28. First Taste of Zen, Even the Bodhisattva Seeks a Son-in-law

Just as Sun Wukong was distracted, Tang Sanzang rode his horse closer. Seeing the sky grow dark and overcast, he asked, “Wukong, it is getting late. Where shall we rest tonight?”

“Master, I just flew a circle in the sky and saw that past the cliff ahead, there are several houses. The buildings look exquisitely decorated, very luxurious. Only…” Sun Wukong’s words trailed off at the end.

“What is it, brother?” Zhu Bajie, having walked a long way and feeling both hungry and tired, hurriedly pressed him.

Sun Wukong grinned and said, “Only, my brother, in such a desolate mountain wilderness, to find a manor like this—it’s likely a place where people vanish without a trace. I fear you might not be able to handle it.”

“Wukong, do not speak nonsense,” Tang Sanzang lightly rebuked him. He dismounted and walked to the cliff. In the distance, nestled in a cluster of pine trees, stood a manor house with whitewashed walls and brick courtyards, grand halls, and a splendid facade.

“Wukong, look there—a manor by the wall. Shall we go and seek shelter for the night?” Tang Sanzang, uncertain whether the place was truly as strange as Wukong warned, spoke without much confidence.

Wukong, with his fiery golden eyes, had already seen auspicious clouds and divine mist shrouding the manor’s roof, and knew it to be a place transformed by the Old Mother of Mount Li and the bodhisattvas Guanyin, Samantabhadra, and Manjushri.

He was hesitating whether to warn the others, but by then Tang Sanzang, urged on by Zhu Bajie, had already descended the cliff and reached the manor gate, awaiting someone from within to open the door.

“Well, if it is fate, we cannot avoid it, and if it is trouble, we cannot escape it. Let things take their course!” Sun Wukong leapt down the cliff as well, joining Tang Sanzang.

Bear Wufan had long put down his load, and Sha Monk led the horse alongside Zhu Bajie, who was eyeing the vermilion gate with curiosity. “This must be the home of a truly wealthy family,” Zhu Bajie said.

“Yes… rich beyond words! But I fear they may be rich but heartless, and seeing such a handsome lad as yourself, might want you for a son-in-law!” Sun Wukong teased Zhu Bajie.

“Ahem! Ahem!” Suddenly, a sharp cough rang out, followed by a series of footsteps from within. The door creaked open, and out stepped a woman, mature yet strikingly beautiful.

She shot Sun Wukong a fleeting glare, then coquettishly asked, “Who are you outside my gate, gathering in the night before a widow’s door? What is your purpose?”

Knowing her to be the Old Mother of Mount Li in disguise, Sun Wukong dared not reveal any secrets. He fell silent and retreated behind Tang Sanzang, as obedient as a nearly thousand-year-old child.

“Greetings, madam,” Tang Sanzang approached and said, “I am a humble monk from the Great Tang of the East, journeying westward by imperial decree to seek the scriptures. There are five of us, passing through your esteemed land. As night has fallen, we seek shelter for just one night.”

The beautiful woman, smiling and gracious, replied, “Welcome, venerable monk. The night is cold—please come in and warm yourselves.” With that, she opened the gate wide for them to enter.

Within, the manor boasted a south-facing grand hall with high curtains and screens. Hanging on the screen door was a scroll depicting ‘Longevity Mountain and Prosperous Sea.’ On each side, golden lacquered pillars were adorned with bright red spring couplets, which read: “Willows trail silk by the bridge at dusk; Snow dusts fragrant plum in the springtime court.”

In the center stood a polished black incense table upon which sat an ancient bronze censer. Six armchairs flanked the two ends, and four seasonal hanging screens were suspended above.

The beautiful woman led Tang Sanzang and his disciples into the hall, where they exchanged greetings before sitting for tea. From behind the screen emerged a young girl, her hair in twin buns, carrying a golden tray and a white jade cup, the fragrant tea steaming, exotic fruits wafting a delicate aroma.

The girl’s sleeves flowed elegantly, her arms slender as spring shoots; she bore the jade cup with grace, serving tea to each guest in turn, bowing respectfully before heading off to prepare a vegetarian meal.

“May I ask, madam, what is your surname, and where are we?” After tea, Tang Sanzang bowed and inquired.

