Journey 022: Sand and Skulls

We find out that San Zang isn’t the first scripture pilgrim. So what happened to his predecessors?

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Welcome to the Chinese Lore Podcast, where I retell classic Chinese stories in English. This is episode 22 of Journey to the West.

Last time, our pilgrims dealt with the Yellow Wind Demon with some help from a Bodhisattva NOT named Guanyin. But when we left them, they had just been accosted by a red-haired demon at the 800-mile-wide Drifting Sand River. That demon leaped out of the waves and charged onto shore like a whirlwind, making straight for San Zang. Sun Wukong quickly grabbed his master and leaped onto higher ground. Meanwhile, the other disciple, Zhu Bajie, tossed aside the luggage, pulled out his rake, and blocked the demon. The demon wielded a Buddhist spade, and the two of them now squared off on the bank of the river for 20-some exchanges, with neither gaining the upper hand.

Meanwhile, Wukong retreated with San Zang to a safe distance. He also took the horse and luggage with them. But then, as he watched Bajie fight the demon, he couldn’t help but itch for a piece of the action. So he pulled out his golden rod and told San Zang, “Master, have a seat. Don’t be afraid. Let me go play with that demon for a bit.”

Umm, look, if we learned one thing from your misadventures on Yellow Wind Ridge, it’s that there are TWO disciples for a reason. One of you can go fight the demon of the week, while the other stays put to guard your very mortal master. But despite San Zang’s repeated pleas, Wukong simply would not be stopped from forgetting this. With a loud whistle, he leaped into the fray. That demon was in the heat of battle against Zhu Bajie when suddenly, he saw this monkey swinging a rod at him. So he quickly turned, dodged the blow, and dove back into the river.

“Brother, who asked you to butt in?!” an agitated Bajie griped. “That demon was starting to falter and couldn’t fend off my rake. A few more exchanges, and I would’ve captured him! But when he saw your vicious face, he ran away. Now what?!”

Wukong laughed and said, “Brother, to tell you the truth, ever since we tamed the Yellow Wind Demon and left that mountain, I haven’t had any occasion to use my rod. When I saw you getting into a long fight with him, I couldn’t help myself and had to jump in for a little fun. But that demon doesn’t know the meaning of fun and ran away.”

The two now returned to their master hand-in-hand while talking and joking. San Zang asked what happened, and Wukong told him that the monster had fled back into the river, which gave San Zang an idea.

“That demon must have lived here for a long time and knows the river,” he said. “With such boundless unbuoyant waters and no boats, we must have someone who’s adept at swimming to guide the way.”

“Quite right,” Wukong agreed. “As the saying goes, ‘Those who stay near vermillion gets stained red, and those who stay near ink gets stained black.’ That demon must be a good swimmer. Let’s catch him, make him escort you across the river, and then deal with him.”

Bajie said, “Brother, then let’s not hesitate. You go capture him, while I stay and defend our master.”

But Wukong chuckled and said, “Good brother, on THIS I dare not brag. I’m not that adept at dealings underwater. I have to cast a Water Repelling Spell before I can go in, or I have to turn into some kind of fish or crab. If we were in the mountains or in the clouds, then I can do anything. But in the water, I’m not so great.”

“Well, I used to be the Marshal of the Celestial Stream,” Bajie said. “I commanded 80,000 celestial naval forces, so I do know my way underwater. But what if that demon sends out a whole gaggle of his relatives? I won’t be able to fend off all of them and might get captured.”

“If you can go in the river to fight him, don’t fight him for long,” Wukong said. “Just pretend to lose and lure him out. Then I can help you.”

Bajie agreed. So he took off his robe and shoes, grabbed his rake, and waded into the river. Using the skills he honed as the commander of Heaven’s navy, he dived to the bottom of the river. There, he was immediately met by the river demon, who was just catching his breath after fleeing from the last fight. 

“Monk, don’t run! Take this!” the demon shouted as he attacked.

Bajie raised his rake, blocked his foe’s spade, and asked, “What sort of demon are you? How dare you block our path?”

“You don’t know me. I’m no demon, and I have a name!” the demon said.

“If you’re not a wicked demon, then why are you here harming people? Tell me your name, and I’ll spare your life.”

The demon now replied in verse. So, does everyone in this novel rehearse catchy lengthy poems about their backstories just in case random passers-by ask about it? Anyway the first half of his backstory was basically that he was a renowned hero who roamed the land for years in search of Daoist masters. Then, he finally found one and became a devout follower of the Dao. That led to his eventual ascension to heaven, where the Jade Emperor named him the Curtain-Raising Captain. He got a spiffy suit of armor and a Demon-Taming Spade and was tasked with escorting the Jade Emperor to and fro.

