Journey to the West (vol. 1)

Chapter 16

The Monks of the Guanyin Monastery Plot to Take the Treasure

The Monster of the Black Wind Mountain Steals the Cassock

The master whipped on his horse and hurried straight to the temple gate with his disciple to have a look. They saw that it was indeed a monastery:

Hall upon hall,

Cloister after cloister.

Beyond the triple gates

Countless coloured clouds are massed;

Before the Hall of Five Blessings

Coil a thousand wisps of red mist.

Two rows of pine and bamboo,

A forest of locust and cypress trees.

The two rows of pine and bamboo

Are ageless in their elegant purity;

The forest of locust and cypress trees

Has color and beauty.

See how high the drum and bell towers are,

How tall the pagoda.

In peaceful mediation the monks make firm their natures,

As birds sing in the trees outside.

Peace beyond mortal dust is the only true peace;

Emptiness with the Way is the real emptiness.

As the poem goes,

A supreme Jetavana hidden in a green valley,

A monastery set in scenery unbeaten in the world.

Such pure lands are rare on earth;

On most of the famous mountains dwell monks.

Sanzang dismounted, Monkey laid down his burden, and they were just on the point of going in when a crowd of monks came out. This is how they were dressed:

On their heads they wore hats pinned on the left,

On their bodies were clothes of purity.

Copper rings hung from their ears,

And silken belts were tied around their waists.

Slowly they walked on sandals of straw,

As they held wooden clappers in their hands.

With their mouths they were always chanting

Their devotion to the Wisdom.

When Sanzang saw them he stood respectfully beside the gate and greeted them. A monk hastily returned his greeting and apologized for not noticing them before.

“Where are you from?” he asked, “please come to the abbot's rooms and have some tea.”

“I have been sent from the East on an imperial mission to worship the Buddha in the Thunder Monastery and ask for the scriptures,” Sanzang replied, “and as it is almost night we would like to ask for a night's lodging now that we are here.”

“Come inside and sit down, come inside and sit down,” the monk said. When Sanzang told Monkey to lead the horse over, the monk was frightened at the sudden sight of him and asked, “What's that thing leading the horse?”

“Keep your voice down,” Sanzang urged, “keep your voice down. He has a quick temper, and if he hears you referring to him as 'that thing,' he'll be furious. He's my disciple.”

The monk shuddered and bit his finger as he remarked, “Fancy taking a monstrously ugly creature like that for a disciple.”

“He may not look it,” Sanzang replied, “but ugly as he is, he has his uses.”

The monk had no choice but to go through the monastery gate with Sanzang and Monkey, and inside they saw the words CHAN MONASTERY OF GUANYIN written in large letters on the main hall. Sanzang was delighted.

“I have often been the grateful beneficiary of the Bodhisattva's divine mercy,” he exclaimed, “but I have not yet been able to kowtow to her in thanks. To worship her in this monastery will be just as good as seeing her in person.” On hearing this, the monk, ordering a lay brother to open the doors, invited Sanzang to go in and worship. Monkey tethered the horse, put the luggage down, and went up into the hall with Sanzang, who prostrated himself and put his head on the floor before the golden statue. When the monk went to beat the drum, Monkey started striking the bell. Sanzang lay before the image, praying with all his heart, and when he had finished the monk stopped beating the drum. Monkey, however, was so engrossed in striking the bell, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, that he went on for a very long time.

“He's finished his devotions,” a lay brother said, “so what are you still beating the bell for?”

Monkey threw down the bell hammer and said with a grin, “You're ignorant, aren't you? 'Whoever is a monk for a day strikes the bell for a day': that's me.” By then all the monks in the monastery, senior and junior, as well as the abbot and his assistant, had been so startled by the wild noises from the bell that they all came crowding out to ask what savage was making such a din with the bell and drum. Monkey jumped out and cursed them: “Your grandfather Sun Wukong was having some fun.”

