Journey 051: Child’s Play
The pilgrims discover their hosts’ woeful backstory and offer to help.
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Transcript
Welcome to the Chinese Lore Podcast, where I retell classic Chinese stories in English. This is episode 51 of Journey to the West.
Last time, after ridding the Slow-Cart Kingdom of three demon Daoist priests, the pilgrims resumed their journey West until they hit another obstacle. And the big wheel of trials and tribulations says that this week’s challenge was … another river. This one was so deep and wide that the pilgrims couldn’t see a way across. And it was getting late, so they found lodging in a settlement near the river. Zhu Bajie then scared off the monks who were performing some kind of ceremony in the house, and proceeded to wow everyone by gorging himself like a pig on the leftover food.
After dinner, San Zang thanked the two old men who had taken him in and asked for their names. The two men, who were brothers, told him that their last name was Chen. San Zang pressed his palms together and said, “Hey we’re family!”
“Elder, your last name is Chen as well?” the old men asked.
“Indeed,” San Zang replied. “May I ask what ritual you were conducting earlier?”
Bajie chuckled, “Master, why are you asking? It has to be something like ‘Vegetarian Offering for Longevity’, a ‘Peace-Blessing Feast,’ or a ‘Completion Ritual Feast.’ ”
“Not so, not so,” the old men said.
“Then what was the feast for?” San Zang asked again.
“This was a ‘Prearranged Funeral Feast for the Living,’ ” the old men told him.
Bajie almost doubled over laughing. “Old sirs, you’re a poor judge of character. We’re expert liars and exaggerators. So how can you fool us with that hogwash?! How can monks not know the ins and outs of ritual feasts? There are only pre-arranged feasts for merit transfer or repayment. How can there be a Prearranged Funeral Feast? No one in your family has died yet, so why are you holding a funeral ritual?”
Hearing this, Wukong was secretly impressed, thinking to himself, “That dum-dum has wised up a bit. The old men are indeed in error. What is this ‘Prearranged Funeral Feast?’ ”
But the two old men now asked, “How did you come to be here instead of following the main road on your pilgrimage?”
Wukong answered, “We did travel along the main road, but a wide river blocked our path and we couldn’t cross. We heard the sound of cymbals, so we came here to ask for lodging.”
“Did you see anything on the river bank?” the old men asked.
“We only saw a stone tablet. It said the name of the river was the Heaven-Penetrating River, and it described it as 300 miles wide and rarely traversed. That was all.”
“If you keep going upriver along the bank for half a mile, you’ll see a temple dedicated to the Great King of Numinous Power. Did you not see that?”
“No, please tell me: What is that Numinous Power?”
“Oh elder! They say his divine responses inspired temples everywhere,
And his mighty power protects the people for a thousand miles.
Year after year he bestows sweet rain upon the estate,
And every season auspicious clouds descend upon the villages.”
“Bringing sweet rain and auspicious clouds are good things,” Wukong said. “So why are you so grief-stricken about it?”
The old men stamped their feet, beat their chests, and let out a bitter cry:
“Oh elder!
Though he grants many favors, there is enmity;
Though he shows kindness, he still harms people.
For he demands to eat young boys and girls—
Such a being is no true and upright god!”
“What? Eat boys and girls?!” Wukong asked.
“Indeed.”
“And I’m betting it’s your family’s turn, right?”
“Yes, this year is our turn. Our settlement has 100 households. We are within the jurisdiction of the Slow-Cart Kingdom. This is called the Chen Family Village. That Great King demands an annual sacrifice — a boy and a girl, along with pigs and sheep. He eats them all in one go, and then ensures that we have fair weather. If we don’t provide him with a sacrifice, then he would bring calamity upon us.”
“And how many sons do you have?” Wukong asked.
The older old man beat his chest and lamented, “Oh pity! What sons?! I’m so ashamed. This is my younger brother. His name is Chen Qing (1). My name is Chen Cheng (2). I’m 63, and he’s 58. Children have been hard to come by. I was childless at age 50. My family and friends pressed me to take a concubine. I gave in and married one, and she bore me a daughter, who’s only 8 this year. We gave her the name Pound of Gold.”
“Wow, fancy name!” Bajie said. “Why is she called Pound of Gold?”
“Because I was having trouble getting a child, I did a lot of good deeds — repairing bridges, building roads, constructing monasteries, erecting pagodas, and holding feasts for monks. Whatever money I spend on those deeds, I kept track of the expense in a ledger. The year my daughter was born, the total happened to be a pound of gold, hence her name.”