As for the next part, we’ll let him tell it:

When the Queen Mother held the Festival of Peaches,

She served her guests a feast at Jasper Pool.

I accidentally dropped and broke a jade-like glass,

And the souls of all the heavenly hosts fled in fear.

The Jade Emperor grew fiercely enraged;

Clasping his hands, he consulted with his left minister.

Stripped of my hat, armor, and rank,

I was dragged to the execution block.

Only the Great Barefoot Immortal

Stepped forward and begged for my release.

Spared from death and my sentence stayed,

I was banished to the shores of Drifting Sand.

Sated, I rest wearily by the stream;

Hungry, I churn the waves to seek my prey.

The woodsman who meets me soon loses his life;

Fishermen who see me perish without strife.

From start to end, I have consumed many men;

Again and again, I have taken human lives.

Since you dare commit violence at my door,

Today my stomach’s craving will be met for sure!

Don’t say you’re too coarse to be eaten now—

I’ll catch you and turn you into minced meat sauce!

When Zhu Bajie heard those last couple lines, he became enraged and cursed, “You fiend! You must be blind! My flesh is still tempting enough to make people’s mouths water. How dare you say that I’m coarse and that you’ll turn me into minced meat sauce?! Come to think of it, you probably think I’m a tough piece of old bacon. Watch your manners and taste my rake!”

As Bajie struck, the river demon dodged the blow with a move called “Nodding Phoenix,” and the two fought from the bottom of the river all the way to above the surface of the waves. They fought for a good four hours without a winner. 

This whole time, Sun Wukong was waiting to get in on the action, but as long as they were in the river, he couldn’t really jump in. But then, Bajie feigned a blow and turned and ran toward the eastern shore. The demon gave chase, and as he neared shore, Wukong couldn’t wait anymore. He left San Zang, pulled out his rod, leaped onto the bank and swung at the demon’s head. But just like before, the demon did not dare to trade blows with him and instead fled right back under the water.

“Dammit, you impatient stable monkey!” Bajie complained. “If you had waited just a bit longer, I would’ve lured him to higher ground. And then you could’ve cut him off from behind and stopped him from going back into the river. Then we would’ve had him. But now, he’s gone back into the water. When the hell will he be willing to come back out?!”

“Enough griping, dum-dum,” Wukong laughed. “Let’s go back and see master first.”

When they returned to San Zang, he asked about the fight, and Bajie answered, “That demon’s skills were a match for me. I pretended to lose and lured him to shore. But as soon as he saw brother charge in with his rod, he fled again.”

“Then what are we to do?” San Zang fretted.

“Master, don’t worry,” Wukong said. “It’s getting late. You rest under this cliff while I go beg some food for you so you can eat and sleep. We’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

“That’s right,” Bajie said. “Hurry up and hurry back.”

Wukong took to the air, and before long, he came back with a bowl of food and presented it to San Zang. Seeing how quickly he returned, San Zang said, “Why don’t we go ask the family that gave you this food for a way to cross the river, instead of fighting that demon?”

Wukong laughed. “Master, that family is about 7,000 miles from here. How can you get there any time soon?”

“Brother, you’re lying again,” Bajie muttered. “How can you cover so much ground so quickly?”

“What do you know?” Wukong scoffed. “My somersault cloud can cover 108,000 miles in one flip. Seven thousand miles only takes me a nod or a twist. It’s easy.”

“Well then why don’t you just carry master on your back, and nod and twist over to the other side of the river, instead of having to fight that demon?”

“Well, don’t you know how to fly too? Why don’t you carry master across?”

“Master’s mortal bones are as heavy as a mountain. How can my flying skills carry him across? Only your somersault cloud would do.”

“My flying skills work the same way as yours, just farther. If you can’t carry him, then how can I? As the saying goes, ‘You can send Mount Tai away like a mustard seed, but you can’t lift a mortal man out of the mundane world.’ Take this demon here. He may be able to use some spells and call upon the wind, and push and pull a human being along the ground, but not into the air. I can do that too, and I know all the other tricks, like being invisible or shortening distances. But our master must go through all these strange foreign lands and cannot escape from the sea of sorrows. That’s why every step is so hard. You and I can only be his escorts and protect his life. We can’t exempt him from these troubles, nor can we fetch the scriptures for him. Even if we could go on ahead to see the Buddha, he won’t be willing to give you and me the scriptures. As the old saying goes, ‘If it’s easy, it means nothing.’ ”

So we’re obviously in the “explanations to preempt annoying letters from readers”portion of the novel. Anyway, after listening to that plot convenience, Bajie contented himself with a simple vegetarian meal, and master and pupils spent the night resting under a cliff on the eastern bank of the river.