The beautiful woman’s gaze lingered on him as she replied, “This is the land of the Western Ox Continent. My maiden name is Jia, and my husband’s family name is Mo. I was unfortunate in youth—my parents-in-law died early, leaving only my husband and me to tend the ancestral estate with diligence and thrift. Over the years, we have amassed ten thousand strings of cash and a thousand acres of fine land! Alas, fate denied us a son, and though I bore three daughters, disaster struck two years ago—my husband died and I have mourned three years, just now concluded. Yet, with no kin to inherit the estate, I, a widow with three daughters, am left alone. We wish to marry, but cannot bear to abandon our ancestral home. Just as you gentlemen arrived, I thought heaven had sent us destined companions! If you do not mind, would you marry into this house and join our family? What is your opinion, venerable monk?”

At these words, Tang Sanzang merely lowered his head, silently reciting the Heart Sutra, his eyes lowered, face impassive, saying nothing.

Sensing that perhaps her visitors did not understand the extent of her wealth, the beautiful woman began extolling her estate: thousands of acres of good land, countless orchards, over a thousand yellow oxen, herds of mules and horses, unnumbered pigs and sheep. Seeing that Tang Sanzang remained unmoved, she continued, reporting her age—forty-five—and her daughters’: the eldest, Zhenzhen, twenty; the second, Ai’ai, eighteen; the youngest, Lianlian, sixteen.

“Amitabha!” Tang Sanzang had never before been tempted with an offer to renounce his vows and marry into a family. Awkward and amazed, he sat in silence, neither speaking nor showing expression.

Zhu Bajie, having once enjoyed the pleasures of marrying into the Gao family, was already itching with anticipation at the prospect of such beauty and wealth; he shifted restlessly in his chair. Seeing Tang Sanzang refuse to answer, he could bear it no longer and tugged at his master, whispering, “Master, this lady is talking to you—how can you pretend not to hear? At least say something!”

“You wretched beast!” Tang Sanzang snapped, raising his head and scolding Zhu Bajie, “We are monks—if we are so easily swayed by wealth and beauty, what hope have we of attaining enlightenment?”

The beautiful woman, now piqued, retorted, “How pitiful! What good is there in becoming a monk?”

Tang Sanzang replied, “Madam, what good is there in keeping house?”

The beautiful woman then described to him the pleasures of living at home in comfort and luxury, but he only shook his head, declaring that beauty fades quickly and true cultivation is the path.

At this, the woman’s eyes flashed with anger. “Foolish monk! Even if you have taken vows and sworn never to return to lay life, surely your disciples cannot follow you in monasticism forever!”

But as the saying goes, ‘He who takes another’s food is obliged to him.’ Seeing the woman’s anger, Tang Sanzang quietly recited a Buddhist verse and called out, “Wukong, will you stay here, then?”

Wukong waved his hands at once, replying urgently, “Good madam, I appreciate your kindness, but my heart is long set on the Buddha’s path, and I have no longing for worldly desire! Perhaps Bajie would be interested?”

Zhu Bajie protested, “Monkey, don’t try to push this onto me—I never had such intentions!”

“Oh? Didn’t you say you were skilled in the arts of love? Staying here would suit you perfectly—surrounded by women, living in delight.”

“Nonsense, Monkey! Don’t slander me! This isn’t child’s play—it requires careful consideration!” Zhu Bajie grumbled, sounding greatly wronged.

“If neither of you will stay, then perhaps Wujing should remain.” Tang Sanzang turned to the silent Sha Monk.

Sha Monk hastily replied, “Master, I was converted by the Bodhisattva and received the precepts—I have waited day and night for your guidance. Only recently have you accepted me as a disciple, and I have gained no merit yet—how could I covet such wealth? I would sooner die than abandon you or act against my conscience!”

“Then… Wude, unless you—” Tang Sanzang had not finished when Bear Wufan fell to his knees with a thud, weeping, “Master, I swear to follow you to the West for the scriptures, unto death, with never a thought of betrayal!”

“Hmph, you do not know what is good for you!” The beautiful woman, seeing none of them would accept her offer, was filled with rage. She turned and vanished behind the screen, her maids withdrawing as well, leaving the travelers alone. Even tea and food were no longer replenished, and the hall fell into an eerie and uncanny silence…