Journey 041: Return of the King
Zhu Bajie gets even with Sun Wukong, and then gets some help with the luggage.
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Transcript
Welcome to the Chinese Lore Podcast, where I retell classic Chinese stories in English. This is episode 41 of Journey to the West.
Last time, we left off with Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie having just retrieved the body of the murdered king of the Wuji Kingdom. But Bajie was holding a grudge against Wukong because the latter had woken him up in the middle of the night and made him lug a corpse around through a combination of trickery and threats. So Bajie was going to get even by telling their master San Zang that Wukong could revive the dead king without having to go to the underworld.
Soon, they had arrived back at the mountain monastery where their party was staying. They went in and laid the corpse in front of the meditation hall that housed the pilgrims. San Zang had been unable to sleep while the two of them were out recovering the body. He was chatting with the third disciple, Sha Zeng, when he heard Bajie call for him to come out and have a look.
“What do you want me to see?” San Zang asked as he got up.
“Oh it’s Wukong’s granddaddy; the monkey had me carry him back,” Bajie said.
“You damn dum-dum!” Wukong snapped. “How would I have a grandfather?!”
“Well, if he wasn’t your grandfather, why did you make me carry him all this way?” Bajie snapped back.
San Zang and Sha Zeng came out. They saw that the king’s visage had not changed with time and looked as though he were still alive. San Zang said with sadness, “Oh your highness, in which previous life time did you make an enemy. And to encounter him again in this lifetime, to be murdered, to lose your wife and child, and to have none of your officials be aware of it. And with your family having been in the dark, you haven’t had anyone to offer incense and tea to you.”
As he spoke, San Zang couldn’t help but start to weep, but Bajie chuckled, “Master, what’s it to you that he’s dead? He’s not YOUR ancestor, so why are you weeping over him?!”
“Pupil, a monk should make compassion his core essence. How can you be so cold-hearted?”
“I’m not cold-hearted. It’s just that brother Wukong told me he could bring this guy back to life. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have carried him back.”
Taken in by Bajie’s words, San Zang said to Wukong, “If you have a way to revive this king, then as the saying goes, ‘Saving a life is worth more than building a seven-story pagoda.’ And it would be better than us just praying to the Buddha.”
“Master, how can you believe that dum-dum?” Wukong scoffed. “After someone dies, once 49 days have elapsed, they would’ve finished undergoing the punishments of the living and been reincarnated. He’s been dead for three years. How can I revive him?!”
San Zang was ready to leave it at that, but Bajie wasn’t. He cut in and said, “Master, don’t be fooled by that monkey. He must be a little muddle-headed. You should recite the band-tightening spell and make him revive the king.”
San Zang listened to him and started to recite the spell. Unable to bear the headache, Wukong pleaded, “Master, stop reciting the spell! I’ll revive him!”
“How will you do it?” San Zang asked.
“I’ll have to go to the underworld and find out which of the kings of hell has his soul, and get it back from him.”
Bajie, however, cut in again. “Master, don’t believe him. He told me he didn’t need to go to the underworld, that he had the skills to revive the king while staying in the world of the living.”
Believing him again, San Zang resumed reciting the spell. Wukong hurriedly said, “Fine, fine, I’ll revive him in the world of the living!”
“Don’t stop, master, just keep reciting the spell,” Bajie egged on San Zang.
“You dum-dum! Why are you making master curse me?” Wukong fumed at Bajie.
Zhu Bajie now fell over laughing. “Oh brother! You only figured that you could play tricks on me; you never thought that I could return the favor!”
“Master, stop reciting the spell! I’ll revive the king in the world of the living!” Wukong begged San Zang.
“How will you do it in the world of the living?” San Zang asked.
“I’ll fly to heaven to see Laozi and ask him for one of his Nine-Turn Soul-Restoring Pills. That’ll revive the king.”
San Zang was satisfied with that answer and told Wukong to hurry up. Wukong said, “It’s 3 a.m. now. By the time I get back, it’s going to be light out. It’s unseemly for the king to lie out here all alone. Someone must watch him and weep over him.”
“Oh here we go!” Bajie grumbled. “This monkey must want me to cry.”
“If you don’t, then I wouldn’t be able to revive him.”
“Brother, you go on your way, and I’ll take care of the crying.”