All the monks collapsed with shock at the sight of him and said as they knelt on the ground, “Lord Thunder God, Lord Thunder God.”

“The Thunder God is my great grandson,” Monkey replied. “Get up, get up, you've nothing to fear. I'm a lord from the land of the Great Tang empire in the East.” The monks all bowed to him, and could not feel easy until Sanzang appeared.

“Please come and drink tea in my rooms,” said the abbot of the monastery. The horse was unloaded and led off, while they went round the main hall to a room at the back where they sat down according to their seniority.

The abbot gave them tea and arranged for food to be brought, and after the meal it was still early. As Sanzang was expressing his thanks, two servant boys appeared behind them supporting an aged monk. This is what he looked like:

A Vairocana miter on his head

Topped with a gleaming cat's-eye jewel.

On his body a gown of brocade,

Edged with gold-mounted kingfisher feathers.

A pair of monkish shoes studded with the Eight Treasures,

A walking stick inlaid with Clouds and stars.

A face covered with wrinkles,

Like the Old Goddess of Mount Li;

A pair of purblind eyes,

Like the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea.

His mouth can't keep out the wind as his teeth have gone;

His back is bent because his muscles are stiff.

“The Patriarch has come,” the monks all said. Sanzang bowed low to him in greeting and said, “Your disciple pays his respects, venerable abbot.” The aged monk returned his greeting and they both sat down.

“The youngsters have just told me that gentlemen have come from the Tang Empire in the East,” he said, “so I have come out to see you.”

“Please forgive us for blundering into your monastery so rudely,” Sanzang replied.

“Don't put it like that,” the aged monk said, going on to ask, “How long a journey is it from the Eastern lands to here?”

“It was over sixteen hundred miles from Chang'an to the Double Boundary Mountain, where I took on this disciple,” Sanzang replied. “We traveled on together through the land of Kami, and as that took two months we must have covered getting on for another two thousand miles before reaching here.”

“Over three thousand miles,” said the aged monk. “I have spent a life of piety and have never been outside the monastery gates, so you could really say that I have been 'looking at heaven from the bottom of a well,' and call mine a wasted life.”

“How great is your age, venerable abbot?” Sanzang asked.

“In my stupid way I have lived to be two hundred and seventy,” the old monk replied.

“Then you're my ten-thousandth-great grandson,” put in Monkey.

“Talk properly,” said Sanzang, glaring at him, “Don't be so disrespectful and rude.”

“How old are you, sir?” the aged monk asked.

“I don't venture to mention it,” Monkey replied. The aged monk then thought that he must have been raving, so he put the matter out of his mind, said no more about it, and ordered tea to be brought for them. A young page brought in three cloisonne teacups on a jade tray the color of mutton fat, and another carried in a white alloy teapot from which he poured out three cups of fragrant tea. It had a better color than pomegranate blossom, and its aroma was finer than cassia. When Sanzang saw all this he was full of praise.

“What splendid things,” he said, “what splendid things. Wonderful tea in wonderful vessels.”

“They're not worth looking at,” the old monk replied. “After all, sir, you come from a superior and heavenly court, and have seen many rare things in your wide travels; so how can you give such exaggerated praise to things like that? What treasures did you bring with you from your superior country that I could have a look at?”

“I'm afraid our Eastern land has no great treasures, and even if it did, I would have been unable to bring them on so long a journey.”

“Master,” put in Monkey, who was sitting beside him, “isn't that cassock I saw in our bundle the other day a treasure? Why don't I take it out for him to see?” When the monks heard him mention the cassock, they smiled sinister smiles.

“What are you smiling at?” Monkey asked.

“We thought it was very funny when you said that a cassock was a treasure,” the abbot of the monastery replied. “A priest of my rank has two or three dozen, and our Patriarch, who has been a monk here for two hundred and fifty or sixty years, has seven or eight hundred.” He ordered them to be brought out and displayed. The old monk, who was also in on the game, told the lay brothers to open the store-rooms, while friars carried twelve chests out into the courtyard, and unlocked them. Then they set up clothes frames, put rope all around, shook the cassocks open one by one, and hung them up for Sanzang to see. Indeed, the whole building was full of brocade, and the four walls covered with silk.

