Chapter 8: Our Buddha Creates the Scriptures to Transmit Ultimate Bliss; Guanyin Receives the Decree and Goes to Chang'an

Chapter 8: Our Buddha Creates the Scriptures to Transmit Ultimate Bliss; Guanyin Receives the Decree and Goes to Chang’an

One might ask of the Chan gate, seeking and inquiring without end, only to end up old in vain. Grinding a brick to make a mirror, piling up snow for grain—how many youths have been deluded. Swallowing the great sea with a hair, containing Mount Sumeru in a mustard seed, the golden-hued head monk smiles faintly. When awakened, one transcends the ten stages and three vehicles; when stagnant, one is bound by the four modes of birth and six paths of existence. Who can hear, beneath the cliff of severed thoughts, under the tree of no shade, the cuckoo’s call at spring dawn? The path at Caoxi is perilous, the clouds over Vulture Peak are deep; here the voice of an old friend is lost. On the thousand-zhang ice cliff, the five-petaled lotus blooms; in the ancient hall, the curtain hangs low as incense curls. At that moment, when one discerns the source and flow, one sees the three jewels of the dragon king.

This lyric is called “Man of Su Wu’s Slow.” It is said that after our Buddha Tathagata took leave of the Jade Emperor, he returned to the Thunderclap Monastery. There he saw the three thousand Buddhas, five hundred arhats, eight vajra guardians, and countless bodhisattvas, each holding banners, canopies, precious treasures, and celestial flowers, arrayed beneath the twin sala trees on the Spirit Mountain paradise to welcome him. Tathagata halted his auspicious cloud and said to the assembly, “I used the profound prajna to observe the triple realm universally. The fundamental nature originally is ultimately quiescent extinction. It shares the mark of emptiness, possessing nothing at all. Subduing that perverse monkey was a matter none could comprehend. It is called the beginning of birth and death; the dharma-mark is thus.” Having spoken, he emitted the light of his relic, and in the sky there appeared forty-two white rainbows, linking north and south. The multitude saw this, bowed their bodies, and paid homage. In a moment, they gathered auspicious clouds and colored mists, ascended the supreme lotus seat, and sat upright. The three thousand Buddhas, five hundred arhats, eight vajras, and four bodhisattvas, with palms joined, approached and paid obeisance, then asked: “What was that which disturbed the heavenly palace and disrupted the peach festival?” Tathagata said: “That wretch was a monstrous monkey born on the Flower-Fruit Mountain, whose evil crimes reach heaven, beyond description. All the celestial lords and generals could not subdue him; though Erlang captured him and the Old Lord refined him with fire, he could not be harmed. When I went, he was amidst the thunder generals, flaunting his might and showing off his spirit. I stopped the weapons and asked his origins. He claimed to have divine powers, to know transformations, and to ride a somersault cloud, traveling one hundred and eight thousand li in a single bound. I made a wager with him; he could not escape my palm, so I seized him, turned my fingers into the Five Elements Mountain, and sealed him there. The Jade Emperor opened wide the Golden Gate and Jasper Palace, seated me in the chief place, and held the Heavenly Pacification Assembly to thank me, whereupon I took leave and returned.” The multitude heard this with joy and praised him exceedingly.

After giving thanks, they each withdrew to their ranks and attended to their duties, sharing in the natural truth. Truly it was:

Auspicious vapors fill the heavens of India; rainbow light upholds the World-Honored One. In the West, called the foremost, the gate of the formless dharma king. Often seen are dark apes offering fruit, and deer bearing flowers in their mouths; green simurghs dance, colorful phoenixes sing; spirit tortoises offer longevity, and cranes bear magic mushrooms. Peacefully enjoying the Pure Land Jetavana, partaking of the dragon-palace dharma-realm. Daily flowers bloom, hourly fruits ripen. Calmly cultivating stillness, returning to truth; meditating on Chan, realizing the fruit. Neither born nor extinguished, neither increased nor decreased. Mist and haze drift freely with comings and goings; cold and heat do not invade, and years are not counted.

A poem says:

Coming and going freely, at ease and unhurried,

Neither fear nor worry exists.

In the realm of ultimate bliss, all is open and broad;

In the great chiliocosm, there is no spring or autumn.

