Journey Supplemental 002: To Hell and Back

Journey Supplemental 002: To Hell and Back

Journey Supplemental 002: To Hell and Back

Somehow a trip to the underworld adds decades to the Tang emperor’s life.

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Welcome to the Chinese Lore Podcast, where I retell classic Chinese stories in English. This is a supplemental episode for Journey to the West.

On the previous supplemental episode, we followed a meandering tale that started with a fisherman and woodcutter waxing poetic and ended with the emperor of the Tang Dynasty being haunted by the ghost of an executed dragon king whom he promised to save but didn’t, though he did try. When we left him, the emperor found himself in the clutches of the headless dragon king, who was demanding to drag him to hell to sort this out. 

The emperor couldn’t explain himself and was covered in cold sweat. Suddenly, he saw fragrant clouds and colorful fog swirling from the South, and a female priestess approached, waved the willow twig in her hand, and sent the headless, weeping dragon toward the Northwest. This was none other than the Bodhisattva Guanyin. She had been staying in the capital in search of a scripture pilgrim. She was staying at a local temple and had heard the wailing of the dragon’s spirit. So she came and sent him on his way to hell, saving the Tang emperor.

Just then, the emperor startled awake, shouting, “Ghost! Ghost!” It scared his harem and servants, and he had a restless night. Before he knew it, the hour for morning court session had come, and his officials had assembled. But they saw no sign of their emperor and were alarmed. Then, word came from the inner palace that the emperor was not feeling well and that they were all dismissed. 

This continued for about seven days, and the officials were all becoming concerned and were about to insist on seeing the emperor to check up on him. Then, the empress dowager summoned the royal physician into the palace to treat the emperor. When the physician came out, he was met by a gaggle of officials waiting for word on the emperor’s wellbeing.

“His highness’s pulse is irregular,” he told them. “It’s both weak and rapid. He kept saying he saw a ghost. I also see that there’s no breath left in his innards. I fear he may not have more than seven days left.”

This sent shockwaves through the court. While the officials were panicking, word came that the empress dowager had summoned three top generals. The three of them went in and paid their respects to the emperor. He said to them, “I was 19 when I started leading troops. We have waged campaigns everywhere and fought countless battles, and I had never encountered any strange things. But now, I’m seeing ghosts!”

One of the generals said, “To establish our kingdom, we have killed countless people. So why should we be afraid of ghosts?”

“I know you don’t believe me,” the emperor said. “But at night, you could hear roof tiles being hurled to the ground outside my chamber, accompanied by the howling of ghosts. It’s hard to cope with. I can get by during the day, but at night it’s impossible.”

Another general said, “Don’t worry, your highness. Tonight two of us will stand watch outside your chamber to see what ghosts these are.”

So that night, two of the generals stood guard outside in full armor, and the night passed without any disturbance. The next morning, the emperor summoned the two and rewarded them, saying, “Ever since I fell ill, I haven’t been able to sleep for days. But last night, thanks to your protection, I had peace. Please go rest for a bit, and then stand guard one more night tonight.”

So those two generals stood guard for the next couple days. But even though he was getting some sleep, the emperor’s condition continued to deteriorate. At the same time, he also felt bad about continuing to have the two generals stand guard every night. So he summoned them to his chamber and said, “Even though I had some peace these past couple days, I hate to keep making you stay up at night. I would like to have an artist paint your likenesses and hang them on the door instead. What do you think?”

Everyone agreed because, you know, he’s the emperor. So a couple artists were chosen and they painted the likenesses of the two generals and hung them on the doors. And sure enough, the peaceful nights continued. And even to this day, those two generals are depicted as door gods and you can still find their images on some doors in China.

The peace continued for another two or three days, but then one night, the sound of flying roof tiles started up again, this time at the back door to the chamber. The emperor told his officials the next morning, and one of them said, “You have the two generals protecting the front door. You should have the prime minister Wei Zheng protect the back door.”

The emperor agreed and summoned Wei Zheng to stand guard at the back door. And sure enough, that restored peace that night. But the emperor’s condition continued to get worse until one day, the empress dowager summoned key officials to the emperor’s bedside. It was time for him to leave them with his final instructions. 

After entrusting them with the matters of succession, the emperor bathed, changed into fresh clothes, and waited for the end. As he lay dying, Wei Zheng suddenly approached and said, “Your highness, please don’t worry. I have something that can guarantee you long life.”

“My illness is beyond treatment and my life is almost at an end,” the emperor said. “How can you save it?”