“And what about the boy?” Wukong asked.
“My younger brother has a son, also born of a concubine. He’s 7 this year. His name is Chen Guanbao (1,3).”
Guanbao, by the way, means Blessed by Guan. Wukong asked for the reason behind the name, and Chen Cheng (2) explained, “Our family worships Lord Guan.” And Lord Guan, by the way, is none other than Guan Yu, the legendary warrior from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms.
“We prayed at the altar of Lord Guan for a son and that wish was granted,” Chen Cheng continued. “Hence his name. My brother and I are more than 100 years old combined, and we only have these two children. But it’s our turn to provide the sacrifice, and we dare not refuse. It’s unbearable to give up our children. So we are holding a preemptive reincarnation ritual for them. That’s why it’s called a Prearranged Funeral Feast.”
That backstory brought San Zang to tears, and he wept, “This is just as the ancients said, ‘The young plums are falling before the old plums, and heaven torments those without children.’ ”
Wukong, however, laughed and asked Chen Cheng, “Old sir, how much property do you have?”
“We’ve got some. We have about 80 acres of wet farmland and 100-some acres of dry farmland. We also have about 90 plots of pasture land, 300 water buffaloes, 20-some donkeys and horses, and countless pigs, sheep, chicken, and geese. We have more grain than we can eat, and more clothes than we can wear. And we have plenty of money.”
“Well then, you’re such a cheapskate,” Wukong said.
“What do you mean?”
“With that much property, how can you bear to sacrifice your own children? Why don’t you spend 50 taels of silver to buy a young boy, and spend another 100 taels of silver to buy a young girl. That wouldn’t cost you more than 200 taels of silver, and you can keep your children to continue your line.”
So umm … now we’re talking about buying, selling, and sacrificing someone else’s children instead of your own. Somehow that doesn’t seem like a Buddha-sanctioned solution to this problem. But hey, at least Sun Wukong is suggesting they pay more for a girl than a boy. Umm, yay for the fairer sex?
Anyway, the two old men wept and told him, “Elder, you don’t understand. That Great King comes by our house a lot.”
“Oh? Did y’all see what he looks like?”
“We never see him. We just smell a fragrant breeze and that’s the sign of his coming. Then we hurriedly offer incense and kowtow toward the wind. He knows all the details about our household, including the birth dates and times of everyone. He will only accept our own children. Putting aside the fact that you can’t buy two kids for two or three hundred taels of silver. Even if we had tens of thousands of taels, where would we find a boy and a girl with the exact appearance and exact birth dates?
“Ah so that’s it,” Wukong said. “Alright. Bring out your son and let me have a look at him.”
The younger old man, Chen Qing (1), hurried to the back and returned with his son in his arms. He set the boy down in the light. The kid had no inkling of the fate awaiting him and just danced around, ate, and played.
Wukong observed him for a moment, and then muttered an incantation, twisted his body, and turned into a perfect doppelganger of the boy. The two identical boys now played hand-in-hand under the light.
Chen Qing fell to his knees and said to San Zang in a panic, “Sir, this is not right! That elder was just talking; how did he turn into an exact copy of my son? He even sounds and acts like him! This is going to take years off my life! Please, elder, show your true form!”
Wukong ran his hand over his face and turned back into himself. The old man kneeled in front of him and exclaimed, “Elder, turns out you have such powers!”
“Heh, did I look like your son?” Wukong asked with a chuckle.
“You did! You were just like him in appearance, voice, clothing, and height!”
“You haven’t even had a close look yet. Come pick me up and see if I weigh the same as him.”
“Yes, yes, you do!”
“Would I pass for him for the sacrifice?”
“You would! You would!”
“Then I’m going to take your son’s place, so that your family line can go on. I’ll go face that demon king.”
Chen Qing kowtowed and said, “Sir, if you can exercise compassion and take my son’s place, I will offer 1,000 taels of silver as travel money for your master’s pilgrimage.”
“But how are you going to thank me?” Wukong asked.
“Well … if you’re taking my son’s place in the sacrifice, you would be dead.”
“How so?”
“That demon king would have eaten you.”
“Oh he wouldn’t dare! We’ll see what fate heaven has in store for me. If he eats me, then I’m destined for a short life. If he doesn’t, then I’m lucky.”
