronze incense burner in the shape of an animal. There were six armchairs, and on the two gable walls hung seasonal hanging scrolls.
As the Pilgrim was secretly looking, he suddenly heard footsteps from the back door, and a woman, neither old nor young, came out. In a charming voice she asked, "Who are you, to enter the gate of a widow without permission?" The Great Sage, startled, quickly replied, "I am a little monk from the Great Tang in the East, bearing an imperial decree to go to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek scriptures. Our party of four is passing through your esteemed region, and since it is late, we have come especially to beg the old Bodhisattva for lodging for one night." The woman smiled and welcomed him, saying, "Elder, where are the other three? Please invite them in." The Pilgrim called out loudly, "Master, please come in." Sanzang then entered with Bajie and Sha Monk, leading the horse and carrying the load, and saw the woman come out to greet them in the hall. Bajie stole a glance at her. Do you know how she was dressed?
She wore a brocade gown of official-green ramie silk,
Over it a light red sleeveless jacket;
She tied a multicolored goose-yellow embroidered skirt,
Beneath which high-heeled embroidered shoes were revealed.
Her fashionable hair was wrapped in black gauze,
Set off by a two-colored coiled-dragon hairpin;
An ivory comb in palace style, with red and green ornaments,
Dangled as two gold hairpins were thrust in at an angle.
Her cloud-like temples were half gray, like flying phoenix wings,
Earrings hung in pairs with strings of precious pearls.
Without rouge or powder, she was naturally beautiful,
Her charm still like that of a youthful maiden.
When the woman saw the three of them, she was even more delighted, and she courteously invited them into the hall. After they had exchanged greetings one by one, she asked them to sit and served tea. Suddenly, from behind a screen, a young maidservant with coiled hair appeared, carrying a golden tray and white jade cups; the fragrant tea gave off warm steam, and rare fruits scattered a subtle fragrance. The woman rolled up her embroidered sleeves, her fingers slender as spring bamboo shoots; she lifted the jade cups and offered tea with respect. She bowed to each of them in turn. After the tea, she ordered a vegetarian meal to be prepared. Sanzang clasped his hands and said, "Old Bodhisattva, what is your honorable surname? What is the name of this honored place?" The woman replied, "This place is in the region of West Ox-He Continent. My maiden surname is Jia, and my married surname is Mo. In my youth, I was unfortunate; my father-in-law and mother-in-law died early, and I lived with my husband, keeping to our ancestral estate. We have vast riches and thousands of acres of fertile land. As husband and wife, fate granted us no sons, only three daughters. Two years ago, a great misfortune befell us again, and my husband passed away. I have been a widow; this year my mourning period is complete. I am left with fields and family property, with no other relatives, only my daughters and myself to manage it. I think of marrying another, but it is hard to part with the estate. Just as you elders have descended here, it seems you are four masters and disciples, and we are four mother and daughters. I wish to take a husband from this mountain to keep the family together, and the four of you happen to be a perfect match. I wonder if you would be willing or not." Upon hearing this, Sanzang pretended to be deaf and dumb, closed his eyes to calm his mind, and sat in silence without answering.
The woman said, "My household has over three hundred qing of paddy fields, over three hundred qing of dry fields, and over three hundred qing of mountain orchards and fruit trees; we have over a thousand yellow water buffalo, herds of mules and horses, countless pigs and sheep; to the east, west, south, and north, there are sixty or seventy estates and pastures; we have grain and rice enough for eight or nine years, silk and satin enough for ten years, and gold and silver enough for a lifetime: far surpassing the hidden spring in brocade tents, let alone rows of golden hairpins. If you masters and disciples would change your minds and be adopted as sons-in-law in my home, free and at ease, enjoying wealth and honor, how would that not be better than toiling westward?" Sanzang only sat like an idiot, utterly silent.
The woman said, "I was born at the hour of you on the third day of the third month in the dinghai year, and my deceased husband was three years older than I; I am now forty-five. My eldest daughter is named Zhenzhen, twenty years old; my second daughter is named Ai’ai, eighteen years old; my youngest daughter is named Lianlian, sixteen years old: none have been betrothed. Although I am plain in appearance, fortunately my daughters have some charm, and there is no womanly craft or needlework they do not know. Because my former husband had no sons, we raised them as sons; in their youth, we also taught them some Confucian books, and they understand a little of composing poetry and matching couplets. Though we live in a mountain village, we are not vulgar people, and I reckon they would be worthy of you elders. If you would open your hearts, let your hair grow, and become the head of our household, wearing silk and satin, it would be far better than that earthen bowl and black robe, straw sandals and bamboo hat." Sanzang sat at the head, like a child frightened by thunder, a toad drenched by rain: he was merely dazed, staring blankly with upturned eyes.