The Buddha dwelt between the Spirit Mountain and the Great Thunderclap Monastery. One day, he summoned the assembly of Buddhas, arhats, gatis, bodhisattvas, vajras, bhikshus, and bhikshunis, saying: “Since subduing the perverse monkey and pacifying heaven, I have not known the years here; I estimate that in the mortal world half a millennium has passed. Now it is the fifteenth day of early autumn. I have a precious bowl, filled with a hundred rare flowers and a thousand different fruits and such, to share with you in this Ullambana assembly. What do you think?” The multitude all joined palms, circumambulated the Buddha three times, and understood. Then Tathagata had Ananda hold the flowers and fruits from the precious bowl, and had Kasyapa distribute them. The multitude were grateful and each offered poems of thanks.

The poem of blessing said:

The star of blessing shines before the World-Honored One,

Blessing received, vast and deep, even more enduring.

Blessing without bounds, as eternal as the earth,

Blessing’s fate with celebration, linked to heaven.

The field of blessing widely sown, year after year flourishing,

The sea of blessing deep and vast, year after year firm.

Blessing fills heaven and earth, much shade of blessing,

Blessing increases without measure, forever complete.

The poem of emolument said:

Emolument heavy as a mountain, the colorful phoenix sings,

Emolument follows timely peace, praising the long star.

Emolument added by ten thousand hu, the body healthy,

Emolument enjoyed by a thousand zhong, the world at peace.

Emolument’s stipend equal to heaven, eternally secure,

Emolument’s fame like the sea, even clearer.

Emolument’s grace far-reaching, much gazed upon,

Emolument’s rank boundless, ten thousand lands glorified.

The poem of longevity said:

The star of longevity offers its splendor to Tathagata,

The realm of longevity’s brilliance thus opens.

Longevity fruits fill the plate, giving birth to auspicious mist,

Longevity flowers newly picked, inserted in the lotus seat.

Longevity poems pure and elegant, full of wonder,

Longevity tunes harmonized, fitting the gifted.

Life prolonged, equal to sun and moon,

Longevity like mountains and seas, even more leisurely.

After the bodhisattvas had offered their poems, they then requested Tathagata to clearly point out the fundamental and explain the source and flow. Tathagata slightly opened his good mouth, set forth and expounded the great dharma, proclaimed the true fruit, and spoke of the three vehicles’ wondrous canon and the five skandhas’ Surangama. Then the heavenly dragons circled, and flowers rained down in profusion. Truly it was:

The Chan mind shines clearly, like a thousand rivers’ moon;

True nature is pure and vast, covering the ten-thousand-li sky.

After Tathagata finished his discourse, he said to the assembly: “I observe the four great continents; the good and evil of beings differ in each region. In Purvavideha, people revere heaven and honor earth, with minds clear and spirits calm. In Uttarakuru, though they are fond of killing, it is only for sustenance; their nature is simple and feelings thin, not creating much sin. In my Aparagodaniya, people are neither greedy nor murderous; they nurture their breath and conceal their spirit; though there are no superior true men, everyone enjoys long life. But in Jambudvipa, people are greedy, lustful, fond of calamity, given to much killing and contention; it is truly a field of sharp tongues and an ocean of wrong and evil. I now possess the three stores of true scriptures, which can persuade people to do good.” The bodhisattvas, hearing this, joined palms and took refuge, asking before the Buddha: “What are the three stores of true scriptures that Tathagata possesses?” Tathagata said: “I have a dharma store, discussing heaven; a treatise store, discussing earth; and a sutra store, liberating ghosts. The three stores comprise thirty-five sections, totaling fifteen thousand one hundred and forty-four scrolls. They are scriptures for cultivating truth and the path of correct goodness. I intend to send them to the eastern land, but the beings there are foolish, slandering the true words, not recognizing the essential meaning of my dharma gate, and neglecting the correct tradition of yoga. How can I obtain someone with dharma power to go to the eastern land, find a good believer, and cause him to endure hardship across a thousand mountains and seek scriptures through ten thousand waters, come to me to obtain the true scriptures, and then have them transmitted forever in the eastern land, to convert and transform beings? This would be a blessing as great as a mountain and a good fortune as deep as the sea. Who is willing to go on this journey?” At that moment, the Bodhisattva Guanyin approached the lotus seat, circumambulated the Buddha three times, and said: “This disciple, though unworthy, is willing to go to the eastern land to find a scripture seeker.” The multitude raised their heads to look; that bodhisattva:

Perfect in the four virtues, wisdom filling her golden body.