“Now, there are several types of crying,” Wukong said. “If you just open your mouth and shout, that’s called howling. When you wrench a few tears out, that’s called wailing. Only when you cry with real tears and with genuine feeling in your heart can it truly be called a howling, wailing, grief-stricken cry.”
“Well then, let me show you my cry,” Bajie said. He found a scrap of paper, rolled it up and poked it in his nostrils a couple times, making his nose run. His eyes then got watery, and he started to cry. With tears flowing from his eyes and saliva dripping from his mouth, he babbled incessantly about this and that, acting like someone in mourning. He was so convincing, in fact, that even San Zan started to shed some tears.
Wukong laughed, “That’s exactly the way you need to cry; now don’t stop. Don’t trick me into going and then stop crying. I can hear you. If you keep crying, then all’s well. But if you stop, I’ll beat you 20 times!”
Bajie laughed as well and told him, “Go on! Once I start crying, I can keep it up for two days!”
Sha Zeng now added some atmosphere by lighting a few sticks of incense, which made Wukong chuckle, “Great! Only with everyone showing some sincerity can I succeed.”
Wukong then soared into the night sky and made his way up to Laozi’s palace. He found Laozi sitting in his pill refinery, fanning the flames of his cauldron with his young acolytes. As soon as he saw Wukong, Laozi said to his acolytes with alarm, “Be on your guard. That pill thief is here again!”
Wukong bowed and said, “Hey old man. What nonsense is this? Why are you wary of me? I don’t do that stuff anymore.”
“You monkey! When you turned heaven upside down 500 years ago, you ate a countless number of my magic pills. And then when you were captured, I put you in my cauldron for 49 days, going through god knows how much coal. You were fortunate to escape and now you’ve turned to Buddhism and are protecting the Tang monk on his pilgrimage. Last time I saw you, it was on Flat-Top Mountain, where you had tamed the demons but tried to keep my treasures. What are you doing here today?”
“Look, last time I didn’t hesitate to return your treasures, so why do you still not trust me?” Wukong asked.
“Why did you slip into my palace instead of heading West?” Laozi pressed.
So Wukong recounted their adventures with the dead king, and then said, “My master wants me to resurrect the king without going to the underworld to fetch his soul. I figured there was no other way except to come to you. Please take pity and give me a thousand or so of your Nine-Turn Soul-Restoring Pills so I can revive him.”
“What nonsense!” Laozi scoffed. “You want a thousand pills? Are you going to eat them like rice?! This stuff doesn’t grow out of the ground, you know! Get out of here; I don’t have any!”
“Ok, I’ll take just a hundred or so,” Wukong said with a laugh.
“I don’t have that many either.”
“Just 10 would do then.”
“Damn monkey!” Laozi said angrily. “You just don’t give up, do you?! I don’t have any! Get out of here!”
“Well, if you really don’t have any, then I’ll go elsewhere,” Wukong said with a smile.
“Fine, go! Go!”
As Wukong turned to leave, however, a thought suddenly crossed Laozi’s mind. “This monkey is a slippery one. He may say he’s leaving, but he might slip back in here and steal the pills.”
So he told his acolytes to call Wukong back and told him, “You’re a shady monkey, so I’ll just give you one of my Soul-Restoration Pills.”
“Old man, since you know my skills, hurry up and bring out your pills. We’ll split them 40-60, and you can count your blessings. Otherwise, I’ll come back and take them all.”
Laozi took out his gourd, turned it upside down and dispensed one single golden pill. He handed it to Wukong and said, “That’s all. Take it and go! Use the pill to resurrect that king, and you can take credit for it.”
Taking the pill, Wukong said, “Not so fast. Let me try it first, just in case it’s fake.”
So he tossed the pill into his mouth. Laozi hurriedly grabbed him with one hand and conked him on the head with the other, cursing, “Damn monkey! If you swallow that, I’m gonna kill you!”
Wukong laughed, “Look how petty you are. Who wants to eat your pill? How much could it be worth? Look, it’s right here!”
Turns out, he had just stashed the pill in his cheek pouch. He let Laozi feel the pill through the skin, and that satisfied Laozi, who said, “Fine, be gone! Don’t come bother me again!”
Wukong thanked him and flew off. The sun was coming up when he landed back outside the monastery. He could hear Zhu Bajie still wailing as he entered and greeted San Zang. San Zang asked Wukong if he had obtained an elixir, but Bajie cut in and said, “Of course he has. By hook or crook, he would’ve gotten some!”