When Bajie heard of such wealth and such beauty, his heart itched unbearably; sitting on that chair, it was as if needles were pricking his backside, twisting left and right, unable to restrain himself. He stepped forward and tugged at the master, saying, "Master, this lady is speaking to you—why do you pretend not to hear? At least you should reply." The master abruptly raised his head, scolded him, and drove Bajie back, saying, "You wretched creature! We are monks—how can we be moved by wealth or pay heed to beauty? What kind of principle is that?"
The woman laughed and said, "Pitiful, pitiful. What good is there in being a monk?" Sanzang said, "Lady Bodhisattva, what good is there in being a layperson?" The woman said, "Elder, sit down, and let me tell you the benefits of a layperson. How shall I say it? There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:
In spring, cut square silk and wear new gauze; in summer, change to light silk and admire green lotus;
In autumn, there is newly brewed fragrant glutinous wine; in winter, drink in the warm chamber until cheeks are red with intoxication.
Enjoy all things in the four seasons; have every rare delicacy at the eight festivals.
A bridal night with brocade quilts and silk curtains is better than trudging along and bowing to Amitabha."
Sanzang said, "Lady Bodhisattva, you laypeople enjoy wealth and honor, have clothing and food, and are reunited with children and grandchildren—truly good. But you do not know that we who have left the household also have our own benefits. How shall I say it? There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:
To leave the household and set one's will is fundamentally extraordinary, overturning the former hall of love and favor.
External things give rise to no idle gossip; within the body, there is naturally the proper yin and yang.
When the work is complete and conduct perfected, one approaches the golden court; seeing nature and clarifying the mind, one returns to the homeland.
This is better than being a layperson, greedy for blood and flesh, and in old age falling into a stinking skin bag."
When the woman heard this, she became enraged and said, "You rude, shameless monk! If I did not see that you have come from the East, I would drive you out. I was sincere, wanting to take you into my family and estate, and you instead wound me with your words. Even if you have taken vows and made oaths never to return to lay life, at least one of your disciples could stay—my family could take one. Why are you so stubborn?" Seeing her anger, Sanzang had no choice but to yield, and called out, "Wukong, you stay here." The said, "I have never understood such matters since childhood. Let Bajie stay here." Bajie said, "Brother, don't set a trap for me. Let's all discuss it properly." Sanzang said, "If neither of you is willing, then let Wujing stay here." Sha Seng said, "Look at what the master says. Your disciple, moved by the Bodhisattva's persuasion, took the precepts and waited for the master. Since the master accepted me, and then instructed me, I have not yet been with the master for two months, nor have I achieved even a fraction of merit. How dare I covet this wealth and honor? I would rather die than fail to go to the Western Heaven; I will never do such a deceitful thing."
When the woman saw them all refusing, she quickly turned and withdrew behind the screen, and with a bang, closed the waist-high door. The masters and disciples were left outside, with no tea or food, and no one came out. Bajie grew agitated in his heart and complained to Tang Sanzang, saying, "Master, you really don't know how to handle things. You've said everything too absolutely. At least you could have left some room, just answered vaguely, tricked them into giving us some food, and enjoyed a comfortable night. Whether we agree or not tomorrow is up to us. Now, with the door closed like this, and nothing but cold ashes and empty hearth, how are we to get through the night?"
Wujing said, "Second Brother, why don't you become their son-in-law?" Bajie said, "Brother, don't set a trap for me. Let's all talk it over properly." The said, "What's there to discuss? If you're willing, let the master and this lady become in-laws, and you become a live-in son-in-law. With all this wealth and treasure in the house, they'll surely give a generous dowry and hold a wedding feast—we'll get to enjoy some of it. You return to lay life here—wouldn't that be perfect for both sides?" Bajie said, "That sounds well enough, but I'd be leaving the monastic life and returning to it again, abandoning one wife and taking another." Sha Seng said, "Second Brother, so you had a wife?" The said, "You don't know about him. He was originally the son-in-law of Lord Gao of Gaolaozhuang in Wusizang. Because I subdued him, he had also taken the Bodhisattva's precepts, and with no other choice, I caught him and made him a monk. So he abandoned his former wife and followed the master to the west to worship the Buddha. I think he's been separated from her for a long time and has started thinking about that business again. Just now, when he heard this talk, he certainly had that intention again. Idiot, you go ahead and become their son-in-law. Just bow to me a few more times, and I won't expose you." The idiot said, "Nonsense, nonsense. Everyone has the same thoughts, but you single me out for shame. As the saying goes, 'Monks are hungry ghosts for lust.' Who doesn't want this? Everyone puts on a pretentious act and ruins a good thing, so now we have no tea or water, and no one to tend the lamps. Even if we endure this night, that horse will have to carry someone and walk tomorrow—if it goes hungry another night, we'll only have its hide left. You all sit here; let Old Pig go out and graze the horse."