The next morning, San Zang asked Wukong what they should do. Wukong said, “There’s no other way; we still must send Bajie into the river.”

“Brother, you’re just trying to keep yourself clean, so you keep sending me into the water,” Bajie grumbled.

“Brother, this time I’ll be patient,” Wukong promised. “I’ll wait until you lure him onto land, and then I’ll cut off his path of retreat. Then we’ve got him.”

So Zhu Bajie rubbed his face to wake himself up fully, grabbed his rake, and dove back into the river. The demon had just woken up and heard the sound of water being parted. He turned and saw Bajie landing on the bottom of the river. So the demon leaped out, cut him off, and shouted, “Stop! Taste my spade!”

Bajie blocked his blow and teased, “What’s that? Your mourning stick? Why the hell should I worry about it?”

The demon, though, told him that this was no ordinary spade. And of course, won’t you know it, he had a medium-length poem about his spade, too. Turns out that this was a divine weapon that could change size as he wished. It was made from a special branch, filled with a golden core, encrusted in pearl-like threads, forged in the heat of a dying star by Dwarves, blah blah blah. It was given to him by the Jade Emperor, and he used it to … umm … raise the curtains that the Jade Emperor sat behind so that his lord could receive homage from the other immortals. So turns out the Curtain-Raising Captain was a very literal title. 

When he was done bragging about his spade, Curtains taunted Bajie, “Look at that rusty rake of yours. It’s only good for gardening and hoeing vegetables.”

“Damn fiend! You’re itching for a beating!” Bajie shot back with a chuckle. “Hoeing vegetables? One strike with this rake and you’d be beyond help. You’ll end up with blood pouring out of nine holes!”

Trash talk time over, the two now got back to fighting. After 30 exchanges, they were again evenly matched. And now Bajie once again feigned retreat, dragging his rake behind him. The demon again gave chase, riding the waves to just off the bank. 

“You fiend! Come up here. This is high ground with solid footing that’s good for fighting!” Bajie taunted him.

But the demon was not falling for that again. He cursed back, “You scoundrel! You’re trying to lure me onto shore so your helper can cut in again. Come down here and fight me in the water.”

So the two of them were at a standstill, each trying to goad the other into coming toward him. Meanwhile, Wukong saw that the demon wasn’t falling for the trick and got impatient again. He told San Zang, “Master, have a seat. Let me go treat him to a ‘Hungry eagle tearing at prey.’ ”

With that, he did a somersault into the sky and then plunged back down toward the demon. The demon heard the whoosh of the wind and saw Wukong darting toward him, so he once again dove into the river and vanished.

Umm, so now what? Wukong and Bajie had no choice but to go back to see San Zang and told him what happened. San Zang started to cry, lamenting, “How can I cross this river? It’s too difficult.”

Oh god, not the tears again. Wukong said, “Master, don’t worry. This demon is familiar with the river, so it’s difficult to cross. Bajie, you stay here and protect master. Don’t fight with the demon anymore. Let me make a quick visit to the South Sea.

“What will you do there?” Bajie asked.

“It was the Bodhisattva Guanyin who first tasked me with this scripture-fetching mission. She’s also the one who helped free me. Right now, we’re stuck here at this Drifting Sand River, with no way forward. Let me go ask her for help. That’s better than trying to fight this demon.”

“That’s true,” Bajie agreed. “Brother, when you see her, relay my thanks to her for her past guidance. ”

San Zang added, “Wukong, if you’re going to ask the Bodhisattva for help, then don’t delay. Hurry up and hurry back.”

So Wukong leaped into the air, and within an hour, he had arrived at Mount Potalaka, the abode of Guanyin. He landed outside the purple bamboo forest and was greeted by the Spirits of the 24 Ways. They asked why he was there, and he said, “My master has encountered an obstacle, so I’ve come to see the Bodhisattva.”

The Spirits asked him to sit and wait while they announced him. Guanyin was looking at flowers at her sacred lotus pond at the moment. When she heard Wukong was there, she summoned him in and asked what business he had.

“Bodhisattva, previously my master took in a disciple named Zhu Bajie at the Gao Family Village,” Wukong said. “Thank you so much for instructing him and giving him the Buddhist name Wuneng (4,2). Then, we crossed Yellow Wind Ridge and we are now at the 800-mile wide Drifting Sand River. It’s a deep, non-buoyant river. Our master can’t cross it. And there is a demon in that river. He has some skills. Bajie fought him three times on the river, but could not beat him. He’s blocking us from crossing. So I have come to ask you to exercise compassion and help us out.”

