Chapter 21: Passing by the Pagoda – General Yuan Presents the Mysterious Technique

Now, let us speak of Tang Sanzang and his three disciples, who journeyed westward for over a month. After passing through the borders of Usang, they were met with a lofty mountain barring their path.

Tang Sanzang reined in his White Dragon horse and gazed anxiously at the mountain ahead. He asked, “Wukong, Bajie, the road ahead is perilous, with steep heights and treacherous waters. We must be cautious as we pass.”

Pigsy grinned and replied, “Master, you need not worry. This mountain is called Futu Mountain. Within it resides the Black Nest Hermit, who has cultivated here for many years. I, your old Pig, have even visited him before.”

Tang Sanzang inquired, “Is this Black Nest Hermit also a reclusive sage?”

Pigsy answered, “He possesses some spiritual prowess. In the past, he tried to persuade me to follow him in cultivation, but I did not agree.”

Hu Rong, hearing this, raised his head and studied Futu Mountain. He saw that the mountain was lush with green and adorned with peach blossoms, birds and cranes flitted about, wildflowers and grasses flourished, and beneath the ravines flowed verdant waters, while clouds clustered before the cliffs.

The four travelers observed from the mountain’s foot. Midway up the slope stood a towering fragrant cypress, and atop it rested a nest made from twigs and straw. To its left, a deer carried flowers in its mouth; to its right, mountain monkeys presented fruit. Azure phoenixes and rainbow-plumed birds sang in chorus at the treetop, while cranes and golden pheasants gathered together.

Pigsy’s face lit up with joy. Pointing to the hermit within the nest, he said, “Master, there is the Black Nest Hermit.”

Tang Sanzang spurred his horse toward the fragrant cypress, with Hu Rong, Pigsy, and Wu Fan following close behind. The Black Nest Hermit, seeing them approach, departed from his nest and descended from the tree.

Tang Sanzang dismounted and recited the Buddha’s name, bowing low, but the Hermit lifted him with his hand and said, “Holy Monk, please rise. We have both listened to the teachings in the Pure Land; how could I accept your obeisance?”

Tang Sanzang was puzzled by these words and wished to ask for clarification, but the Hermit fell silent and turned his gaze upon Pigsy.

“Venerable Hermit, your disciple Pigsy pays his respects,” Pigsy said, knowing well the Hermit’s hidden greatness, and offered a disciple’s bow.

The Hermit regarded him with surprise and asked, “Are you Zhu Ganglie of Fuling Mountain? How remarkable that you have the fortune to accompany the Holy Monk!”

Pigsy replied with a smile, “A few years ago, I was guided by Bodhisattva Guanyin to dispel my confusion, and now I follow my master to the West in search of the Buddha’s scriptures.”

The Hermit was delighted, repeating, “Good, good, good!” He then turned to Hu Rong and Wu Fan, both puzzled and amazed, and asked, “Who are these two?”

“I am Sun Wukong, and he is my junior brother, Xiong Wufan,” Hu Rong replied, sizing up the Hermit and pondering his mysterious origins.

The Hermit uttered a brief “Oh,” seemingly unaware of Sun Wukong and Xiong Wufan’s renown, but his expression grew even more peculiar as he looked from Hu Rong to Wu Fan. After a long pause, he sighed, “As expected, Commander Yuan’s words were true.”

“Commander Yuan?” Hu Rong grew alert upon hearing this name and quickly asked, “Who is this exalted person?”

“The Buddha says: It cannot be spoken,” replied the Hermit, shaking his head. From his robe he produced a jade pendant, handing it to Hu Rong. “That person entrusted me to bestow upon you a blessing; use it wisely.”

With that, the Hermit turned away from Hu Rong and exchanged a few words with Tang Sanzang. He then imparted the “Heart of Many Sutras,” a compendium of cultivation and the gateway to enlightenment.

“If that is so, I shall take my leave!” The Hermit handed over the scripture, stepped onto a cloud, and prepared to return to his nest, but Tang Sanzang caught him and inquired about the journey westward.

“The road is not hard,” the Hermit said. “Hear my instructions: Thousands of mountains and rivers deep, where mists and demons lurk. If you encounter the Heaven-reaching Cliff, rest assured, do not fear. When traveling past Ear-rubbing Rock, walk with care.

Beware the Black Pine Forest, where fox spirits block the way. Spirits fill the capital, demon lords dwell in the mountains. Tigers occupy the music halls, grey wolves serve as clerks. Lions and elephants claim kingship, tigers and leopards act as guards.

