Journey 026: Cauldron of Trouble
Sun Wukong and Master Zhenyuan trade wits, barbs, and magic.
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Transcript
Welcome to the Chinese Lore Podcast, where I retell classic Chinese stories in English. This is episode 26 of Journey to the West.
Last time, while taking a break at the Five Villages Abbey on Longevity Mountain, San Zang’s disciples got up to some shenanigans and ate several ginseng fruits, the abbey’s heirloom treasure. When the two acolytes watching the abbey found out, they went ballistic and gave the pilgrims a tongue-lashing. That ticked off Sun Wukong, who secretly slipped away during the haranguing and uprooted the whole ginseng fruit tree itself so that nobody could have any ginseng fruit anymore. When the acolytes found out, they locked the pilgrims in the parlor so that they could be dealt with by the master of the abbey, the powerful Zhenyuan, when he got back. But before that could happen, Sun Wukong used a little magic, put a sleeping spell on the two acolytes, and got the whole gang out. The pilgrims then resumed their journey west.
They traveled nonstop through the night. When dawn broke, they finally started to breathe easier. San Zang now chided Wukong, “You scoundrel ape! How you’ve made me suffer. Because of your mouth, you’ve made me travel all night without sleep!”
“Master, let’s not play the blame game,” Wukong replied. “It’s getting light out. Rest in the woods for a bit, and then we can continue.”
So San Zang dismounted and sat down, leaning against a pine tree. Sha Zeng put down the luggage and dozed off against it, while Zhu Bajie snored against a boulder. Sun Wukong, meanwhile, leaped into a tree and rested as well.
After a while, an itinerant Daoist priest appeared over the hill. He wore a robe that seemed cobbled together from a hundred patches, fastened with a sash around his waist. In one hand, he held a flowing whisk, and in the other he tapped a gentle beat on a fish drum. He wore straw sandals and a headscarf. As he walked, his sleeves fluttered like wings in the breeze, and he sang a song toward the heavens.
When he passed the tree where the pilgrims rested, this priest raised his hand and greeted San Zang, and San Zang hurriedly returned the greeting.
“Elder, where are you from? Why are you resting here?” the priest asked.
“I am a scripture pilgrim heading west on the command of the Great Tang Kingdom in the East,” San Zang said. “We were passing through here and took a break.”
“Oh? You came from the East? Did you by chance pass by my pitiful mountain?”
“Which one is your honorable mountain?”
“My humble abode is at the Five Villages Abbey on Longevity Mountain.”
Uh oh. When Sun Wukong heard that, he quickly cut in and said, “No no, we came via another route.”
But the priest pointed at him and laughed, “Damn monkey, who are you trying to fool?! You knocked over my ginseng fruit tree and then sneaked away in the middle of the night. And yet you still refuse to confess! Don’t run! Give me back my tree!”
So yeah, this was none other than Master Zhenyuan, the owner of the ginseng tree. When he got out of the lecture in heaven, he came back to Five Villages Abbey and found the front doors wide open, and the grounds were all clean.
“Wow, Clear Wind and Bright Moon are really dependable,” Zhenyuan said. “Usually, even when the sun is high up in the sky, they would still be asleep. But while we were gone, they actually got up early to open up and sweep the grounds.”
But when he and his disciples walked into the main hall, they saw that no incense had been lit, and there was no sign of anyone.
“Maybe the two of them stole the abbey’s stuff and ran away while we were gone?” the other disciples speculated.
“Nonsense!” Zhenyuan rebuked them. “Those who pursue cultivation of immortality would never dare to harbor such wicked intentions. They probably forgot to close the doors last night when they went to bed, and they haven’t gotten up yet.”
So they made their way to the two acolytes’ room. The door was shut, and they could hear loud snoring inside. The disciples banged on the door and shouted, but there was no response from inside. Finally, they pried open the doors and even dragged the two dozing acolytes off the bed, but they still did not wake up.
Zhenyuan chuckled, “Look at these two. Those who become immortals have a full divine spirit and no longer think of sleep. How can they be so tired? Could someone have done something to them? Quick, fetch some water.”
One of the disciples brought over a cup of water. Zhenyuan muttered a spell, and then sprayed a mouthful of water on the two sleeping acolytes’ faces. Only then did they start to wake up. When they came around, they rubbed their drowsy eyes, looked up, and saw their master and fellow disciples standing over them. They immediately fell to their knees, kowtowed, and cried, “Master, your old friend — those monks from the East — they were a bunch of vicious crooks!”