Necklaces hang with pearls and jade,

Fragrant rings knot with precious brightness.

Her black hair is artfully coiled in a spiral bun,

Her embroidered sash lightly flutters like a phoenix tail.

With jade-green buttons and a plain silk robe,

Auspicious light envelops her;

A brocade velvet skirt and gold pendants,

Auspicious vapors screen her.

Her brows are like crescent moons, her eyes like twin stars.

Her jade face is naturally joyful,

Her vermilion lips a spot of red.

The vase of pure water is ever full year after year,

The drooping willow inserted is ever green age after age.

She releases the eight difficulties, delivers all beings,

With great compassion and great mercy.

Thus she guards Mount Tai, dwells in the Southern Sea,

Rescues suffering at the sound of cries,

Responds to ten thousand calls, a thousand holy and a thousand numinous.

Her orchid heart delights in purple bamboo,

Her fragrant nature loves sweet rattan.

She is the compassionate lord on Mount Potalaka,

The living Guanyin in the Cave of Tidal Sound.

When Tathagata saw her, he was greatly pleased and said: “No other person can go. Only the Venerable Guanyin, with her vast divine powers, can do so.” The bodhisattva said: “This disciple, going to the eastern land, what instructions does the Buddha have?” Tathagata said: “On this journey, you must survey the road, and you are not permitted to travel in the clouds. You must go half-cloud, half-mist, letting your eyes examine the mountains and waters, and carefully remember the distances. Instruct the scripture seeker. But I fear the good believer may find the journey difficult, so I will give you five treasures.” He then ordered Ananda and Kasyapa to bring out a brocade-lined kasaya and a nine-ringed staff, and said to the bodhisattva: “This kasaya and staff can be used personally by the scripture seeker. If he is determined to come to me, wearing my kasaya will prevent him from falling into rebirth; holding my staff will shield him from harm.” The bodhisattva bowed in reverence and accepted them. Tathagata then took out three headbands and handed them to the bodhisattva, saying: “This treasure is called the tight-band headband. Although the three are alike, their uses differ. I have three incantations: gold, tight, and prohibition. If on the road you encounter a demon with vast divine powers, you must persuade him to reform and become a disciple of the scripture seeker. If he refuses to obey, you may place this band on his head, and it will naturally take root in the flesh. Recite the appropriate incantation according to its use, and his eyes will bulge, his head will ache, and his forehead will split open, forcing him to enter my gate.”

When the bodhisattva heard this, she bowed with joy and withdrew. She then called the attendant Huian to accompany her. Huian wielded an iron staff weighing a thousand jin, and served as a powerful demon-subduing warrior at the bodhisattva’s side. The bodhisattva then made a bundle of the brocade-lined kasaya and had him carry it. She hid the golden bands, grasped the staff, and went straight down from Spirit Mountain. On this journey, it would be known that:

The Buddha's disciple returned to fulfill his original vow, and the Golden Cicada Elder wrapped himself in sandalwood. That Bodhisattva arrived at the foot of the mountain, where the Gold-Tipped Great Immortal of the Jade Truth Temple met her at the temple gate and invited her in for tea. The Bodhisattva dared not linger long, saying, "I have now received the Tathagata's decree to go to the Eastern Land to seek the scripture pilgrim." The Great Immortal asked, "When will the scripture pilgrim arrive?" The Bodhisattva replied, "It is not yet fixed; perhaps in two or three years he may reach this place." Then she took leave of the Great Immortal and, half cloud and half mist, roughly marked the journey in her mind. There is a poem as testimony. The poem says:

Seeking from ten thousand miles, one speaks not a word,

Yet who can say their wishes are fully attained?

Seeking help from others suddenly seems like this,

In my life, could this be by mere chance?

To transmit the Way with method becomes idle talk,

To explain without trust is but empty rumor.

I wish to pour out my heart to find an acquaintance,

I expect that ahead there must be karmic ties.