Wukong laughed and told Bajie, “Brother, there’s no need for you here now. Wipe your tears and go cry somewhere else.”
He then instructed Sha Zeng to go fetch some water. Sha Zeng went to the well in the back and brought back half a bowl of water. Wukong took the bowl, spat out the magic pill from his cheek pouch, put it between the lips of the dead king, opened the king’s jaws with his hands, and washed the pill down with the water.
An hour later, a gurgling sound arose from the king’s belly, but his body showed no movement.
“Master, if this pill can’t revive him, are you going to torture me to death with the band-tightening spell?” Wukong asked.
“How can it not work?” San Zang said. “He has been dead for so long, how could he swallow water if the magic pill isn’t working? The pill has reached his stomach, and his intestines are singing. That means his blood is flowing again. But his vital breath is cut off and can’t extend itself. After soaking in the well for three years, even iron would rust, much less a person. His own vital breath is gone, so someone needs to give him a mouthful of air.”
Zhu Bajie rolled up his sleeve and was about to do just that, but San Zang pulled him back and said, “No, let Wukong do it.”
So, according to the novel, the reason San Zang wanted Sun Wukong to give mouth-to-mouth was because Zhu Bajie had a history of biting his own pig mother to death and eating people, so his breath was tainted, whereas Sun Wukong grew up cultivating his Dao and eating fruits and such, so his breath was pure.
Wukong stepped forth, put his lips to the king’s, and blew a breath down the king’s throat. With a whoosh, the king came back to life, sat up, fell to his knees and cried out, “Master! I still remember how I pleaded to you last night as a ghost. Who knew that today I would be back in the world of the living!”
San Zang hurriedly helped him up and said, “Your highness, I can’t take any credit. You should thank my disciple.”
But Wukong chuckled, “Master, cut it out. As the saying goes, ‘One house cannot have two masters.’ It’s fine for you to accept a bow from him.”
But San Zang still felt sheepish about it. He helped the king up and they walked back into the meditation hall together, met the rest of the party, and sat down. Just then, the monks in the monastery came by to deliver breakfast, and they were astonished to see the king, sitting there in dripping wet royal regalia. As they whispered amongst themselves, Wukong went outside and told them, “Don’t be suspicious. He is the king of the Wuji Kingdom, your true lord. Three years ago a demon killed him, but I revived him last night. We’re just about to head into the city to set things straight. If breakfast is ready, bring it. We’ll eat and then be on our way.”
So the monks brought some hot water for the king to wash up. He then changed out of his royal regalia and put on some monk clothes from the abbot, tied the robes together with a yellow silk cord, and donned a pair of worn monk shoes. The pilgrims then ate breakfast and prepared to head out.
Wukong now asked Bajie how heavy their luggage was, and Bajie answered, “Brother, I carry the luggage day in and day out, but I don’t know how much it weighs.”
“Divide the load into two,” Wukong told him. “You carry one load and let the king carry the other, and let’s hurry up into the city to do our thing.”
Now THAT made Bajie pretty darn happy. “What great luck!” he rejoiced. “I spent all that effort carrying his body back, but now that he’s revived, he can fill in for me.”
So Bajie divided the luggage into two loads and borrowed a second shoulder pole from the monastery. Now of course, he saved the lighter load for himself and gave the heavier one to the king. Wukong chuckled and told the king, “Your highness, it must be beneath you to dress this way and carry a load while traveling with us.”
The king quickly kneeled and said, “Master, you’re like my parents reborn! I am willing to do anything to serve you and follow you to the West, so what’s carrying a little bit of luggage?”
“Oh I don’t need you to follow me to the West,” Wukong said. “But there’s a reason I’m asking you to do this. Just carry the load for 15 miles. Once we enter the city and capture the demon, you’ll go back to being king, and we’ll go back to fetching scripture.”
Bajie grumbled, “What? So he’s only carrying it for 15 miles, and then I go back to being an indentured servant?!”
“Brother, enough nonsense! Let’s hit the road,” Wukong chided him.
So Zhu Bajie and the king led the way with their loads, while Sha Zeng accompanied San Zang, who rode on his horse, and Sun Wukong followed behind. All 500-some monks at the monastery lined up and played music to send them off. Wukong laughed and told them, “No need to see us out. I worry that the court might catch wind of this and it would spoil my plan. Hurry back inside. But, clean that king’s royal robes. Either tonight or tomorrow morning, deliver them into the city, and I’ll ask for some reward money for you.”