Zhenyuan comforted them and told them to recount what happened slowly. Clear Wind said, “Not long after you left, a monk from the East indeed came by. There were four of them, five including the horse.” — Hey, Little White Dragon must be feeling seen right now. Anyway, Clear Wind continued: “We followed your instructions. After we ascertained their identities, we harvested two ginseng fruits and presented them to him. But that monk is a foolish mortal and didn’t recognize our treasure. He said they were three-day-old infants and refused to eat them. So we each ate one. But who knew that there was certain Sun Wukong among his three disciples. First he stole four of the fruits and ate them. When we confronted them and spoke to them plainly, he couldn’t take it. He used some magic and, oh god …”.
When they got to that part of the story, the two acolytes started weeping and couldn’t go on. The others asked them, “Did that monk beat you?”
“No, he didn’t beat us,” Bright Moon said. “But he knocked over our ginseng fruit tree!”
Zhenyuan was irate. He told the acolytes, “Don’t cry; don’t cry! You aren’t aware of it, but that Sun Wukong is a rogue immortal. He once caused a ruckus in heaven and possesses great powers. And now he’s knocked over our tree. Would you recognize those monks if you saw them?”
Clear Wind said yes, so Zhenyuan told him, “In that case, come with me. As for the rest of you, prepare the instruments of torture. When I get back, we’ll beat him.”
So, while the other disciples prepared the torture devices — which honestly doesn’t sound like something you would expect to find at a Daoist immortal’s sanctuary — Master Zhenyuan and the two acolytes took to the sky in pursuit of the pilgrims. In the blink of an eye, they had traveled 350 miles. Zhenyuan looked westward from the clouds, but didn’t see any sign of his quarry. Then, he turned around, looked East, and realized he had overshot his target by about 300 miles. Even though the pilgrims had traveled through the night, they had only covered about 40 miles.
So Zhenyuan turned around and retraced his steps. When he was almost all the way back at his abbey, the acolytes called out, “Master, that’s the Tang monk sitting under that tree by the side of the road!”
“I see him,” Zhenyuan said. “You guys go back first and prepare ropes. I’ll capture them.”
So he descended from the clouds and turned into an itinerant priest to engage the pilgrims. And it didn’t take long for things to come to a head. As he confronted Sun Wukong, the latter grew angry, pulled out his golden rod, and took aim at Zhenyuan’s head. Zhenyuan quickly dodged the blow and soared into the sky.
Wukong followed him into the clouds and saw that Zhenyuan was no longer sporting the shabby appearance of an itinerant priest. Instead, he now wore a purple-gold crown and a crane-patterned robe tied around his waist by a silk ribbon. He had the body of a youth and the face of a beauty. Three whiskers fluttered beneath his chin, and his eyebrows resembled the plumes of crows.
Wukong continued to attack with his golden rod, and Zhenyuan parried a few of the blows with his jade whisk. Then, Zhenyuan showed his stuff. Summoning a spell called “Universe in his sleeve”, he merely waved his arm, and his sleeve became huge and enveloped all the pilgrims, including their horse.
“Ah crap! We’re trapped in a laundry bag!” Zhu Bajie cried.
“No, dum-dum! We’ve been scooped up into his sleeve!” Wukong said.
“Well that’s no problem. I’ll make a hole with my rake and we can slip out. We can just say he was not careful and didn’t trap us tightly enough.”
And so dum-dum started raking at the inside of the sleeve, but of course, he couldn’t even make a dent. He raked until his hands grew tired, and the sleeve remained as hard as steel.
Meanwhile, Zhenyuan flew back to the Five Villages Abbey. He sat down and told his disciples to bring ropes. Once the disciples were gathered, Zhenyuan reached into his sleeve, plucked out San Zang, and had him bound to a column in the center of the hall. He then plucked out the other three pilgrims one by one, and had them each tied up to a column as well. He then took out the horse, had it hitched outside, and gave it some grass. I bet this was the first time that Little White Dragon was glad everyone thought of him as just a horse. And finally, Zhenyuan pulled out the pilgrims’ luggage and tossed it on the steps.
“Pupils, these monks are men of religion, so we cannot use blades on them,” Zhenyuan said. “Bring out my leather whip and give them a good flogging so as to avenge my ginseng fruits!”
The disciples hurriedly brought out a whip. This whip wasn’t made from cowhide, goatskin, or any other kind of normal animal skin. Instead, it was made from dragon skin and sported seven thongs. Zhenyuan had the whip soaked in water, and then ordered a strong disciple to wield it.
“Master, which one should we flog first?” the disciple asked.