Monkey examined them one by one and saw that some were made of brocade and some were embroidered with gold.

“Enough, enough, enough,” he said. “Put them away, put them away. I'll bring ours out for you to take a look at.”

Sanzang drew Monkey aside and whispered to him, “Disciple, never try to compete with other people's wealth, you and I are alone in this foreign land, and I'm afraid that there may be trouble.”

“What trouble can come from letting him look at the cassock?” Monkey asked.

“You don't understand,” Sanzang replied. “The ancients used to say, 'Don't let greedy and treacherous men see rare or amusing things.' If he lays his eyes on it, his mind will be disturbed, and if his mind is disturbed, he's bound to start scheming. If you were cautious, you would only have let him see it if he'd insisted; but as it is, this is no trifling matter, and may well be the end of us.”

“Don't worry, don't worry,” said Brother Monkey, “I'll look after everything.” Watch as without another word of argument he rushes off and opens the bundle, which is already giving off a radiant glow. It still had two layers of oiled paper round it, and when he removed it to take out the cassock and shake it open the hall was bathed in red light and clouds of coloured vapours filled the courtyard. When the monks saw it their hearts were filled with delight and their mouths with praise. It really was a fine cassock.

Hung with pearls of unrivalled quality,

Studded with Buddhist treasures infinitely rare.

Above and below a dragon beard sparkles,

On grass-cloth edged with brocade.

If it is worn, all demons are extinguished;

When donned it sends all monsters down to hell.

It was made by the hands of heavenly Immortals,

And none but a true monk should dare put it on.

When the aged monk saw how rare a treasure it was, his heart was indeed disturbed. He went up to Sanzang and knelt before him. “My fate is indeed a wretched one,” he lamented, tears pouring down his cheeks. Sanzang helped him to his feet again and asked, “Why do you say that, venerable patriarch?”

“You have unfolded this treasure of yours, sir,” the aged monk replied, “when it is already evening, so that my eyes are too dim to see it clearly. That is why I say my fate is wretched.”

“Send for a candle and take another look,” Sanzang suggested.

“My lord, your precious cassock is already shining brightly, so I don't think I would see more distinctly even if a candle were lit,” replied the aged monk.

“How would you like to look at it then?” asked Sanzang.

“If, sir, you were in your mercy to set aside your fears and let me take it to my room to examine it closely during the night, I will return it to you in the morning to take to the West. What do you say to that?” This request startled Sanzang, who grumbled at Brother Monkey, “It's all your fault, all your fault.”

“He's nothing to be frightened of.” Monkey replied with a grin. “I'll pack it up and tell him to take it away to look at. If anything goes wrong, I'll be responsible.”

As there was nothing he could do to stop him, Sanzang handed the cassock to the old monk with the words, “I'll let you take it, but you must give it back to me tomorrow morning in the condition it's in now. I won't have you getting it at all dirty.”

The old monk gleefully told a page to take the cassock to his room, and instructed the other monks to sweep out the front meditation hall, move two rattan beds in, spread out the bedding on them, and invite the two gentlemen to spend the night there; he also arranged for them to be given breakfast and seen off the next morning. Then everyone went off to bed. Sanzang and his disciple shut the doors of the meditation hall and went to sleep.

After the old monk had tricked them into giving him the cassock, he held it under the lamp in the back room as he wept and wailed over it. This so alarmed the monks that none of them dared go to sleep before he did. The young page, not knowing what to do, went to tell the other monks, “Grandad's still crying although it's getting on for eleven.” Two junior monks, who were among the old man's favorites, went over to ask him why he was crying.