Wild boars carry burdens, water monsters lie ahead. Many old stone monkeys have gained fortune beyond the world. If you ask those you meet, they know the road west.”

With these words sung, the Hermit departed.

“Wukong, what does the Hermit mean?” Tang Sanzang asked, not realizing the Hermit’s words alluded to the trials they would face on their journey.

“Master, these sages love to speak in riddles. The Hermit was simply saying that as we travel to the West, we’ll encounter wolves, insects, tigers, leopards, snakes, ants, lions, and other monsters!”

As Hu Rong spoke, he examined the jade pendant in his hand, and his spiritual sense swept over it. He found it to be a secret art, somewhat akin to his own seventy-two transformations.

“Amitabha!” Tang Sanzang proclaimed the Buddha’s name, bid farewell to the Hermit, mounted his horse, and climbed over Futu Mountain, heading further west.

Time passed, and as dusk fell, the four travelers found themselves famished. Along the mountain road, they spotted a small village.

Tang Sanzang was overjoyed. “Wukong, there is a household by the roadside. Let us seek lodging for the night and continue tomorrow.”

Pigsy echoed, “Master is right. I, your old Pig, am also hungry. Let’s ask for some vegetarian fare while we’re at it.”

Wu Fan nodded. He had carried his burdens all the way west and felt hunger gnawing at him, so Pigsy’s suggestion resonated with him.

“Very well, let’s seek lodging for the night and request some vegetarian food. But, Bajie, Wu Fan, you two mustn’t do anything untoward to frighten the villagers!” Hu Rong cautioned, glancing around.

“Monkey Brother, you say such things. This old Pig’s appearance is gifted by heaven. How can I hide it?”

“Besides, I look better now than I did at Gao Village. If the household is frightened, there’s nothing I can do!” Pigsy rubbed his nose in protest.

“Simpleton, when meeting people, let Master go first, then introduce us disciples. That way, things will proceed naturally,” Hu Rong advised, patting Wu Fan and instructing him to set down their luggage by the roadside. Then, supporting Tang Sanzang, he led him to the door and knocked.

“Elder!” Tang Sanzang looked inside and saw an old man, then spoke, “This humble monk is from the Great Tang of the East, on imperial orders to journey to Thunder Monastery in the West to worship the Buddha and seek scriptures. Passing through here as night falls, I hope to lodge here for the night.”

The old man hurriedly waved his hand. “You must not go! The journey west is fraught with hardship. If you wish to obtain the scriptures, you should head east instead!”

“Elder, the Bodhisattva has already pointed out the way; the scriptures are at Thunder Monastery in the West. Why do you advise us to go east?” Tang Sanzang asked in confusion.

The old man chuckled bitterly and replied, “Holy Monk, you do not know! Thirty li west of here lies a mountain called Yellow Wind Ridge, eight hundred li wide. That mountain is infested with monsters, and the Yellow-browed King sits in command. Ordinary folk dare not pass!”

“Heh, the Yellow-browed brat is nothing to fear! Feed old Monkey well, and when we pass Yellow Wind Ridge, I’ll rid you of those monsters!” Hu Rong boasted.

“This hairy-faced young monk talks big,” the old man replied, but still opened his door and instructed his family to prepare a pot of vegetarian food.

Turning around, he caught sight of Pigsy and Wu Fan and nearly fainted, thinking monsters from Yellow Wind Ridge had invaded the village. Only Tang Sanzang’s repeated reassurances calmed him, and he invited them inside for a meal.

Pigsy’s appetite was indeed insatiable. Tang Sanzang, Hu Rong, and Wu Fan together ate only three bowls, but Pigsy alone devoured three more, urging the old man to serve additional rice until he had polished off the entire pot and was only half full.

Wu Fan prepared their bedding in the hall, attended Tang Sanzang as he slept, then squeezed onto the large communal bed with Hu Rong and Pigsy and drifted into sleep.

At dawn the next day, Pigsy led the horse, Wu Fan packed their burdens, and after Tang Sanzang finished breakfast, they bid farewell to the old man and his family and set off westward.

Before leaving, Hu Rong tossed a silver ingot inside the door, weighing about fifty taels, to compensate for his junior brother’s consumption of the family’s provisions, and then strode toward Yellow Wind Ridge.

This stretch was not as smooth as before: steep mountains flanked the path, wild grass grew taller than a man, and the roars of wild beasts echoed frequently, startling and frightening them at every turn.