“Tang San Zang acted unworthily as the leader of his party. Flog him first!”
When Wukong heard that, he thought to himself, “My old monk can’t take a beating. If he gets roughed up from a round of flogging, the fault would be mine.”
So he quickly piped up and shouted to Zhenyuan, “Sir, you’re mistaken. I was the one who stole the fruits. I was the one who ate the fruits. I was also the one who knocked over your tree. Shouldn’t you flog me first instead of him?”
Zhenyuan chuckled, “Well this damn monkey talks a good game. Alright, flog him first.”
“How many lashes?” the disciple asked.
“Thirty, to match the number of ginseng fruits.”
So the disciple swung the whip and started going to town on Sun Wukong. Wukong kept a close eye on where his lashes were landing. When he saw the whip coming at his legs, he muttered, “Change!” and turned his legs into iron. The disciple delivered one lash after another, but Sun Wukong felt nothing at all. By the time the flogging was over, it was already near noon.
Now, Zhenyuan commanded his disciple, “We still need to whip San Zang for not instructing his disciples properly and allowing them to run rampant.”
So the disciple with the whip started to approach San Zang, but Wukong again shouted to Zhenyuan, “Sir, you’re mistaken again. When I stole the fruits, my master was wholly unaware. He was in the parlor, talking with your acolytes. My brothers and I were the ones who did the deed. Even if you fault him for not instructing us strictly enough, as his disciples, we should take the punishment on his behalf. You should just flog me again.”
Zhenyuan laughed. “This damn monkey may be shrewd and treacherous, but he does show some filial piety. Alright then, whip him again.”
So the disciple gave him another 30 lashes. By the time he was done, Wukong’s legs glowed like mirrors, and yet Wukong felt not even so much as an itch. It was now getting late, so Zhenyuan said, “Soak the whip in water overnight. We’ll flog them again tomorrow.”
His disciples did as he instructed, and then all went back to their rooms to eat and go to sleep. In the hall, San Zang wept and chided his disciples, “You three caused this calamity, and yet even I have to suffer. What should we do?”
“Master, forget who’s to blame for now,” Wukong said. “I was the one who took all the lashes. You didn’t suffer any floggings, and yet you’re the one moaning and groaning.”
“Even though they didn’t whip me, I’m sore from being tied up,” San Zang said.
“Master, we’re also tied up here alongside you,” Sha Zeng chimed in.
“Enough complaining,” Wukong told them all. “We still need to travel in a little bit.”
“Brother, there you go again!” Bajie griped. “We’re all tied up with wet ropes. It’s not like before, when we were just locked up in a room and you could just use a little magic to undo the locks.”
“Not to brag, but who’s afraid of their soaked ropes?” Wukong said. “Even if they are cables as thick as a bowl, they will be useless.”
As they chatted, the rest of the abbey soon fell into silence as everyone else went to sleep. And now, Sun Wukong shrank his body so that the ropes fell right off of him.
“Master, let’s go,” he said to San Zang.
“Hey brother, save us too!” Sha Zeng said.
“Not so loud,” Wukong said as he untied his companions. They tidied up their clothes, retrieved their horse and luggage, and slipped out of the abbey. Wukong then told Bajie, “Go to the cliff and bring back four willow trees.”
“What do you want with those?”
“I have my uses for them. Just hurry up and get them.”
So Bajie went over to the trees, used his snout to dig up four of them, and carried them over. Wukong stripped the branches off the trees and told Bajie to tie the trunks of the trees to the columns in the hall. He then muttered a spell, bit his tongue, and sprayed blood on the trees, shouting, “Change!”
In the blink of an eye, where there were once four willow tree trunks, there were now four doppelgangers in the exact likeness of the four pilgrims, trussed up to the columns. They even answered when you talked to them.
This done, Wukong and Bajie caught up to their party, and they once again fled through the night. When dawn came, San Zang was starting to doze off on his horse. Wukong saw this and shouted, “Master, you’re so useless. Monks are supposed to be able to tolerate suffering. I can go a thousand nights without sleeping and not feel tired. Alright, c’mon down off that horse. Don’t let others see you dozing off and laugh at you. Let’s rest in a quiet spot under that hill and then keep going.”
Meanwhile, back at the abbey, Master Zhenyuan rose with the sun, had breakfast, and got back to the business of flogging his prisoners. He said, “Today, it’s Tang San Zang’s turn.”
The disciple with the whip walked over to San Zang and said, “I’m going to flog you now.”
“Go ahead,” the willow doppelganger of San Zang replied.