So the monks went on back, and Wukong caught up to the rest of the pilgrims. Master and disciples now traveled together for half a day and saw a city come into view.
“Wukong, that must be the Wuji Kingdom up ahead,” San Zang said.
“Indeed,” Wukong replied. “Let’s hurry into the city and carry out our plan.”
When they entered the city, they saw a busy, prosperous scene on the streets. They also noticed an impressive palace. San Zang dismounted and told his disciples, “Let’s go into the palace to get our travel papers. That way we don’t need to waste time at the magistrate’s office.”
“Quite right,” Wukong agreed. “Let’s all go into the palace. There’s advantage in numbers.”
“Ok, but don’t act up,” San Zang cautioned. “Let’s first greet them with civility and decorum befitting the court, and then we’ll say our piece.”
“Does that mean we have to kneel to him?” Wukong asked.
“Indeed. We have to kowtow.”
Well, we know how Sun Wukong feels about bending the knee to anyone, much less a demon.
“Master, that won’t do at all!” he said with a laugh. “It’s not smart to kowtow to him first. Just follow my lead, and I’ll handle it. If he asks anything, let me answer. If I bow, then you all bow. If I kneel, then you all kneel.”
So Wukong went in front and headed to the palace entrance. He told the official at the gate, “We’re pilgrims sent by the Great Tang kingdom in the East to go West to see the Buddha and fetch scriptures. We’re here to exchange our travel papers. Please announce us so as to avoid delaying our mission.”
The official went in, kneeled in the main hall, and relayed to the fake king that there were five scripture pilgrims outside. The demon summoned them in. As the pilgrims walked through the palace, the real king couldn’t help but shed a tear as he thought to himself, “Pity! My strong kingdom has been usurped by that demon!”
Wukong, though, told him, “Your highness, don’t be sad or it’ll blow our cover. My golden rod is itching to leap out of my ear for some action. We will succeed for sure. I’ll kill the demon and cleanse the evil, and your kingdom will soon belong to you again.”
The king obeyed him, wiped away his tears, and followed them to the court. There, two rows of civil and military officials lined up, all looking serious and majestic. The pilgrims, with Wukong at their head, stood in front of the white jade steps and refused to bow. All the officials were taken aback and said, “These monks are too foolish. You’re facing our king. How come you are not bowing or even saying a word of greeting? You’re too rude!”
Just then, the demon spoke from the throne, “You monks, where are you from?”
Wukong looked up and answered boldly, “We are sent by the Great Tang Kingdom to go West to the Great Thunderclap Temple to see the Buddha and request scriptures. We were passing through here and decided to come exchange our travel papers instead of just passing you by.”
The demon said angrily, “So what if you’re from the East?! We don’t send your kingdom any tribute, nor do we have any dealings with it. How dare you refuse to bow to me?!”
Wukong laughed and replied, “The East is an ancient, divine state, an elite kingdom. You are a low-level border state. As the old saying goes, ‘The monarch of the large kingdom is the father and lord, while the monarch of the small kingdom is the vassal and son.’ Yet not only did you not welcome us, but you dare to complain that we didn’t bow to you?”
The demon was enraged and ordered his officials to seize the pilgrims. The officials were just about to pounce, but Wukong pointed at them and said, “Stop!”
Just like that, all the court officials were frozen in their tracks, unable to move. Seeing this, the demon leaped out of his throne and made for the pilgrims himself. Wukong secretly rejoiced, thinking, “Great! That’s exactly what I wanted. Even if his head is made of steel, my rod will leave a hole!”
Wukong was just about to go at it with the demon, but someone suddenly leaped out from the side, clutched the demon’s robes, kneeled, and said, “Father, please calm down!”
This was none other than the prince. The demon asked him why he intervened, and the prince said, “Three years ago, I heard people say that the Tang kingdom in the East was sending a sage monk to the West to see the Buddha and fetch scriptures. Who knew they only showed up in our land today. Father, you have an explosive temper. But if you execute these monks, the Tang court will no doubt be enraged if they find out. That Tang emperor established himself on his throne and unified his kingdom, but he’s still not satisfied. He is waging wars overseas. If you execute his royal brethren and sage monk, he will surely wage war against us. Then we would be outnumbered and it would be too late for regrets. Please listen to me, and question these monks carefully first. You must first establish that they have disrespected the throne. Only then can you punish them.”