Chen Qing kept kowtowing to thank Wukong, and he presented Wukong with 500 taels of silver. But his older brother, Chen Cheng, just leaned against the door and cried. Wukong took hold of him and said, “Sir, you haven’t thanked me yet. Are you unwilling to part with your daughter?”
Chen Cheng kneeled and said, “Yes, indeed! I’m grateful that you are saving my nephew. That’s more than enough. But I have no son and only this one daughter. How could I bear to lose her?”
“Then go cook five ladles of rice and prepare some good vegetarian dishes for that long-snout brother of mine, and ask him to turn into your daughter. Then he and I will go to the sacrifice together and save both kids.”
Zhu Bajie was alarmed when he heard that. “Brother, you and your shenanigans! Why are you pulling me in? You don’t care if I live or die!”
“Oh brother, as the saying goes, ‘Even roosters don’t eat food that they haven’t worked for.’ ” Wukong told him. “We were treated with a generous feast when we arrived here, and you were still complaining about not getting enough. So why wouldn’t you help them with their troubles?”
“Brother, you may be able to shapeshift, but I can’t.”
“Don’t you also know 36 transformations?”
San Zang now chimed in, “Bajie, your brother is right. You should do this. As the saying goes, ‘Saving one life is worth more than building a seven-tier pagoda.’ You would be thanking our hosts and building your karma. It should be ok. You and your brother should be back in no time.”
“Oh master, listen to you,” Bajie grumbled. “I can only turn into mountains, trees, rocks, elephants, water buffaloes, or fat guys. It would be hard to turn into a little girl.”
But Wukong told Chen Cheng, “Don’t listen to him. Bring out your daughter and let’s have a look.”
So Chen Cheng brought his daughter into the parlor. His whole family also came out to kowtow to the pilgrims and beg them to save their child. The girl wore a kingfisher-blue circlet adorned with the Eight Treasures and dangling pearls. She had on a red-and-yellow shimmering silk jacket, a green satin cape, and a checkerboard collar. Around her waist she tied a bright crimson flowered silk skirt. On her feet were a pair of light-red silk shoes. On her legs she wore two gold-embroidered knee guards.
“Bajie, that’s the girl,” Wukong said. “Hurry up and turn into her so we can go to the sacrifice.”
“Brother, how can I turn into someone this dainty?”
“Hurry up and do it!” Wukong barked. “Don’t earn yourself a beating!”
“Ok ok. Don’t beat me. Let me try to turn into her.”
So dum-dum muttered an incantation, shook his head a few times, and shouted, “Change!” Well, his face did change into the girl’s likeness, but the rest of him was still that of a fat man. Wukong chuckled, “Try again.”
“Even if you beat me, I can’t do any better. What can be done about it?”
“But you have the head of a girl and the body of a monk. That wouldn’t do,” Wukong said as he blew a breath toward Bajie. And in that instant, Bajie’s body shrank to match the girl’s.
This done, Wukong told the two old men, “Take your son and daughter back inside so you don’t get us mixed up. Otherwise, my brother might try to get out of this by sneaking into the back and making it hard to tell him apart from your daughter. Give your kids some fruits and tell them not to cry. Otherwise, that demon king might catch on. Let the two of us go face him.”
He also instructed Sha Zeng to protect San Zang, and then he asked, “How are we to be presented? Tied up? Steamed? Diced?”
Bajie panicked, “Brother, don’t toy with me! I don’t have those kinds of powers.”
The old men said, “Oh we would never dare. We would just use two red platters and have you sit on them. We would put you on a table, and have a couple young men carry the table to the temple.”
“Great! Bring out the platters and let us try them out,” Wukong said.
So the old men brought out the platters. Wukong and Bajie sat down in them. Each platter was then put on a table, and four young men lifted up the table, walked into the courtyard and then back into the parlor and put the tables back down.
“Hey Bajie, look! We’re monks fit to sit on a high platform,” Wukong joked.
“Yeah, but once they carry us there, will we get to be carried back?” Bajie fretted. “I’m not worried about being carried to and fro. But if we get carried to the temple and get devoured, that’s no laughing matter.”
“Just watch me,” Wukong said. “If that demon eats me, then you just run away.”
“Yeah but how would you know which one he would eat first? If he eats the boy first, then I can run. But what if he decides to start with the girl?”
The old men told him, “In past years’ sacrifices, some among us who were bold enough hid around the temple and saw that he always ate the boy first, and then the girl.”
“Oh that’s great!” Bajie said with relief.