So the disciple gave San Zang 30 lashes. He then walked over to Zhu Bajie and gave him 30, followed by 30 lashes on Sha Zeng. Finally, he walked over to Sun Wukong’s doppelganger and started flogging it.
At that moment, on the road leading away from the abbey, the real Sun Wukong suddenly shivered and said, “Uh oh.”
“What’s wrong?” San Zang asked.
“I turned four willow trees into doppelgangers of the four of us. I figured since they whipped me twice yesterday, they won’t flog me today. But now they’re flogging my doppelganger. That’s why I’m shivering. I need to stop the spell.”
So he muttered an incantation and canceled the spell. Back at the abbey, the disciple doing the flogging was so shocked that he dropped the whip and reported to Zhenyuan, “Master, I started flogging the monks, but then they all turned into willow trees!”
Zhenyuan chuckled and said, with a hint of admiration, “Sun Wukong, what a monkey king! I heard that when he turned heaven upside down, they laid down traps everywhere and still couldn’t catch him. I can see why. Well, if you wanted to flee, so be it. But why did you have to tie those willow trees here and lead me on? I can’t spare him. I’ll chase him down!”
As he spoke, Zhenyuan soared into the clouds and looked West. He saw the pilgrims traveling along the main road. So Zhenyuan descended and shouted, “Sun Wukong, stop! Return my ginseng fruit tree!”
“Ah crap! Our nemesis is here again!” Zhu Bajie shouted in alarm.
“Master, forget about mercy for a moment!” Wukong shouted to San Zang. “Let us commit some atrocities and finish him off so that we can get away.”
San Zang hesitated and did not give an answer. Meanwhile, his three disciples brandished their weapons, flew into the air, and surrounded Zhenyuan. But even though it was three-on-one, Zhenyuan parried their attacks without breaking a sweat. After about an hour of this, he once again called on his magic sleeve and scooped up all the pilgrims again.
Moments later, he landed back at the abbey and once again pulled out the pilgrims one by one from his sleeve and had them all bound. This time, San Zang, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Zeng were tied to trees in the courtyard, while Sun Wukong was trussed up on the ground.
“Well, looks like he’s going to interrogate me,” Wukong said.
Once the prisoners were all tied up, Zhenyuan ordered his disciples to bring out 10 bolts of cloth.
“Hey Bajie, this gentleman is so kind; he wants to make clothes for us,” Wukong joked with his fellow disciple.
When the bolts of cloth were brought out, Zhenyuan commanded, “Wrap Tang San Zang, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Zeng in the cloth!”
As the disciples busied themselves wrapping up his three companions, Wukong chuckled, “Ah great! We’re about to be buried alive!”
Once the wrapping was done, Zhenyuan told his disciples to bring out some homemade lacquer and cover the three wrapped pilgrims in lacquer, leaving only their head and face exposed. Now, this is just getting weird as far as punishments go.
“Hey Mr.,” Bajie shouted toward Zhenyuan. “It’s fine if you cover up my head, but leave a hole at the bottom, just in case we need to relieve ourselves.”
Zhenyuan ignored him and told his disciples to bring out a big cauldron.
“Hey Bajie, isn’t this great?” Wukong joked again. “They are setting up a cauldron to cook for us.”
“Just as well,” Bajie said, in all earnestness. “Give us some rice so we can at least die with full bellies.”
As they chattered, the disciples set up the cauldron and started a roaring fire under it. Once the cauldron was nice and scalding, Zhenyuan told his disciples, “Fill the cauldron with clear oil. Once it’s hot, toss Sun Wukong in there and fry him, so as to avenge my tree!”
Wukong, however, secretly rejoiced and said, “This is perfect. I haven’t had a bath in awhile, and my skin is getting itchy. A good hot soak will feel great!”
Within moments, the oil in the cauldron was bubbling. Now, despite all his joking around, Wukong was wary of actually being tossed into the cauldron, since he didn’t know if this was a magical cauldron or something. So he looked around and saw a stone lion statue standing to the east of the terrace. He rolled over toward the lion, bit his tongue, sprayed some blood on the statue, and shouted, “Change!”
Just like that, the lion turned into Sun Wukong’s doppelganger and lay there tied up. The real Wukong, meanwhile, secretly slipped away and flew into the clouds to watch the fun.
When the disciples told Zhenyuan that the oil was boiling, Zhenyuan told them to chuck Sun Wukong in. Four disciples went over to pick up Sun Wukong from the ground, but couldn’t even move him. So four more came over to help, and then four more, and still they couldn’t lift him off the ground.