“I'm crying because my accursed fate won't allow me to see the Tang Priest's treasure,” he said; to which they replied, “Grandad, in your old age you have succeeded. His cassock is laid before you, and all you have to do is open your eyes and look. There's no need for tears.”

“But I can't look at it for long,” the aged monk answered. “I'm two hundred and seventy this year, and I've collected all those hundreds of cassocks for nothing. However am I to get hold of that one of his? However am I to become like the Tang priest?”

“Master, you've got it all wrong,” the junior monks said. “The Tang Priest is a pilgrim far from home. You should be satisfied with your great seniority and wealth; why ever would you want to be a pilgrim like him?”

“Although I live at home and enjoy my declining years, I've got no cassock like his to wear,” the aged monk replied. “If I could wear it for a day, I would close my eyes in peace. I'd be as happy as if I were a monk in my next life.”

“What nonsense,” the junior monks said. “If you want to wear his cassock, there'll be no problem about that. We'll keep him for another day tomorrow, and you can wear it for another day. Or we can keep him for ten days and you can wear it for ten days. So why get so upset about it?”

“Even if we kept him for a year,” the old monk replied, “I'd only be able to wear it for a year, which wouldn't bring me any glory. I'll still have to give it to him when he went: I can't keep him here for ever.”

As they were talking a young monk called Broad Wisdom spoke out. “Grandad,” he said, “if you want it for a long time, that's easy to arrange too.”

“What brilliant idea have you got, child?” the aged monk asked, cheering up.

“That Tang Priest and his disciple were so exhausted after their journey that they are both asleep by now,” Broad Wisdom replied. If we arm some strong monks with swords and spears to break into the meditation hall and kill them, they can be buried in the back garden, and nobody but us will be any the wiser. This way we get their white horse and their luggage as well as the cassock, which will become an heirloom of the monastery. We would be doing this for posterity.” The old monk was very pleased with this suggestion, and he wiped the tears from his eyes as he said, “Very good, very good, a marvellous plan.”

Another young monk called Broad Plans, a fellow-student of Broad Wisdom's, came froward and said, “This plan's no good. If we are to kill them, we'll have to keep a sharp eye on them. That old pale-faced one looks easy enough, but the hairy-faced one could be tricky; and if by any chance we fail to kill him, we'll be in deep trouble. I have a way that doesn't involve using weapons, but I don't know what you'll think of it.”

“What do you suggest, my child?” the aged monk asked.

“In my humble opinion,” he replied, “we should assemble the head monks of all the cells, senior and junior, and get everyone to put a bundle of firewood outside the meditation hall. When it's set alight, those two will have no escape, and will be burnt to death together with their horse. Even if the people who live around this mountain see the blaze, they'll think that those two burnt down the mediation hall by carelessly starting a fire. This way they'll both be burnt to death and nobody will know how it happened. Then the cassock will become our monastery's treasure for ever.” All the monks present were pleased with this suggestion, exclaiming, “Great, great, great; an even better plan.” The head of every cell was told to bring firewood, a scheme that was to bring death to the venerable and aged monk, and reduce the Guanyin Monastery to ashes. Now there were seventy or eighty cells in the monastery, and over two hundred junior and senior monks. They shifted firewood all night, piled it up all round the meditation hall so that there was no way out, and prepared to set it alight.

Although Sanzang and he had gone to bed, the magical Monkey's spirit remained alert and his eyes half open even when he was asleep. His suspicions were aroused by the sound of people moving around outside and the rustling of firewood in the breeze. “Why can I hear footsteps in the still of the night?” he wondered. “Perhaps bandits are planning to murder us.” He leaped out of bed, and was on the point of opening the door to take a look when he remembered that this might disturb his master, so instead he used his miraculous powers to turn himself into a bee with a shake of his body.

Sweet his mouth and venomous his tail,

Slender his waist and light his body.

He flew like an arrow, threading through willows and flowers,

Seeking their nectar like a shooting star.

A tiny body that could bear great weights,

Carried on the breeze by his frail and buzzing wings.