Just then, they heard the sound of gongs and drums outside as a crowd approached with lanterns and torches. The other villagers had gathered and were knocking on the door, shouting, “Bring out the sacrificial boy and girl!”
The two old men put on a good show by weeping and wailing while the four young men carried out the two children. The villagers escorted the kids, along with sacrificial pigs and sheep, to the demon king’s temple. There, they set the boy and girl on the altar. Wukong turned and saw that the altar held incense and candles, and a golden placard in the center said, “The Spirit of the Great King of Numinous Power.” There were no idols of any kind.
The villagers now lined up, kneeled, and chanted, “Oh Great King. Today the sacrificial leader of Chen Family Village, Chen Cheng and others, in accordance with the annual custom, hereby offer up a boy named Chen Guanbao (1,3) and a girl named Pound of Gold, along with numerous pigs and sheep, for your enjoyment. Please bless us with good weather and a bountiful harvest.”
After that prayer, the villagers burned some sacrificial paper horses and left. Once they were gone, Bajie said to Wukong, “Let’s just go home.”
“What home are you talking about?” Wukong asked him.
“Let’s go back to the Chen family’s home and take a nap.”
“Dum-dum, stop your nonsense! Let’s just do this.”
“You’re the dum-dum! We were just kidding around with them. How can we actually allow ourselves to be sacrificed for them?!”
“Enough nonsense! If we’re going to help someone, we have to help them to the end. We have to wait until that demon king shows up and eats us. Otherwise, he would bring calamity on these people.”
Just then, a strong gale whipped up. “Oh crap, here comes the wind!” Bajie said.
“Quiet!” Wukong shushed him. “Just let me handle it.”
Moments later, a demon showed up at the temple door. His golden armor and golden helmet gleamed bright and new; a jeweled belt was wrapped around his waist like curling red clouds. His eyes shone like brilliant stars just risen at dusk, and his teeth were set in rows like the edges of a saw. Beneath his feet mist and rosy vapors drifted and swirled; around his body warm haze billowed softly. When he moved, gusts of icy wind swept forth in waves; where he stood, layers of deadly air gathered thickly. He looked like a curtain-raising guard who escorts an imperial carriage, or a mighty door god standing watch at a temple entrance.
This demon blocked the temple door and asked, “Whose family offers the sacrifice this year?!”
Wukong replied with a smile, “We are from the family of Chen Cheng and Chen Qing.”
That demon was taken aback. He thought to himself, “This boy dares to talk to me like nothing’s happening. Usually the sacrifices are scared out of their minds and don’t dare to utter a word. They are practically dead when I pick them up. But this boy talked back to me.”
So he didn’t dare to just grab the children and devour them just yet. He now asked for their names, and Wukong smiled and replied again, “I am Chen Guanbao. And the girl is Pound of Gold.”
“This sacrifice is an annual custom. You have been presented to me, and I’m going to eat you now,” the demon said, just making sure the kid knew what he was in for.
“We do not dare to resist,” Wukong said. “Please help yourself.”
This again put the demon on his heel. He now shouted, “Stop talking back. I usually eat the boy first. But this year, I’m going to eat the girl first.”
Oh crap. Bajie panicked and said, “Great King, you should do as you always do. Don’t break custom.”
But the demon ignored his plea and went straight for him. Bajie wasn’t about to sit around and let himself get eaten, so he jumped down, showed his true form, pulled out his rake, and took a swing at the demon. The demon leaped back and fled. As he did so, Bajie’s rake struck him in the back and made a clanging sound.
“I must have broken his armor!” Bajie exclaimed.
Wukong now turned back into himself and took a look. He saw two fish scales the size of a platter. The brothers now gave chase and leaped into the air. There, they saw the demon, who had not come armed since he figured he was coming for a feast, not a fight.
“Where are you monks from?!” the demon king barked. “How dare you come here to mess with my business and ruin my reputation?”
“Heh, you two-bit demon don’t know any better,” Wukong said. “We are disciples of the sage monk San Zang, sent by the Great Tang Kingdom in the East to go West to fetch scriptures. Last night, we were lodging at the Chen family’s home and heard that there’s a demon pretending to control the weather and demanding a boy and a girl as sacrifices each year. Out of compassion, we have come to capture you. Confess right now: You’ve been eating two kids a year. How many years have you been pretending to be the king of this place? How many children have you eaten? Return them all, and I’ll spare your life!”
That demon turned and fled. Bajie took another swing at him, but came up empty this time as the demon turned into a wild wind and ducked into the Heaven-Penetrating River below.