So the prince was doing all this out of concern for San Zang’s safety, not realizing that it was Sun Wukong’s plan all along to antagonize the demon into attacking so he could dish out a beatdown. But the demon listened to the prince. He stood in front of his throne and shouted, “Monks, when did you leave the East? Why did the Tang emperor send you to fetch scripture?”
Wukong replied, “My master is the imperial brother of the Tang emperor. His name is San Zang. The Tang emperor’s prime minister once executed an old dragon king. That led to the Tang emperor taking a trip through the underworld in his dream. When he returned to the land of the living, he held a Grand Mass of Water and Land to save the souls of the unjustly slain. My master is learned and compassionate, so he was instructed by the Bodhisattva Guanyin to head West. My master swore an oath to do so out of loyalty to his kingdom. So he was dispatched by the emperor. Upon leaving the East, at Twin Borders Mountain, he took me in as his senior disciple. My name is Sun Wukong. Then, at Gao Family Village, he took in his second disciple, Zhu Bajie. At the Drifting Sand River, he took in his third disciple, Sha Zeng. And a couple days ago at the Sacred Woods Royal Monastery, he took in a lay brother to serve as a porter and acolyte.”
This detailed answer gave the demon no opening to question their backstory, but he asked San Zang angrily, “Monk, you were alone when you left the East, and then you took in four disciples. Those three other monks are fine, but this lay brother — you must have abducted him! What’s his name? Does he have an official ordination license?! Present it to me!”
The real king started to tremble and whispered to Wukong, “Master, what should I do?”
But Wukong held him steady and said, “Don’t worry; I’ll handle it.”
He stepped forth and said sternly to the demon, “Your highness, this old layman is a mute, and he’s a bit hard of hearing. But he went to the West when he was young, so he knows the way. I know his whole backstory, so allow me to answer for him.”
“Tell me his true background immediately, or you’ll be punished!” the demon threatened.
Wukong told the demon:
“This acolyte is getting on in years,
He’s struck both deaf and dumb, and bankrupt too.
Long has his family lived in this region,
Till five years ago catastrophe struck.
No rain fell, and the people suffered drought;
Monarch and commoners all kept and fast.
Incense was burned amid their prayers to Heaven,
But for hundreds of miles no clouds could be seen.
When all of the people were in agonies of hunger,
A wizard from Zhongnan (4,2) Mountain suddenly arrived.
He showed his great powers to bring the wind and rain,
Then secretly he murdered the ruler of the country,
Pushing him down the well in the palace’s garden,
Taking the throne himself in the king’s own likeness.
Luckily I came along and did a great deed,
Raising the dead and restoring him to life.
Then he volunteered to act as our porter
And go to the West together with us monks.
The false king is that evil wizard;
The lay brother is in fact the true king in disguise.”
When the demon heard that, he knew the jig was up. His face became flushed, and he turned to flee. As he did so, he saw that one of the frozen-in-place officers of the royal guard was wearing a knife around his waist. So the demon grabbed the knife, soared into the air, and flew off.
This left Sha Zeng steaming and Zhu Bajie yelling as they griped at Wukong, “You should’ve taken a softer approach and calmed him down, and then you would’ve had him. But now he’s flown away. How would we track him down?”
Wukong laughed, “Brothers, stop your racket. Let’s have that prince come pay his respects to his father, and have the queen come out to pay her respects to her husband first.”
Then he released the court officials from his spell. He then told his brothers, “Have those officials come meet their true king. Once all that is sorted out, then I’ll go find the demon.”
After all that was taken care of, Wukong told Bajie and Sha Zeng to protect the king, his family, and of course their master San Zang. Then, he soared into the air and set his gaze in every direction in search of the demon. He spotted his quarry fleeing toward the northeast, so Wukong set off after him, shouting, “Hey demon! Where are you going?! Here I come!”
The demon turned and saw Wukong. He pulled out his knife and roared, “Sun Wukong, you scoundrel! What’s it to you that I usurped someone else’s throne? Why did you meddle in my business and blow my cover?!”
“You’ve got some nerve, damn demon!” Wukong shot back with a laugh. “How can you be king? Since you know who I am, then you should’ve known better than to try to threaten my master just now! Don’t run! If you’re a hero, then have a taste of my rod!”
To see how this fight will turn out, 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