Thus did he emerge from under the rafters,

Going out to take a look.

He saw that the monks had piled firewood and straw all around the meditation hall and were setting it alight. Smiling to himself he thought, “So my master was right. This is their idea. They want to kill us and keep our cassock. I wish I could lay into them with my cudgel. If only I wasn't forbidden to use it, I could kill the lot of them; but the master would only be angry with me for murdering them. Too bad. I'll just have to take my chances as they come, and finish them off.”

The splendid Monkey leapt in through the Southern Gate of Heaven with a single somersault, startling the heavenly warriors Pang, Liu, Gou and Bi into bowing, and Ma, Zhao, Wen and Guan into bending low as they all said, “Oh no, oh no! The fellow who turned Heaven upside down is here again.”

“There's no need to stand on courtesy or be alarmed, gentlemen,” said Monkey with a wave of his hand, “I've come to find the Broad-Visioned Heavenly King.”

Before the words were out of his mouth the Heavenly King was there and greeting Monkey with, “Haven't seen you for ages. I heard the other day that the Bodhisattva Guanyin came to see the Jade Emperor to borrow the four Duty Gods, the Six Dings and Jias and the Revealers of the Truth to look after the Tang Priest on his pilgrimage to the Western Heaven to fetch the scriptures. They were also saying that you were his disciple, so how is it that you have the spare time to come here?”

“Let's cut the cackle,” said Monkey. “The Tang priest has run into some villains who have started a fire to burn him to death. It's very urgent, which is why I've come to ask you for the loan of your Anti-fire Cover to save him with. Fetch it at once; I'll bring it straight back.”

“You've got it all wrong,” the Heavenly King replied. “If villains are trying to burn him, you should rescue him with water. What do you need my Anti-fire Cover for?”

“You don't understand,” Monkey continued. “If I try to save him with water, he may still be hurt even if he isn't burnt up. I can only keep him free from injury if you lend me that cover; and with that it doesn't matter how much burning they do. Buck up, buck up! It may be too late already. Don't mess up what I've got to do down there.”

“You monkey,” said the Heavenly King with a laugh, “You're as wicked as ever, thinking only of yourself and never of others.”

“Hurry up, hurry up,” Monkey pleaded. “You'll ruin everything if you go on nattering.” The Heavenly King, no longer able to refuse, handed the cover to Monkey.

Taking the cover, Monkey pressed down on his cloud and went straight to the roof of the meditation hall, where he spread the cover over the Tang Priest, the dragon horse, and the luggage. Then he went to sit on top of the aged monk's room to protect the cassock. As he watched them starting the fire he kept on reciting a spell and blew some magic breath towards the Southwest, at which a wind arose and fanned the flames up into a wild and roaring blaze. What a fire!

Spreading black smoke,

Leaping red flames;

The spreading black smoke blotted out all the stars in the sky,

The leaping red flames made the earth glow red for hundreds of miles.

When it started

It was a gleaming golden snake;

Later on

It was a spirited horse.

The Three Spirits of the South showed their might,

The Fire God Huilu wielded his magic power,

The bone-dry kindling burned ferociously,

As when the Emperor Suiren drilled wood to start a fire.

Flames leapt up from the boiling oil before the doors,

Brighter than when Lord Lao Zi opens his furnace.

As the cruel fire spreads,

What can stop this willful murder?

Instead of dealing with the disaster

They abetted it.

As the wind fanned the fire.

The flames flew many miles high;

As the fire grew in the might of the wind,

Sparks burst through the Nine Heavens.

Cracking and banging,

Like firecrackers at the end of the year;

Popping and bursting,

Like cannon-fire in battle.

None of the Buddha statues could escape the blaze,

And the guardian gods in the Eastern court had nowhere to hide.

It was fiercer that the fire-attack at Red Cliff,

Or the burning of the Epang Palace.