“You monkey, you’re so full of yourself,” Guanyin chided him. “Why didn’t you tell him you were protecting the Tang monk?”

“We just wanted to catch him and make him take our master across the river,” Wukong explained. “And I’m not great in the water, so it was Bajie who went to his lair and exchanged words with him. He must not have mentioned that we were scripture pilgrims.”

So … you see where this was going? Let’s backtrack one more time to when Guanyin was on her way to the Tang capital to recruit a scripture pilgrim. That river was actually the first pitstop on her journey East. While she and her disciple Muzha were checking it out, Guanyin said, “This is a real obstacle. The scripture pilgrim is going to be a mortal. How can they cross this?”

Just then, the demon in the river leaped out and made for Guanyin, but Muzha quickly raised his steel staff and engaged him in a fierce fight. After dozens of exchanges, they were at a standstill. The demon now parried a blow and asked Muzha, “Where do you hail from? How dare you fight me?”

“I am Muzha, the second son of the Pagoda-Wielding Heavenly King. I’m escorting my master to the East to find a scripture pilgrim. What demon are you, that you would dare to block our path?”

The demon quickly came to his senses and said, “I remember that you were a disciple of the Bodhisattva Guanyin of the South Sea. What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t that my master on the bank?” Muzha said as he pointed.

The demon immediately put away his spade and allowed Muzha to take him to see Guanyin, whereupon he kneeled and said, “Bodhisattva, please forgive my offense and hear my plea. I’m no demon. I was the Curtain-Raising General in the service of the Jade Emperor. But I accidentally broke a glass cup at the Immortal Peach Festival. So the Jade Emperor gave me a caning of 800 strokes and cast me down here, turning my appearance to this. And every seven days, he would stab my chest 100-some times with a flying sword. I’m suffering and starving. I have no choice but to come out and capture a passer-by to devour every few days. But I didn’t mean to offend you.”

So, it sounds like the Jade Emperor has just one punishment for every type of offense. Whether you attempted sexual assault or accidentally dropped a cup, it’s a severe caning and casting out of heaven for you. 

Anyway, Guanyin said to the demon, “You committed an offense in heaven and got sent down here. And now you’re taking lives. This is compounding your crime. On the Buddha’s command, I’m on my way East to find a scripture pilgrim. Why don’t you join my school, abandon the wicked for the good, become a disciple for that pilgrim, and escort him West to see the Buddha and fetch scriptures? I will see to it that you will no longer be stabbed by flying swords. Then, when you have completed your mission and atoned for your crimes, you will be restored to your original post. What do you think?”

Stop being stabbed 100 times a day by flying swords? Well, count me in. The demon happily agreed, but then he said, uhh, just one little thing. 

“Bodhisattva, I”ve eaten countless people here. In fact, several scripture pilgrims have passed through here and I’ve eaten them all. Usually, after I eat a man’s head and throw his skull in the river, it sinks because not even a goose feather can float in this water. But those nine scripture pilgrims’ skulls stayed afloat. I thought they were oddities, so I strung them up and play with them when I’m bored. What if this scripture pilgrim doesn’t make it here? Won’t that doom my future?”

Uh, fun pastime, buddy. Have you considered taking up crocheting instead? Also, NINE scripture pilgrims? Really? Now I’m just picturing various Bodhisattvas sending devout monks on their journeys West, only to stamp their feet a few months in and go, dammit, not again! Guanyin, however, was like, what do you mean “not make it here?”

“Wear these skulls around your neck,” she told the demon. “When you encounter the scripture pilgrim, they will be of use.”

So the demon received the precepts from her, along with a name. She gave him the last name Sha (1), which meant Sandy, and the Buddhist name Wujing (4,4), which meant “Recognizing Purity.” He then escorted her across the river and changed his ways. No longer did he harm passers-by, and instead just waited for the scripture pilgrim. 

Of course, that also begs the question of why the hell did he then attack San Zang and company on sight? But nevermind the lack of a continuity editor for the novel. Let’s jump back to the present, where Guanyin was busy chiding Sun Wukong.

“If you had been willing to tell him that you were scripture pilgrims from the East, he definitely would not have quarreled with you,” she said. “He would have submitted right away.”

“Well, right now that demon is afraid to fight me and refuses to come onto shore,” Wukong said. “He stays hidden in the water. So how can he submit to me? And how can my master cross that river?”