The idiot hurriedly untied the reins and led the horse out. The said, "Sha Seng, you stay here and keep the master company. Let Old Monkey follow him and see where he grazes the horse." Sanzang said, "Wukong, if you go to watch him, do so, but do not mock him too much." The said, "I understand." This Great Sage left the hall, shook himself, and transformed into a red dragonfly, flew out the front gate, and caught up with Bajie.
That idiot took the horse, and where there was grass he wouldn’t let it graze, but drove it on with a clatter, turning round to the back gate. There he saw the woman with her three daughters standing idly outside the back gate, enjoying the chrysanthemums. When the mother and her girls saw Bajie coming, the three daughters slipped inside. The woman stood at the gate and said, “Little elder, where are you going?” The idiot dropped the reins, stepped forward, made a bow, and called out, “Mother, I’ve come to graze the horse.” The woman said, “Your master is too particular. If you took a wife in my house, wouldn’t that be better than being a wandering monk and hurrying west?” Bajie laughed and said, “They are under the Tang Emperor’s decree and dare not disobey the imperial command; they won’t do such a thing. Just now they were all in the front hall making fun of me, and I felt a bit awkward, afraid that you, Mother, might find me ugly with my long snout and big ears.” The woman said, “I don’t mind that, but as there’s no head of the household here, taking a son-in-law would be fine, only I fear my youngest daughter might find you ugly.” Bajie said, “Mother, tell your daughter not to be so picky about men. Take my master Tang Sanzang—though his looks are handsome, he’s really useless. I may be ugly, but I have a few sayings to boast of.” The woman said, “What do you say?” Bajie said, “I:
Though my face is coarse, my diligence has some force.
If there were a thousand acres of land, no oxen would be needed to plow;
One stroke of my rake, and seeds are sown in time.
If there’s no rain, I can pray for it; if no wind, I can summon a breeze.
If the rooms are too low, I’ll add two or three stories.
If the floor’s not swept, I’ll sweep it; if the drain’s blocked, I’ll clear it.
All household affairs, great and small, I can turn heaven and earth upside down.”
The woman said, “Since you’re so capable at housework, go and discuss it again with your master, and if there’s no awkwardness, I’ll take you in.” Bajie said, “No need to discuss it. He’s not my father or mother; whether it’s done or not is up to me.” The woman said, “Very well, very well. Let me speak to my youngest daughter.” She slipped inside, and with a bang the back gate was shut.
Pig Bajie didn’t graze the horse but led it back. Little did he know that Great Sage Sun had already learned everything. He turned his wings and flew back, revealing his true form, and first saw Sanzang, saying, “Master, Wuneng is leading the horse back.” The elder said, “If the horse weren’t led, it might bolt and run away.” Pilgrim laughed and told the whole story of what the woman and Bajie had said, from beginning to end. Sanzang half believed and half doubted it.
After a while, they saw that idiot bring the horse and tie it up. The elder said, “Did you graze the horse?” Bajie said, “There was no good grass; there was nowhere to graze it.” Pilgrim said, “Nowhere to graze the horse, but was there a place to lead it?” When the idiot heard this, he knew the matter had been exposed, and he hung his head, twisted his neck, pouted, and frowned, not speaking for a long time. Then they heard a creak as the waist gate opened, and two pairs of red lanterns and a pair of incense burners appeared, with curling smoke and tinkling jade ornaments. The woman, leading her three daughters, came out and called out, “Zhenzhen, Ai’ai, Lianlian, come and pay respects to the scripture-seeking gentlemen.” The girls arranged themselves in the hall and bowed upward. Indeed, they were very beautiful, as can be seen:
Each one had moth eyebrows of emerald green, and faces like spring. They were bewitchingly beautiful enough to topple kingdoms, slender and moving to the heart. Their flowered hairpins showed many charming poses, and their embroidered sashes fluttered, far beyond the mundane. Half-smiling, their cherry lips parted; when they walked slowly, orchid and musk scents wafted. Their heads were covered with pearls and jade, countless precious hairpins trembling; their bodies were fragrant, delicate in golden-threaded silk. What need to mention the beauty of Chu maidens or the loveliness of Xi Shi? Truly they were like heavenly maidens descending from the Nine Heavens, or the moon goddess Chang’e leaving the Guanghan Palace.