As the master and disciple were walking, they suddenly saw the Weak Water stretching three thousand miles, which was the boundary of the Flowing Sands River. The Bodhisattva said, "Disciple, this place is truly hard to cross. The scripture pilgrim, with his mortal bones and common flesh, how can he get across?" Hui'an said, "Master, look how far the river extends?" The Bodhisattva halted her cloud steps and looked, and saw:

East it joins the sandy wastes, west it reaches the various barbarian lands, south it leads to Wuge, north it connects to Tatar. The span is eight hundred miles across, and up and down it stretches for ten thousand miles. The flowing water is like the earth turning over, and the rolling waves seem like mountains arching their backs. Vast and boundless, spreading and endless, for ten miles one hears a great flood of ten thousand fathoms. The immortals' raft can hardly reach this place, and even a lotus leaf cannot float. Withering grass lies by the winding banks under the slanting sun, and yellow clouds shadow the sun, darkening the long dikes. Where are merchants and travelers to be seen? Where have fishermen ever made their home? No wild geese alight on the level sands, and on the distant shores only apes cry. Only the red knotweed in profusion marks the scenery, and the fine fragrance of white duckweed drifts freely.

As the Bodhisattva was observing, suddenly there was a loud splash in the river, and a demon leaped out from the waves, extremely ugly. He was born:

His face neither green nor black, a sallow complexion; his body neither long nor short, barefoot with sinewy limbs. His eyes flashed like twin lamps beneath a stove; the corners of his mouth were split wide, like a butcher's brazier. Fangs protruded like sword blades, and his red hair was disheveled. With a shout like thunder, he roared, and his two feet ran like rolling wind.

That monster grasped a precious staff, came ashore, and tried to seize the Bodhisattva, but Hui'an blocked him with his iron staff and shouted, "Stop!" The monster then raised his staff to meet him. The two of them fought fiercely by the Flowing Sands River, truly terrifying:

Muzha's iron staff,

The guardian displayed his divine power;

The monster's demon-subduing staff,

He strove with all his might to show his prowess.

Two silver pythons danced by the river,

A pair of divine monks charged on the bank.

One, mighty in the Flowing Sands, displayed his skill;

The other, protecting Guanyin, achieved great merit.

One churned waves and leaped through billows,

The other spewed mist and blew wind.

Churning waves and leaping billows darkened heaven and earth,

Spewing mist and blowing wind dimmed the sun and moon.

That demon-subduing staff,

Was like a white tiger leaving the mountain;

This iron staff,

Was like a yellow dragon lying on the path.

When one wielded it, it was like seeking a snake by parting the grass;

When the other swung it, it was like striking a hawk and splitting a pine.

They fought until all was dim,

The stars shining brightly;

Mist rose thickly,

Heaven and earth blurred.

That one, long dwelling in the Weak Water, was the fiercest;

This one, first leaving Spirit Mountain, earned his foremost merit.

The two of them came and went, fighting dozens of rounds without either gaining the upper hand. The monster blocked the iron staff and said, "What monk are you, who dares to fight with me?" Muzha said, "I am the second prince of the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King, Muzha Hui'an, the pilgrim. Now I am protecting my master as she goes east to seek the scripture pilgrim. What monster are you, who dares to block the way?" Only then did the monster realize and say, "I remember that you were cultivating in the Purple Bamboo Forest with Guanyin of the Southern Sea. Why have you come here?" Muzha said, "Isn't my master on the shore?"

When the monster heard these words, he repeatedly assented and put away his treasure staff. He let Mokṣa seize him and bring him before Guanyin, where he prostrated himself and said, “Bodhisattva, forgive my offense, and let me explain: I am not a demon or evil spirit. I was the Curtain-lifting General in attendance on the imperial chariot beneath the Hall of Divine Mists. Only because, during the Peach Banquet, I accidentally dropped and shattered a crystal goblet, the Jade Emperor had me beaten eight hundred strokes and banished me to the mortal realm, where I became this hideous form. He also commanded that every seven days a flying sword should pierce my chest and ribs a hundred times before returning. Thus I suffer this misery. With no other recourse, unable to bear hunger and cold, every two or three days I emerge from the waves to find a traveler for food. I never expected that today, in my ignorance, I would offend the Great Merciful Bodhisattva.”

The Bodhisattva said, “You were guilty in Heaven, and having been banished, you now commit such slaughter—this is truly adding crime to crime. I have now received the Buddha’s decree to go to the Eastern Land to find the scripture-seeking pilgrim. Why not enter my gate, take refuge in good karma, become a disciple to that scripture seeker, and go to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures? I will order the flying sword not to pierce you. When that time comes, your merit will be accomplished, your guilt pardoned, and your former office restored. What do you think?”