“I have a letter here that you can take with you to the underworld and give to the judge Cui (1) Jue (2).”

“Who’s that?”

“Cui Jue was an official in the service of your father, the late emperor. He was my sworn brother and we were very close. He’s dead now and has become a judge in the underworld. He’s responsible for the registers of life and death, and he often meets me in my dreams. If you give him this letter, then on account of his connections with me, he will release your soul back into the world of the living.”

Hearing this, the emperor took the letter from Wei Zheng, stashed it in his sleeve, and promptly shut his eyes and breathed his last. 

While the emperor’s harem and officials mourned, his soul drifted out of his chamber. He was greeted by his imperial guard, who asked him to lead them out on a hunt. He agreed and went with them, but after traveling for a while, he found himself all alone in what seemed like the wilderness.

Just as he was panicking, the emperor suddenly heard someone shouting to him, “Emperor of the Tang, come this way! Come this way!”

He looked and saw a man dressed in the attire of an official, holding a registry of the names of the living and the dead. As the emperor approached him, this man kneeled on the side of the road and said, “Please pardon me for not welcoming you sooner.”

“Who are you? Why are you here to greet me?” the emperor asked.

“Half a month ago, the ghost of the dragon king of the Jing River came to the Hall of Darkness and accused your highness of going back on your promise to save him. The first king of hell immediately sent demon messengers to bring you to the underworld for trial by the Three Tribunes. I heard about it, so I came to receive you. But I was a bit late. Please forgive me.”

“What’s your name? What position do you hold?” the emperor inquired.

“When I was alive, I was an official in the service of your father. My name is Cui (1) Jue (2). Now that I’m dead, I’ve been appointed a judge in the Capital of Death.”

When he heard this, the emperor rejoiced. This was the connection that Wei Zheng had told him about. He took Cui Jue by the hand and said, “Sir, thank you for your efforts. I have a letter for you from my official Wei Zheng.”

He now handed the letter to Cui Jue, and it said: “Your sworn brother Wei Zheng, undeserving of your affections, do hereby respectfully present this letter to you, my brother Cui Jue: I still remember our journeys together and can still hear your voice and see your face. Yet it has been many years since I last received your guidance. I’ve often offered sacrifices to you during holidays. Have you been able to enjoy them? Thanks to you not abandoning me, we’ve been able to meet in my dreams. That’s how I knew that you had risen to a high rank. Yet, we’re split between the worlds of the living and the dead and cannot meet. Now, my emperor has suddenly died. I suspect it’s because he’s been summoned to answer to the Three Tribunes. He will no doubt meet you. On account of our bond when you were alive, please do me a favor and release my lord back to the world of the living. I will be grateful and thank you properly.”

Cui Jue was delighted upon reading the letter. He said, “I already knew about Wei Zheng executing the dragon king and couldn’t stop praising him for it. Besides, he looks after my descendants all the time. Since he’s written this letter, then you, my lord, can rest easy. I will send you back to the land of the living so that you may return to your throne.”

Just then, a pair of young acolytes dressed in blue approached. They carried banners and shouted, “The King of the Underworld is inviting you for a meeting.”

So the emperor and Cui Jue followed them, and came upon a city. Above the city gates hung a huge placard that said, “The Underworld, the Gate of Spirits.” The acolytes led the emperor into the city. As they walked down the street, the emperor saw his father, the previous emperor. He also saw his elder and younger brothers. As soon as they saw him, however, his elder and younger brothers charged forward, grabbed hold of him, and demanded that he return their lives.

So, a little backstory on this newly deceased Tang emperor, Li (3) Shimin (4,2). He was the second son of his father and thus was not the first in line for the throne. However he was by far  the most accomplished of the sons, which made him a threat to his elder brother, who was also allied with the third son. Well, their rivalry escalated, and in a famous … umm, let’s just call it “incident” since “coup” is such a nasty sounding word, Li Shimin and his supporters ambushed and killed both of his brothers in the palace, paving the way for him to ascend to the throne once his father, under no duress at all I swear, made Li Shimin the crown prince and then abdicated two months later.

So that explains this less-than-jovial family reunion in the underworld. As the emperor was being accosted by his brothers, Cui Jue quickly summoned a blue-faced demon messenger with protruding fangs to shoosh the brothers away. That allowed the emperor to keep going. 

After a couple more miles, he came upon a beautiful tower. As he was admiring the view, the 10 kings of the underworld arrived. They greeted him and asked him to go in first. He tried to beg off, but they said, “Your highness is the ruler of men in the world of the living, while we are the rulers of ghosts in the underworld. This is the proper order of things, so why be so modest?”