“Let’s not chase him right now,” Wukong said to Bajie. “He must be a creature that dwells in the river. Tomorrow we’ll figure out a way to capture him and help master get across.”
So the two returned to the temple, gathered up the sacrificial pigs and sheep, as well as the tables, and brought them all back to the Chen residence. San Zang, Sha Zeng, and their hosts were sitting around waiting for news when suddenly they saw all the sacrificial items descend from the sky and land in their courtyard. Wukong then filled them in on what happened. The two old men were delighted and ordered their attendants to prepare rooms for the pilgrims to spend the night.
As dawn drew near, Zhu Bajie started feeling a chill and woke up, calling out to Wukong, “Brother, it’s cold!”
“Dum-dum, men or religion fear not the heat or the cold. Why are you complaining?” Wukong shot back.
But San Zang also woke up and said, “It really is cold.”
So the pilgrims got up, got dressed, and opened the door to see what’s up. To their surprise, they were greeted with the sight of a winter wonderland. The sky was cloudy, the ground wsa white, and a heavy snow fell as if it was the depth of winter.
San Zang asked his hosts whether this was normal for this time of year. Chen Cheng told him that it wasn’t out of the ordinary for snow to fall in the eighth month of the year around here. Then, the attendants presented rice porridge for the pilgrims. After eating, the snow picked up even more, and the accumulation on the ground was now about two feet deep. This made San Zang worry about delays to his journey, and he started to weep.
“Sir, please don’t worry about the snow,” his host said. “We have enough food to feed you for the rest of your lives.”
“Old benefactor, you don’t understand,” San Zang explained. “When I was entrusted with this mission by my emperor, he personally saw me off. He offered me a cup of wine and asked when I would be back. I didn’t know how difficult the journey would be then, so I answered that I would return within three years. But it’s been seven or eight years since I left. I still haven’t seen the Buddha. I’m worried about being late, and also concerned about vicious demons. We were fortunate enough to make your acquaintance. Last night, my unworthy disciples repaid you in some small way. I was hoping we could borrow a boat and cross the river. But I didn’t expect this heavy snow. Now the road is covered, and I don’t know when we will complete our mission and return home.”
“Elder, don’t worry,” Chen Cheng consoled him. “There’s plenty of time. Just wait here for a few days. Once the sky lightens up and the ice melts, I will take care of transportation to get you across.”
Another attendant now came to invite them to breakfast. Soon after that, it was lunch time. This neverending buffet was making San Zang uneasy. He told his host, “Thank you for taking us in, but please don’t go out of your way.”
“Elder, you saved our family. Even if we threw feasts for days on end, it would not be enough to thank you,” Chen Cheng said.
Eventually, the snow stopped, and people were able to go outside again. Seeing San Zang so unhappy, Chen Cheng had his men clean up the garden, set up a firepit, and invited his guests to go visit the garden.
Bajie chuckled, “This old man is so silly. Spring is the time to enjoy the garden. What’s the point when it’s snowing and cold?”
“Dum-dum, what do you know?” Wukong scoffed. “A snowscape is peaceful. It’ll help master relax.”
“Exactly, exactly,” Chen Cheng agreed. He then escorted his guests to the garden. It was indeed a tranquil scene. Ice and frost hung from trees. Jade-green moss beneath the steps were covered with powdered snow. Emerald bamboo shot up like white jade. The ice and snow, coupled with the pretty decorations in the fish ponds, pavilions, and courtyards, made the place look like a scene from an old painting.
After touring the garden, they sat down in a snow cave for tea and chitchat with some neighbors. Chen Cheng asked the pilgrims if they drank wine. San Zang said, “I don’t, but my disciples can drink a few cups of weak wine.”
Chen Cheng immediately ordered his attendants to bring fruits and snacks and warm up some wine for his guests. So they sat around the stove and drank a few cups with the neighbors. It was now getting late in the day, so the pilgrims were invited back to the parlor for dinner. As they headed back, they heard people on the streets saying, “It’s so cold! The river is frozen!”
San Zang said to Wukong, “What should we do now that the river is frozen?”
Chen Cheng said, “I’m guessing it’s just the shallow waters near the bank that’s frozen.”
But a passer-by said, “No, the entire river is frozen like a mirror. Some people are walking across it.”
Walk across it, huh? Well that’s convenient. To see how this development will affect the pilgrims travel plans, 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)
- “Dark Toys” by SYBS (from YouTube audio library)