The monster said, “I wish to take refuge in the true fruit.” He then advanced and said, “Bodhisattva, I have devoured countless people here. In the past, several scripture seekers came, and I ate them all. The heads of those I ate, I cast into the Flowing Sands, and they sank to the riverbed. In this water, even a goose feather cannot float. Only the skulls of nine scripture seekers float on the surface, never sinking. I thought them strange objects, so I strung them together on a cord and play with them in my idle moments. Now, if I go with you, I fear the scripture seeker may never arrive here—would that not ruin my prospects?”

The Bodhisattva said, “How could he fail to arrive? You may hang those skulls around your neck and await the scripture seeker; they will prove useful.” The monster said, “If that is so, I am willing to receive your instruction.” The Bodhisattva then performed the ceremony of anointing his crown and conferring the precepts. Pointing to the sand, she gave him the surname Sha, and bestowed a monastic name: Śramaṇa Wu-jing. At that moment, he entered the Sangha. He escorted the Bodhisattva across the river, washed his heart clean of all defilement, and resolved never again to harm living beings, waiting solely for the scripture seeker.

The Bodhisattva parted from him and, together with Mokṣa, sped straight toward the Eastern Land. After traveling some distance, they came upon a high mountain, where a baleful aura shrouded the peak, preventing them from ascending on foot. Just as they were about to ride a cloud over the mountain, a whirlwind arose, and a demon flashed into view. His appearance was exceedingly fierce and sinister. Behold him:

His bristly mane like a lotus pod, his pendulous lips;

Ears like palm-leaf fans, and golden eyes gleaming.

Fangs sharp as steel files,

His wide mouth opened like a brazier.

A golden helmet tightly bound with cheek-straps,

His armor’s silk cords like a python shedding scales.

In his hand, a rake like a dragon’s claws,

At his waist, a curved bow like the half-moon.

With bristling majesty he overawed the Taisui stars,

His soaring spirit overbore the gods.

He rushed forward, without regard for good or ill, and raised his rake to strike at the Bodhisattva. Mokṣa the Novice blocked him, shouting loudly, “You reckless fiend, have you no manners? Watch my staff!” The demon said, “This monk knows not life or death. Watch my rake!” The two clashed at the mountain’s base, charging and colliding, contending for victory. Truly a splendid battle:

The demon was ferocious, Mokṣa was mighty.

The iron staff struck at the heart,

The nine-toothed rake met it face to face.

They stirred up dust and earth, darkening heaven and earth;

Flying sand and rolling stones terrified ghosts and spirits.

The nine-toothed rake, dazzling bright, its twin rings clanging;

A single staff, black and somber, whirled in both hands.

One was the Heavenly King’s son,

The other a marshal turned spirit.

One served as guardian at Potalaka,

The other made his lair in a mountain cave.

This encounter, a contest of high and low,

None could tell who would lose and who would win.

As the two were locked in combat at its height, Guanyin, from midair, tossed down a lotus flower, which separated the rake and staff. The monster, startled, asked, “What monk are you, daring to trick me with such a conjured flower in front of my eyes?” Mokṣa said, “I call you a coarse, blind-eyed wretch! I am a disciple of the Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea. This lotus flower was cast by my master—can you not recognize it?” The demon said, “The Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea—is that Guanyin, who dispels the three calamities and rescues from the eight difficulties?” Mokṣa said, “Who else could it be?” The monster cast aside his rake, bowed low in salute, and said, “Elder brother, where is the Bodhisattva? May I trouble you to introduce me?” Mokṣa pointed upward and said, “Is that not she?” The monster knocked his head on the ground and cried out loudly, “Bodhisattva, forgive my offense, forgive my offense.”