A single spark can start a prairie fire. In a few moments the raging wind had blown the fire up into an inferno, and the whole Guanyin Monastery was red. Look at the monks as they move away boxes and baskets, grabbing tables and carrying cooking-pots on their heads. The whole monastery was full of the sound of shouting and weeping. Brother Monkey protected the abbot's rooms at the back, and the Anti-fire Cover covered the meditation hall in front; everywhere else the fire raged, its red flames reflected in the sky and its dazzling brightness shining through the wall.

When the fire broke out, all the animals and devils of the mountain were disturbed. Seven miles due South of the Guanyin Monastery was the Black Wind Mountain, on which there was a Black Wind Cave. In this cave a monster awoke and sat up. Seeing light streaming in through his window, he thought it must be dawn, but when he got up to take a better look he saw a fire blazing to the North.

“Blimey,” the monster exclaimed with astonishment, “those careless monks must have set the Guanyin Monastery on fire. I'd better go and help them.” The good monster leapt off on a cloud and went down below the smoke and flames that reached up to the sky. The front halls were all empty, and the fire was burning bright in the cloisters on either side. He rushed forward with long strides and was just calling for water when he noticed that the rooms at the back were not burning as there was someone on the roof keeping the wind away. The moment he realized this and rushed in to look, he saw a magic glow and propitious vapours coming from a black felt bundle on the table. On opening it he found it contained a brocade cassock that was a rare treasure of the Buddhist religion. His mind disturbed by the sight of this valuable object, he forgot about putting out the fire or calling for water and grabbed the cassock, which he made off with in the general confusion. Then he went straight back to his cave by cloud.

The fire blazed on till dawn before burning itself out. The undraped monks howled and wailed as they searched through the ashes for bronze and iron, and picked over the cinders to find gold and silver. Some of them fixed up thatched shelters in what remained of the frames of the buildings, and others were rigging up pots to cook food at the bases of the exposed walls. We will not describe the weeping, the shouting and the confused hubbub.

Brother Monkey grabbed the Anti-fire Cover, took it back to the Southern Gate of Heaven with a single somersault, and returned it to the Broad-visioned Heavenly King with thanks. “Great Sage,” said the Heavenly King as he accepted it. “You are as good as your word. I was so worried that if you didn't give me back my treasure, I'd never be able to find you and get it off you. Thank goodness you've returned it.”

“Am I the sort of bloke who'd cheat someone to his face?” asked Monkey. “After all, 'If you return a thing properly when you borrow it, it'll be easier to borrow it next time.'”

“As we haven't met for so long, why don't you come into the palace for a while?” said the Heavenly King.

“I'm no longer the man to 'sit on the bench till it rots, talking about the universe,'“ Monkey replied. “I'm too busy now that I have to look after the Tang Monk. Please excuse me.” Leaving with all speed, he went down on his cloud, and saw that the sun was rising as he went straight to the meditation hall, where he shook himself, turned into a bee, and flew in. On reverting to his true form he saw that his master was still sound asleep.

“Master, get up, it's dawn,” he called.

Sanzang woke up, rolled over, and said, “Yes, so it is.” When he had dressed he opened the doors, went outside, and saw the walls reddened and in ruins, and the halls and towers gone. “Goodness,” he exclaimed in great astonishment, “why have the buildings all disappeared? Why is there nothing but reddened walls?”

“You're still asleep,” Monkey replied. “There was a fire last night.”

“Why didn't I know about it?” Sanzang asked.

“I was protecting the meditation hall, and as I could see you were asleep, master, I didn't disturb you,” Monkey replied.

“If you were able to protect the meditation hall, why didn't you put out the fire in the other buildings?” Sanzang asked. Monkey laughed.

“I'll tell you, master. What you predicted actually happened. They fancied that cassock of ours and planned to burn us to death. If I hadn't noticed, we'd be bones and ashes by now.”

“Did they start the fire?” asked Sanzang who was horrified to learn this.

“Who else?” replied Monkey.