“I have offended you all, so how can I dare to dwell on the proper order of living versus dead?” the emperor said.

After much back and forth, the emperor relented and went in first. They entered the Hall of Darkness, where they greeted each other properly and then sat down as hosts and guest.

After a moment, the top king of hell said, “The ghost of the dragon king of the Jing River accused your highness of promising to save him and then going back on your word. What say you?”

“I did dream that the dragon king begged me to save him, and I did promise him that he’ll be ok,” the emperor replied. “He was sentenced to be executed by my official Wei Zheng. So I summoned Wei Zheng to the palace and kept him occupied. But I didn’t expect that he would execute the dragon king in his sleep. That was due in part to Wei Zheng’s unpredictable powers and in part to the dragon king’s fate. How can that be my fault?”

The 10 kings of hell now said, “That dragon was fated to be executed even before he was born. This we already knew. It’s just that he was arguing his case here, so we had no choice but to bring you here to answer his charges in front of the Three Tribunes. We’ve already sent him on his way to his next incarnation. But please don’t begrudge us for inconveniencing you.”

Then, the kings asked the judge in charge of the registries of life and death to bring forth the appropriate volume so they could see how many years the emperor had left. That judge, of course, was none other than Cui Jue. So Cui Jue went to the documents office and pulled the appropriate volume for rulers of the world. He flipped through it first, but was stunned to see that this particular emperor’s reign was destined to last 13 years. Seeing that he was already in the 13th year of his reign, that meant his life was actually up right now. 

Cui Jue was shocked, but he quickly grabbed a brush and turned 13 into 33. This was actually pretty easy to do in Chinese characters. The character for 1 was a horizontal dash, and he just needed to add a couple more horizontal dashes under it to turn into a 3. 

This done, Cui Jue brought the registry to the kings. They saw that under the emperor’s name, it was written that he was destined for a reign of 33 years. They asked him how many years he had been on the throne, and he answered 13.

“No worries then,” they told him. “You still have 20 years of life left. Now that this case has been cleared up, please return to the land of the living.”

The emperor got up and bowed to thank them. The kings then sent Cui Jue and another official to escort his soul back to the world of the living. As he prepared to leave, the emperor asked the kings in passing, “How are my relatives doing?”

“They’re fine,” the kings said, “but your sister might not have long to live.”

He thanked them again and said, “Once I return to the land of the living, I won’t have much to offer you, but at least I can offer some melons and fruits.”

The kings of hell were delighted by this. “We have winter melons and watermelons aplenty here, but we’re missing pumpkins.”

“Then I will send some as soon as I get back,” the emperor promised.

And then he left, walking side by side with Cui Jue and following the other official. As they traveled, he realized that they weren’t heading back the same way they came.

“Are we on the wrong path?” he asked.

“No,” Cui Jue explained. “That’s the way of the underworld. There’s only a way in, no way back out. We’re going to send you out through the Wheel of Transmigration. You will tour the underworld and then be reborn.”

The emperor didn’t realize he was signing up for a Chinese reenactment of the Divine Comedy, but he had no choice but to follow his guides. After a few miles, they came upon a tall mountain enshrouded in dark clouds and fog. The emperor asked for its name, and Cui Jue said it was the Mountain of Perpetual Shade.

“How can I cross it?” the emperor fretted.

“Don’t worry, your highness,” Cui Jue said. “Just follow us.”

So trembling in fear, the emperor followed his guides to the top of the mountain. There, he looked around and saw a mournful mountain of crags and curves. A cold, howling wind and endless black mist swept across the slopes. There were no sounds of birds or animals, just the weeping of hungry ghosts and needy souls. 

Once they descended the mountain, they came upon a place with many halls and chambers, where melancholy laments echoed between the walls.

“What is this place?” the emperor asked.

“These are the 18 levels of hell,” Cui Jue said.

“What are the 18 levels?”

To this, Cui Jue recited the following verses:

“The Hell of the Rack,

The Hell of Gloomy Guilt,

The Hell of the Fiery Pit:

All such sorrow,

All such desolation,

Are caused by a thousand sins committed in the life before;

They all come to suffer after they die.

The Hell of Hades,

The Hell of Tongue-Pulling,

The Hell of Skin-Shredding:

All those weeping and wailing,

All those pining and mourning,

Await the traitors, the rebels, and the Heaven baiters;

He of Buddha-mouth and serpent-heart will end up here.