Guanyin now summoned her disciple Muzha, handed him a red gourd from her sleeve, gave him some instructions, and sent him on his way with Sun Wukong. The two of them then flew back to the bank of the Drifting Sand River. Zhu Bajie recognized Muzha, so he and San Zang went forward to welcome him. 

Bajie then told Muzha, “Thanks to you introducing me to the Bodhisattva, I have followed the teachings of the Buddha and have happily followed my master. We’ve been so busy on our journey that I haven’t had a chance to thank you. Please pardon me.”

“Let’s not catch up just yet,” Muzha said. “Let us go summon him.”

“Who?” San Zang asked.

Wukong now explained the whole backstory of the river demon, which prompted San Zang to bow repeatedly to thank Guanyin. He then also thanked Muzha and asked him to do his thing. So Muzha took out the red gourd, flew into the sky above the river, and shouted sternly, “Wujing, Wujing! The scripture pilgrim has long been here. Why have you not submitted yet?”

The river demon was resting in his lair under the water, but when he heard his Buddhist name being called, he knew it was from Guanyin. And when he heard the phrase “The scripture pilgrim is here,” he cast aside his fear of Sun Wukong and poked his head above the water. He recognized Muzha and immediately went up to greet him with a smile and ask where Guanyin was.

“My master did not come,” Muzha said. “But she sent me to instruct you to hurry up and become the Tang monks’ disciple, and to help him cross the river by turning your necklace of skulls into a magic raft.”

“Where is the scripture pilgrim?” Wujing asked. 

“That’s him on the east bank,” Muzha said as he pointed.

Wujing looked in that direction and saw Zhu Bajie. He scoffed, “I don’t know where that fiend came from. But he fought me for two days and never mentioned the words ‘scripture pilgrim’. ”

He then looked again and saw Sun Wukong, and he said, “And that guy is his helper. He’s quite a handful. I’m not going.”

But Muzha explained, “They are Zhu Bajie and Sun Wukong. They are the Tang monk’s disciples, also on the guidance of Guanyin. There’s no need to be afraid. I’ll go with you to see the Tang monk.”

Only now did Wujing put away his spade, tidy up his cape, and leap onto shore. He kneeled to San Zang and said, “Master, I was blind and didn’t recognize your honorable visage. Please pardon my offense.”

Bajie cut in and grumbled, “You scoundrel! Why didn’t you submit earlier and just fought with me?!”

Wukong, though, smiled and said, “Brother, you can’t blame him. We didn’t mention anything about being scripture pilgrims.”

San Zang now asked Wujing, “Are you truly willing to obey my teachings?”

Wujing replied, “I received guidance from the Bodhisattva. She named me Sha (1) after this river, and gave me the Buddhist name Wujing. How can I not follow you?”

San Zang was delighted and told Wukong to fetch his shaving knife and shave Sha Wujing’s head. Wukong did as instructed and then presented the freshly shaven Wujing to his master. Wujing bowed to San Zang, and then to his fellow disciples. And I can just imagine him and Zhu Bajie sharing their own backstories. Like, hey, what were you in charge of in heaven? The navy, what about you? Umm, the draperies. Why did you get kicked out of heaven? Oh I broke a cup. You? Oh, I tried to rape the Moon Goddess. 

Anyway, seeing Wujing bow, San Zang thought that he acted quite like a monk, so from here on out, Wujing will be referred as Sha Heshang (2,4), or Sha Zeng, which means Sandy Monk. 

Muzha now told Sha Zeng to ferry his new master across the river. Sha Zeng removed his necklace of the nine skulls of prior scripture pilgrims and used the string to tie them into a grid of nine sections, a common pattern in Chinese cosmology. He then put the red gourd from Guanyin in the center and asked San Zang to board this grisly craft. But San Zang apparently had no qualms about traveling by skeleton raft, and it turned out to be quite steady and fast. Bajie sat on his left, while Sha Zeng sat on his right. Wukong followed behind in the air with their horse, while Muzha led the way. In this way, they zipped across the river and reached the opposite bank in no time. They didn’t even get wet.

Once the pilgrims were back on land, Muzha took back his gourd, and the nine skulls dissolved into the wind. San Zang thanked Muzha and Guanyin again. Then the pilgrims set out once more — now a party of four, or five if you count Little White Dragon, which the novel really doesn’t.

And in case you didn’t know, this was the crew, the entire crew. To see what the journey had in store for them, tune in to the next episode of the Chinese Lore Podcast. Thanks for listening!

Music in This Episode

• “Luỹ Tre Xanh Ngát Đầu Làng (Guzheng) – Vietnam BGM” by VPRODMUSIC_Asia_BGM
• “The Quiet Aftermath by Sir Cubworth (from YouTube audio library)