Guanyin pressed down her cloud and came forward to ask, "What wild boar are you, who has become a spirit here, or what old pig, who has turned into a monster, that you dare block my way?" The monster said, "I am no wild boar, nor am I an old pig. I was originally the Marshal Tianpeng in the Heavenly River. Because I drunkenly teased the goddess Chang'e, the Jade Emperor struck me two thousand times with a hammer and banished me to the mortal world. My true spirit came directly to seize a body and be reborn, but unexpectedly I took the wrong path and was born into a sow's womb, becoming this shape. I bit the sow to death, killed the whole litter of pigs, took over this mountain, and survive by eating people. I never expected to run into the Bodhisattva; I earnestly beg for your deliverance." The Bodhisattva said, "What is this mountain called?" The monster said, "It is called Fuling Mountain. In the mountain there is a cave called Yunzhan Cave. In the cave there was originally a woman named Luan'er, who, seeing I had some martial skills, took me as her husband, which is also called a reverse marriage. In less than a year, she died, and all the possessions of the cave became mine to enjoy. I have been here for many years, with no means of support, so I merely follow my old ways and survive by eating people. I earnestly beg the Bodhisattva to forgive my sins." The Bodhisattva said, "The ancients said, 'If you want a future, do nothing that ruins your future.' Since you violated the laws of Heaven above, and now do not change your vicious heart, killing living beings and creating karma, is this not committing two crimes and being punished for both?" The monster said, "Future, future—if I follow you, will you have me drink the wind? As the saying goes, 'Follow the officials' law and be beaten to death; follow the Buddha's law and starve to death.' Away, away! Better to catch a traveler and eat him nice and greasy—what do I care about two crimes, three crimes, a thousand crimes, ten thousand crimes?" The Bodhisattva said, "'If a man has good intentions, Heaven will surely follow him.' If you are willing to return to the true path, there will naturally be a place to sustain yourself. The world has the five grains to relieve hunger; why must you eat people to survive?"

When the monster heard these words, it was as if he had just awakened from a dream. He said to the Bodhisattva, "I wish to return to the right path, but 'having already offended Heaven, what use is it to pray?'" The Bodhisattva said, "I have received the Buddha's decree to go to the Great Tang in the East to seek a scripture pilgrim. You can become his disciple, make a journey to the West, atone for your crimes, and I guarantee you will escape this calamity." The monster agreed wholeheartedly, saying, "I am willing to follow, I am willing to follow." Only then did the Bodhisattva anoint his crown and administer the precepts. Pointing to the hair on his body to determine his surname, she gave him the surname Zhu. She also gave him a Dharma name, called Zhu Wuneng. Then he received the command, returned to the right path, took up vegetarianism and kept the precepts, renounced the five pungent vegetables and the three forbidden meats, and waited specifically for the scripture pilgrim.

The Bodhisattva then took leave of Wuneng together with Mokṣa, and continued their journey half-cloud, half-mist. As they traveled, they saw a jade dragon in the sky calling out. The Bodhisattva approached and asked, "Which dragon are you, suffering here?" The dragon said, "I am the son of Ao Run, the Dragon King of the Western Sea. Because I set fire to a bright pearl on the palace hall in my recklessness, my father reported me to Heaven, accusing me of unfilial rebellion. The Jade Emperor hung me in the air, struck me three hundred times, and I am soon to be executed. I beg the Bodhisattva to save me."

Upon hearing this, Guanyin immediately entered the Southern Heavenly Gate with Mokṣa. There they were met by the two celestial masters, Qiu and Zhang, who asked, "Where are you going?" The Bodhisattva said, "I wish to see the Jade Emperor." The two masters quickly reported this. The Jade Emperor then descended from his hall to receive her. After the Bodhisattva had performed the customary salutations, she said, "I have received the Buddha's decree to go to the East to seek a scripture pilgrim. On the way, I encountered this sinful dragon hanging here. I have come specially to petition you, begging you to spare his life and grant him to me, so that he may serve as a mount for the scripture pilgrim." When the Jade Emperor heard this, he immediately issued an edict of pardon, sending a heavenly general to untie the ropes and deliver the dragon to the Bodhisattva. The Bodhisattva gave thanks and withdrew. This little dragon kowtowed in gratitude for the mercy of having his life saved and submitted to the Bodhisattva's command. The Bodhisattva sent him into a deep ravine to wait for the scripture pilgrim, when he would transform into a white horse and go to the West to earn merit. The little dragon received the command and lay hidden, to be mentioned no further.

The Bodhisattva, together with the disciple Mokṣa, crossed this mountain and continued on their way to the East. Before long, they suddenly saw ten thousand beams of golden light and a thousand wisps of auspicious vapor. Mokṣa said, "Master, that place where the light shines is the Five Elements Mountain. The Buddha's suppression seal is there." The Bodhisattva said, "That is the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, who disrupted the Peach Festival and caused great havoc in Heaven. He is now pressed down there." Mokṣa said, "Yes, indeed." The master and disciple both ascended the mountain to view the seal. On it were the six syllables of the true mantra: "Om Mani Padme Hum." After the Bodhisattva had finished viewing it, she sighed deeply and composed a poem. The poem said:

How truly pitiable this monkey, unruly and unbound,

In his arrogance he once vaunted his might beyond.