The Hell of Grinding,

The Hell of Pounding,

The Hell of Crushing;

With frayed skin and tom flesh,

Gaping mouths and grinding teeth,

These are they who cheat and lie to work injustice,

Who fawn and flatter to deceive.

The Hell of Ice,

The Hell of Mutilation,

The Hell of Evisceration:

With grimy face and matted hair,

Knitted brow and doleful look,

These are they who fleece the simple with weights unjust,

And so bring ruin upon themselves.

The Hell of Boiling Oil,

The Hell of Grim Darkness,

The Hell of the Sword Mountain:

They shake and quake;

They sorrow and pine:

For oppressing the righteous by violence and fraud

They now must cower in their lonely pain.

The Hell of the Pool of Blood,

The Hell of Avici.

The Hell of Scales and Weights:

All the skins peeled and bones exposed

The limbs cut and the tendons severed,

Are caused by murder stemming from greed,

The taking of life of both humans and beasts.

Their fall has no reversal in a thousand yearsEternal perdition without release.

Each is firmly bound and tightly tied,

Shackled by both ropes and cords.

The slightest move brings on the Red-hair demons,

The Black-face demons,

With long spears and sharp swords;

The Bull-head demons,

The Horse-face demons,

With iron spikes and bronze gavels,

They strike till faces contort and blood flows down,

But cries to Earth and Heaven find no response.

So it is that man ought not his own conscience betray,

For gods have knowledge, who could get away?

Thus vice and virtue will at last be paid:

It differs only in coming soon or late.”

That explanation left the emperor terror-stricken again. As they walked on, they saw a group of ghost lackeys, all wielding banners, kneeling by the roadside and declaring, “We the guardians of the bridge have come to welcome you.”

Cui Jue told them to go on and lead the emperor onto the golden bridge. As the emperor followed, he saw to one side a silver bridge. On this bridge crossed the souls of loyal, kind, and fair-minded people, and they were escorted by banners and flags. On the other side, he saw another bridge. But this one was enveloped in chilly wind, striding over rolling waves of blood, and from it emanated ceaseless sounds of wailing and weeping.

“What’s that bridge called?” he asked.

Cui Jue said, “That’s called the No-Option Bridge. When you reach the world of the living, you must have it recorded that below the bridge there’s nothing but 

A vast body of surging water;

A strait and treacherous path;

Like bales of raw silk flowing down the Long River,

Or the Pit of Fire floating up to Earth,

This cold air, oppressive, this bone-piercing chill;

This foul stench both irksome and nauseous.

The waves roll and swirl;

No boat comes or goes to ferry men across;

With naked feet and tangled hair

Those moving here and there are all damned spirits.

The bridge is a few miles long

But only three spans wide.

Its height measures a hundred feet;

Below, a thousand fathoms deep.

On top are no railways for hands to hold;

Beneath you have man-seizing savage fiends

Who, bound by cangues and locks,

Fight to flee No-Option’s parlous path.

Look at those ferocious guardians beside the bridge

And those damned souls in the river-how truly wretched!

On branches and twigs

Clothes of green, red, yellow, and purple silk hang;

Below the precipice

Strumpets crouch for havin9 abused their own in-laws.

Iron dogs and brass serpents will strive to feed on them.

Their fall’s eternal-there is no way out.

As the poem says:

Ghosts are heard wailing; demons often cry

As waves of blood rise ten thousand feet high.

Horse-faces and Bull-heads by countless scores

This No-Option Bridge grimly fortify.

By now, the guardians of the bridge had already turned back. The emperor, meanwhile, was terrified and saddened by what he was seeing and hearing. He nodded and sighed slightly, and followed his two guides across the bridge. 

Ahead of them now laid the City of those Who Died in Vain. As he approached the city, the emperor could hear shouts of “Li Shimin is here! Li Shimin is here!” Hearing himself called out by name again struck fear into the emperor’s heart. He looked up and saw a horde of mangled, disfigured ghosts, missing limbs and heads, blocking his path and crying, “Give me back my life!”

To see how the emperor will get out of this pickle, tune in to the next supplemental episode of the Chinese Lore Podcast. Thanks for listening!

Music in This Episode

“Journey to the West” according to ChatGPT

As part of my experimentation with ChatGPT, I feed it the script for each episode and ask it to create an image of a scene from the episode, using realistic figures.

For this episode, it generated a scene of the Tang emperor making his way through the underworld.

ChatGPT-generated scene from the episode

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