“This monkey won’t budge!” they exclaimed. “He may be little, but he’s really solid.”
Eventually, 20 disciples huffed and puffed and managed to pick up Sun Wukong. They carried him over to the cauldron and tossed him in. There was a huge crash and a big splash, and a ton of oil splattered out, leaving scald marks on several disciples’ faces.
“The cauldron is leaking! The cauldron is leaking!” the disciple watching the fire cried.
Before long, all the oil leaked out from the bottom of the cauldron. When the disciples took a look in the broken cauldron, they saw that instead of Sun Wukong, there was a stone lion.
“Damn monkey! How rude you are!” Master Zhenyuan fumed. “He pulled his dirty tricks again! If you want to flee, then just flee. Why did you have to bust up my stove?! This damn monkey is impossible to catch. It’s like trying to knead sand, play with mercury, snatch shadows, or catch the wind. Fine, let him go. Take down Tang San Zang. Set up a new cauldron and toss HIM in there to avenge my tree.”
As the disciples busied themselves carrying out this new order, Wukong heard everything from the air and thought to himself, “If my master ends up in the cauldron, he’ll die in an instant, get charred in two, and disintegrate in five. I must save him.”
So he quickly descended from the clouds, greeted Zhenyuan, and said, “Don’t tear up your cloth. I’ve come to jump into the cauldron.”
Caught off guard, Zhenyuan cursed him, “Damn monkey! Why did you bust up my stove?!”
“Heh, it’s your bad luck that you ran into me. Why is it my fault? I was going to take you up on your gracious offer of a hot oil bath, but I had to use the bathroom. I didn’t want to go in the cauldron and spoil your oil, because then you can’t cook with it. Ok, I’m all good on No. 1 and No. 2 now. I’m ready to go into the cauldron. No need to cook my master; just cook me.”
Zhenyuan chuckled, walked out into the courtyard, seized Wukong by the arm, and said, “I know you’ve got skills. And I am aware of your reputation. But today, no matter how many tricks you play or how high you soar, you cannot escape my clutches. Even if we go all the way to the West to see your Buddha, you’d still need to return my ginseng fruit tree. So cut it out with your tricks.”
Wukong laughed. “Listen to you; you’re so petty. If you just wanted your tree to live again, that’s no problem! If you had said so sooner, it could’ve saved us all this squabbling.”
“I won’t squabble with you; I’m willing to spare you!”
“How about you release my master, and I’ll bring your tree back to life?”
“If you have the power to revive my tree, then I will become sworn brothers with you.”
“No problem,” Wukong declared. “Release them, and I will revive your tree.”
Zhenyuan figured these guys couldn’t escape him anyway, so he immediately ordered his disciples to release the other three pilgrims. Once freed, Sha Zeng said to San Zang, “Master, what trickery is brother Sun up to?”
Bajie cut in and spouted, “What trickery? It’s called putting on a good act. The tree is dead; how can it be brought back to life?! He’s just stringing everyone along. He’s going to pretend to go look for a cure for that tree, but he’ll slip away, nevermind what happens to you and me!”
“No, he would never abandon us,” San Zang said. “Let’s ask him where he’s going to find a cure.”
So he called Wukong over and asked, “How did you trick that immortal into letting us go?”
“It’s no trick; I meant every word,” Wukong said.
“Then where are you going to find the cure?”
“As the ancients said, ‘The cure comes from the sea.’ So I’m going to go to the vast ocean in the East, scour all the islands and continents, and seek out all the sages and immortals to find a cure for reviving the dead, so that I can bring his tree back to life.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Just three days.”
“In that case, we’ll do as you say,” San Zang told him. “You have three days’ time. If you come back in three days, then all’s well. If you don’t, then I’m going to recite the Band-Tightening Spell.”
“Got it; got it,” Wukong reassured him. He then tidied up his clothes,walked over to Zhenyuan, and said, “Sir, don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. But you must treat my master well. You must not neglect the usual three tea services and six meals each day. If you do, I’ll come settle the score with you and poke another hole in your cauldron. If his clothes get dirty, have them washed. If he shows any sign of hunger, that won’t fly with me. If he looks skinnier, I won’t leave.”
“You go on; I’ll make sure he won’t go hungry,” Zhenyuan reassured him.
And with that, Sun Wukong somersaulted into the air and flew East. To see where he will find this miracle cure, 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
- “Ravines” by Elphnt (from YouTube audio library)
- “Day of Recon” by Max Surla/Media Right Productions (from YouTube audio library)