“Are you sure that you didn't cook this up because they were rude to you?” Sanzang asked.

“I'm not such a rascal as to do a thing like that,” said Monkey. “Honestly and truly, they started it. Of course, when I saw how vicious they were I didn't help put the blaze out. I helped them with a slight breeze instead.”

“Heavens! Heavens! When a fire starts you should bring water, not wind.”

“You must know the old saying-'If people didn't harm tigers, tigers wouldn't hurt people.' If they hadn't started a fire, I wouldn't have caused a wind.”

“Where's the cassock? Don't say that it's been burnt too.”

“It's all right; it hasn't been burnt. The abbots' cell where it was kept didn't catch fire.”

“I don't care what you say. If it's come to any harm, I'll recite that spell till it kills you.”

“Don't do that,” pleaded Monkey desperately, “I promise to bring that cassock back to you. Wait while I fetch it for you, and then we'll be on our way.” With Sanzang leading the horse, and Monkey carrying the luggage, they went out of the meditation hall and straight to the abbot's lodgings at the back.

When the grief-stricken monks of the monastery suddenly saw master and disciple emerge with horse and luggage from the meditation hall they were terrified out of their wits, and screamed, “Their avenging ghosts have come to demand our lives.”

“What do you mean, avenging ghosts coming to demand your lives?” Monkey shouted. “Give us back our cassock at once.”

The monks all fell to their knees and kowtowed, saying, “Masters, wrongs are always avenged, and debts always have to be paid. If you want lives, it's nothing to do with us; It was the old monk and Broad Plans who cooked up the plot to kill you. Please don't punish us.”

Monkey snorted with anger and roared, “I'll get you, you damned animals. Who asked for anyone's life? Just bring out that cassock and we'll be on our way.”

Two brave men from among the monks said, “Masters, you were burnt to death in the meditation hall, and now you come back to ask for the cassock. Are you men or ghosts?”

“You cattle,” sneered Monkey, “there wasn't any fire. Go and look at the meditation hall and then we'll see what you have to say.” The monks rose to their feet, and when they went forward to look, they saw that there was not even the slightest trace of scorching on the door and the window-frames. The monks, now struck with fear, realized that Sanzang was a divine priest, and Monkey a guardian god.

They all kowtowed to the pair of them and said, “Our eyes are blind. We failed to recognize saints sent down from Heaven. Your cassock is in the abbot's rooms at the back.” Sanzang went past a number of ruined walls and buildings, sighing endlessly, and saw that the abbot's rooms at the back had indeed not been burnt. The monks all rushed in shouting. “Grandad, the Tang priest is a saint, and instead of being burnt to death he's wrecked our home. Bring the cassock out at once and give it back to him.”

Now the old monk had been unable to find the cassock, which coming on top of the destruction of the monastery had him distraught with worry. When the monks asked him for it, he was unable to reply. Seeing no way out of his quandary, he bent his head down and dashed it against the wall. He smashed his skull open and expired as his blood poured all over the floor. There are some verses about it:

Alas that the aged monk in his folly

Lived so long a life for nothing.

He wanted the cassock as an heirloom for the monastery.

Forgetting that what is Buddha's is not as mortal things.

As he took the changeable for the eternal,

His sorry end was quite inevitable.

What use were Broad Wisdom and Broad Plans?

To harm others for gain always fails.

The other monks began to howl in desperation, “Our Patriarch has dashed his brains out, and we can't find the cassock, so whatever shall we do?”

“I think you've hidden it somewhere,” Monkey said. “Come out, all of you, and bring me all the registers. I'm going to check that you're all here.” The senior and junior abbots brought the two registers in which all the monks, novices, pages, and servants were registered. There were a total of two hundred and thirty names in them. Asking his master to sit in the place of honour, Monkey called out and marked off each of the names, making the monks open up their clothes for his inspection. When he had checked each one carefully there was no sign of the cassock. Then he searched carefully through all the boxes and baskets that had been saved from the flames, but again he could find no trace of it. Sanzang, now absolutely furious with Brother Monkey, started to recite the spell as he sat up high.