Sanzang put his palms together and lowered his head. Great Sage Sun pretended not to notice. Sha Monk turned his back and looked away. But look at Pig Bajie—he stared without blinking, his lustful mind in turmoil, his lecherous boldness rampant. He twisted and turned, whispering in a low voice, “Thank you, immortals, for descending. Mother, please send the sisters in.” The three girls withdrew behind a screen, leaving a pair of gauze lanterns. The woman said, “Four elders, would you be willing to consider which of you should be matched with my youngest daughter?” Wujing said, “We’ve already discussed it; let that fellow named Zhu be taken as the live-in son-in-law.” Bajie said, “Brother, don’t frame me like that; let’s all discuss it together.” Pilgrim said, “What’s there to discuss? You already settled it all at the back gate, even called her ‘Mother’; what’s there to talk about? Let the master be the male in-law, this woman the female in-law, let old Monkey be the matchmaker, and Sha Monk the go-between. No need to consult an almanac; today is a blessed and auspicious day. Come, bow to the master, and go in to be the son-in-law.” Bajie said, “It won’t work, it won’t work; how can I do such a thing?” Pilgrim said, “Idiot, don’t make a fuss. You’ve called her ‘Mother’ who knows how many times, and now you say it won’t work. Hurry up and agree, so we can have some wedding wine—that’ll be a good thing.” With one hand he grabbed Bajie and with the other he pulled the woman, saying, “Mother-in-law, take your son-in-law inside.” That idiot staggered, trying to go in the direction he was pulled. The woman then called the boys: “Set the tables and chairs, prepare the evening meal, and entertain the three in-laws. I’ll take the son-in-law to the inner rooms.” At the same time, she ordered the cook to prepare a feast for the next morning’s family meeting. The boys took their orders and left. The three of them ate the meal, then quickly made their beds and settled in the guest hall for the night; of this we say no more.
Now, as Bajie followed his mother-in-law inside, they passed through countless rooms, bumping and stumbling over thresholds. The idiot said, “Mother, walk a bit slower; I’m not familiar with the way here. Lead me.” The woman said, “These are all the granaries, storehouses, and mill houses; we haven’t even reached the kitchen yet.” Bajie said, “What a big household!” Bumping and stumbling, turning corners, they walked for a long time before reaching the inner hall. The woman said, “Son-in-law, your elder brother said today is a blessed and auspicious day, so I’m taking you in. But it’s all so sudden that I haven’t had time to invite a geomancer for the wedding ceremony and scattering of the bridal gifts. Just bow eight times facing the hall.” Bajie said, “Mother is right. Please take the seat of honor, and let me bow a few times; that will serve as both the wedding ceremony and the thanks to the in-laws—two in one—isn’t that simpler?” His mother-in-law laughed and said, “Very well, very well. You really are a practical son-in-law who saves trouble. I’ll sit, and you bow.”
Ah! The hall was bright with silver candles, and that idiot bowed facing the hall. After bowing, he said, “Mother, which sister are you giving me?” His mother-in-law said, “That’s the difficulty: if I give you the eldest, I fear the second will complain; if I give you the second, I fear the third will complain; if I give you the third, I fear the eldest will complain. So I’ve been hesitating all along.” Bajie said, “Mother, if you’re afraid of quarrels, give them all to me, to avoid any fuss and disorder in the household.” His mother-in-law said, “How absurd! Can one man take all three of my daughters?” Bajie said, “Look at what Mother says—who doesn’t have three wives and four concubines? Even if you had a few more, your son-in-law would gladly accept them all. In my youth, I learned the art of fierce battle, and I guarantee I’ll serve each one to their delight.” The woman said, “No, no. I have a handkerchief here; put it on your head to cover your face, and try your luck at a heavenly marriage: let my daughters pass before you, and whichever one you grab with your outstretched hand, she shall be yours.” The idiot followed her words, took the handkerchief, and put it on his head. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:
Foolish and ignorant, not knowing the root cause,
The sword of lust harms the body, secretly lost.