With deceitful heart he wrecked the Peach Festival fair,

In reckless daring he stole into the Tushita Palace there.

Among Heaven's hundred thousand troops, he had no peer,

Displaying his prowess in the Ninth Heaven's sphere.

But since trapped by our Tathagata Buddha's hand,

When will he stretch forth and merit again command?

As the master and disciple were speaking, they soon roused the Great Sage. The Great Sage called out from beneath the mountain's base, in a loud voice, "Who is it on the mountain peak reciting poetry and exposing my faults?" Upon hearing this, the Bodhisattva went directly down the mountain to investigate. There, beneath the stone cliff, the local spirits and mountain gods, along with the heavenly generals guarding the Great Sage, all came to pay respects and welcome the Bodhisattva, leading her before the Great Sage. When she looked, he was pressed inside a stone casket. His mouth could speak, but his body could not move. The Bodhisattva said, "Hey, Sun, do you recognize me?" The Great Sage opened his fiery golden eyes, nodded his head, and called out in a loud voice, "How could I not recognize you? You are none other than the Nanwu Guan Shi Yin Bodhisattva of the Potalaka Mountain in the South Sea, the one who saves from suffering and grants mercy. I am beholden to you for your care, beholden to you for your care. Here, each day feels like a year, and there is no one who comes to look at me. Where have you come from?" The Bodhisattva said, "I have received the Buddha's decree to go to the East to seek a scripture pilgrim. Passing by this place, I purposely stopped to see you." The Great Sage said, "The Tathagata deceived me and pressed me under this mountain. Five hundred years have passed, and I cannot stretch or struggle free. I earnestly beg the Bodhisattva to do a good turn and save me, old Sun." The Bodhisattva said, "You have too deep a burden of sin. If I save you, I fear you will create more calamities, which would be unfortunate." The Great Sage said, "I already know regret. I only wish the great merciful one would show me a path. I am willing to cultivate virtue." At this moment:

When a thought arises in a man's heart,

All of Heaven and Earth are aware.

If good and evil go without recompense,

Then Heaven and Earth must have a private care.

When the Bodhisattva heard these words, she was filled with joy and said to the Great Sage, “The sage’s scriptures say: ‘If words are good, they will be answered from a thousand miles away; if words are not good, they will be opposed from a thousand miles away.’ Since you have this intention, wait until I reach the Eastern Land of the Great Tang, find a scripture seeker to come, and have him rescue you. You can become his disciple, reverently follow the teachings and observe the precepts, enter our Buddha’s gate, and again cultivate the true fruit. How would that be?” The Great Sage repeated, “I am willing to go, I am willing to go.” The Bodhisattva said, “Since you now have a good outcome, I will give you a Dharma name.” The Great Sage said, “I already have a name; it is Sun Wukong.” The Bodhisattva said joyfully, “Earlier I had two others submit, precisely following the generation name ‘Wu.’ Now you are also of the ‘Wu’ character, which matches them. Very good, very good. Then there is no need for many further instructions. I will go.” That Great Sage, having seen his nature and clarified his mind, took refuge in the Buddha’s teachings; this Bodhisattva, with a focused mind and careful attention, went to seek a divine monk.

She and Mokṣa left this place and journeyed straight east. In a few days they arrived at the Great Tang country of Chang’an. They gathered in their clouds and mist; the master and disciple transformed into two mangy, scab-covered wandering monks, entered Chang’an city, and before they knew it, evening had fallen. Walking by the side of the main market street, they saw a temple of the local Earth God. The two of them went straight in. This so terrified the Earth God that his heart was flustered, and the ghost soldiers were alarmed and fearful. Knowing it was the Bodhisattva, they kowtowed and welcomed her inside. The Earth God then hastily went to report to the City God, the Village God, and all the various temple deities throughout Chang’an. They all knew it was the Bodhisattva, came to pay respects, and reported, “Bodhisattva, please forgive us gods for the crime of being late in receiving you.” The Bodhisattva said, “You must not leak the slightest news. I have received the decree of the Buddha and have come specially to seek the scripture seeker. Borrow your temple for a few days’ stay; when I have found the true monk, I will return.” The various deities each returned to their own abodes, and the Earth God was driven to lodge temporarily in the City God’s temple. The master and disciple hid their true forms.

We do not yet know which scripture seeker will be found; listen to the explanation in the next chapter.