Monkey fell to the ground in great agony, clutching his head and pleading, “Stop, stop, I swear to return the cassock to you.” The monks, trembling at the sight, begged him to stop, and only then did he shut his mouth and desist.

Monkey leapt to his feet, took his iron cudgel from behind his ear, and was going to hit the monks when Sanzang shouted, “You ape, aren't you afraid of another headache? Are you going to misbehave again? Don't move your hand or hurt anyone. I want you to question them again instead.”

The monks all kowtowed to him and entreated him most pitifully to spare their lives. “We've honestly not seen it. It's all that dead old bastard's fault. After he saw your cassock yesterday evening he cried till late into the night, not even wanting to look at it as he worked out a plan by which it could belong to the monastery for ever. He wanted to burn you to death, masters, but when the fire started, a gale wind blew up, and we were all busy trying to put the blaze out and move away what stuff we could. We don't know where the cassock went.”

Monkey went into the abbot's quarters at the back in a great rage and carried out the corpse of the old monk who had killed himself. When he stripped the body he found no treasures on it, so he dug up the floor of his room to a depth of three feet, again without finding a sign of the cassock. Monkey thought for a moment and then asked, “Are there any monsters turned spirits around here?”

“If you hadn't asked, sir, I'd never have imagined you wanted to know,” the abbot replied. “There is a mountain due South of here called the Black Wind Mountain, and in the Black Wind Cave-on it there lives a Great Black King. That old dead bastard of ours was always discussing the Way with him. There aren't any other evil spirits apart from him.”

“How far is the mountain from here?” Monkey asked.

“Only about seven miles,” the abbot replied. “It's the mountain you can see over there.”

Monkey smiled and said to Sanzang. “Don't worry, master, there's no need to ask any more questions. No doubt about it: it must have been stolen by that black monster.”

“But his place is seven miles from here, so how can you be sure it was him?” Sanzang asked.

“You didn't see the fire last night,” Brother Monkey retorted. “The flames were leaping up hundreds of miles high, and the glow penetrated the triple heavens. You could have seen it seventy miles away, let alone seven. I'm convinced that he saw the glare and took the chance to slip over here quietly. When he saw that our cassock was a treasure, he must have stolen it in the confusion. Just wait while I go and find him.”

“If you go, who's going to protect me?” asked Sanzang.

“Don't worry, gods are watching over you in secret, and in the visible sphere I'll make these monks serve you.” With that he called the community together and said, “I want some of you to go and bury that old ghost, and some of you to serve my master and look after our white horse.” The monks all assented obediently, and Monkey continued, “I won't have you agreeing glibly now but not waiting on them when I've gone. Those of you who look after my master must do so with pleasant expressions on your faces, and those who feed the horse must make sure he gets the right amount of hay and water. If there's the slightest mistake, I'll hit you like this.” He pulled out his cudgel, and smashed a fire-baked brick wall to smithereens; the shock from this shook down seven or eight more walls. At the sight of this the monks' bones turned to jelly, and they knelt down and kowtowed to him with tears pouring down their cheeks.

“Don't worry, master, you can go-we'll look after him. We promise not to show any disrespect.” The splendid Monkey then went straight to the Black Wind Mountain with a leap of his somersault cloud to look for the cassock.

The Golden Cicada left the capital in search of the truth,

Leaning on his staff as he went to the distant West.

Along his route were tigers, leopards and wolves;

Few were the artisans, merchants, or scholars he met.

In a foreign land be encountered a stupid and covetous monk,

And depended entirely on the mighty Great Sage Equaling Heaven.

When fire and wind destroyed the monastery,

A black bear came one night to steal the silken cassock.

If you don't know whether the cassock was found on this journey or how things turned out, listen to the explanation in the next installment.