Since ancient times, there has been the Duke of Zhou’s rite;
Today the new groom wears the bridal veil.
The idiot, having arranged the veil properly, said, “Mother, please ask the sisters to come out.” His mother-in-law called, “Zhenzhen, Ai’ai, Lianlian, all come and try your luck at the heavenly marriage to match with your son-in-law.” They heard the tinkling of jade ornaments and the fragrance of orchid and musk, as if immortals were moving about. That idiot really reached out his hand to grab someone, lunging left and right, but he couldn’t touch anyone. Back and forth, he couldn’t tell how many women were moving, but he couldn’t catch a single one. Lunging east, he hugged a pillar; lunging west, he touched a wall panel. He ran himself dizzy from both sides, couldn’t stand steady, and kept stumbling. Going forward, he kicked the door; going back, he bumped into the brick wall. Stumbling and bumping, he fell, his mouth swollen and head bruised, sitting on the ground. Panting heavily, he said, “Mother, your daughters are so slippery—I can’t catch a single one! What can I do, what can I do?”
The woman lifted his bridal veil and said, “Son-in-law, it’s not that my daughters are being difficult; they were all being modest and refused to take you.” Bajie said, “Mother, since they won’t have me, why don’t you take me yourself?” The woman said, “What a fine son-in-law! So lacking in propriety, even wanting to marry your mother-in-law! My three daughters are very clever; each of them has sewn a pearl-inlaid brocade shirt. Whichever one you can wear, that one shall take you.” Bajie said, “Fine, fine, fine, bring all three for me to try on. If I can wear them all, let all three take me!” The woman went back into the room, brought out only one shirt, and handed it to Bajie. The fool took off his dark blue cotton robe, picked up the shirt, and put it on. Before he could fasten the sash, he fell with a crash to the ground. It turned out to be several ropes tightly binding him. The fool was in unbearable pain, and those people had already disappeared.
Now, Sanzang, the Pilgrim, and Sha Monk woke from their sleep, unaware that the east was already growing light. Suddenly opening their eyes and looking up, they saw that the grand mansion and lofty halls were gone; there were no carved beams or painted rafters. They were all sleeping in a grove of pine and cypress trees. The startled elder hastily called out to the Pilgrim. Sha Monk said, “Brother, it’s over, it’s over. We’ve met ghosts.” Great Sage Sun understood in his heart and said with a slight smile, “What do you mean?” The elder said, “Look where we are sleeping!” The Pilgrim said, “It’s quite pleasant sleeping under these pines. But I wonder where that fool is suffering.” The elder said, “Who is suffering?” The Pilgrim laughed and said, “Yesterday’s family of mother and daughters—they must have been some Bodhisattvas manifesting themselves to test us. They probably left in the middle of the night, and poor Zhu Bajie is the only one suffering.” When Sanzang heard this, he pressed his palms together and bowed in reverence. Then they saw, fluttering and hanging from an ancient cypress tree behind them, a letter. Sha Monk hurriedly took it and showed it to the master. It was a hymn of eight lines:
The Old Mother of Mount Li had no worldly thoughts;
The South Sea Bodhisattva invited her down from the heights.
Samantabhadra and Manjusri were guests as well,
Transforming themselves into maidens within the woods.
The holy monk, virtuous, remained free of vulgarity;
Bajie, lacking meditation, was still full of desire.
From now on, quiet your heart and reform your ways;
If you grow lax, the road ahead will be hard.
The elder, the Pilgrim, and Sha Monk were reciting this hymn when they heard a loud cry from the depths of the dense forest: “Master! I’m being strangled to death! Save me! I won’t dare do it again!” Sanzang said, “Wukong, is that Wuneng calling?” Sha Monk said, “It is.” The Pilgrim said, “Brother, pay him no mind; let’s go.” Sanzang said, “That fool, though foolish and stubborn in nature, is simple and honest, and he does have some strength to carry the luggage. Let us consider the Bodhisattva’s original intention and save him to come with us. I expect he will never transgress again.” So Sha Monk rolled up the bedding and packed the load; Great Sage Sun untied the reins and led the horse, guiding the Tang Monk into the forest to search. Alas! Truly this is:
In cultivating upright conduct, one must be cautious;
Sweep away desire and lust to return to the truth.
We do not know whether that fool met with fortune or misfortune; listen to the next chapter for the explanation.