Pilgrim picked up his stride and walked over to a terrace, which turned out to be the Terrace of the Drinking Rainbow, but his master was nowhere to be seen. [K. Entering the main artery of the plot line.] This made him even more anxious. But suddenly, when he turned he saw a stretch of green water in front of him. In the middle was a water palace where two men wearing square scholars’ hats were sitting. Pilgrim felt a little dubious about this, and he made haste to leap over to a hill close to the terrace. There he hid himself in a hollow to observe them carefully. On the palace were four characters in a florid green script:¹ “Ospreys Cry Water Palace.”²

Indeed, on the walls were paintings like brocade; rugs with elaborate patterns covered the floors. The pillars seemed made of laurels and cassias; the beams, of plum; the railings, of orchids.³ The palace garden was surrounded by irregular coral banisters, on which, since they had been there for a long time, green and blue water grasses had joined to form seal-type characters in the shapes of insects. Of the two figures in the palace, one was wearing a Taihua⁴ hat decorated with nine flowers, and one was wearing a Dongting hat in the current fashion. The one wearing the hat of nine flowers had a pale complexion and red lips, with clear-cut eyebrows and white teeth: he seemed very much like the Tang Monk. [C. Now he sees that the Tang Monk is not his real master; he is speechless. Reader, think about this.] Only the hat was different.

Pilgrim was both surprised and delighted, thinking to himself, “The one wearing the nine-flower hat clearly is the Master, but why is he wearing a hat?” He took a look at the King of the Lesser Moon: he did not have the appearance of a monster. Suspicion on top of suspicion, his mind was in a knot. He was about to reveal himself and drag his master away [K. Another pause and digression.], but it dawned on him that if his master’s mind had been perverted, even if they reached the West nothing good would come of it. He remained hidden in the hollow, fixing his gaze on them, determined to see whether his master was still upright or had been corrupted. [K. This sentence has the key point here.]

Below, he could see the one with the Dongting hat saying to the Tang Monk, “The evening clouds are splendid. Master Chen, let’s take a stroll.”

The Tang Monk with the nine-flower hat said, “King of the Lesser Moon, after you.” Hand in hand, the two made their way to a certain Pavilion of Dripping Desire.⁵ A number of scrolls were hanging there, all paintings and calligraphic works by well-known artists. By their side was a sheet of writing paper of smaller size on which several characters had been inscribed in green:

Green hills embrace me,

A white rivulet flows through my heart.

Where is my beloved, the jade-like one?

A single white cloud in the empty sky.⁶

The two of them strolled along for a while, when they heard a voice coming from the bamboo grove, only sporadically audible. The Tang Monk with the hat leaned on the slanting railing to listen. At that time, a breeze wafting through the pines carried these words. [K. The melancholy atmosphere in chapters 12, 13, and 14 derives from the words “Sorrows Peak” in chapter 11.]

The crescent moon is shining, shining on how many lands?

How many homes are happy there, how many homes are sad?

How many people lie abed, behind jade- and gold-hooked curtains?

How many are on the Xiao-Xiang in boats on rainy nights?⁷

Middle of the night, and the lady pounds her quilt:

Why would you, my love, alas,⁸ leave without delay?

If by midnight tomorrow night you fail to reappear,

I will cut to pieces this gauze quilt, with lovebirds embroidered.

—From the Zirantang edition⁹

Having heard this, the Tang Monk lowered his head, tears falling from his eyes. [K. In the episode about the “Elegy for the Wrongly Killed,” Pilgrim is infected by the root of desire (qing). Having seen through the root of desire, he then enters a world of desolation and forlornness. When he sees through that, he will be able to truly leap free (from desire).]

The King of the Lesser Moon said, “Master Chen, this must be because you’ve been away from home for too long. [K. There is a key point in this sentence. It is a counterpart to “You’ve been in the Unreal World for too long” at the end of the last chapter.] When you hear voices like this, you are overwhelmed by sadness. [C. An atmosphere of melancholy and sentimental attachment is embodied in these words. In the end, if a man does not destroy the root of desire and emotion, he will be immersed in sadness and melancholy.] Let’s go over to the Hall That Reaches the Azure Sky and listen to a tanci ballad.”¹⁰ [K. Listening to a narrative ballad forms a perfect parallel to listening to the “plain tale” of Xiang Yu.]

The two of them chatted for a while, then descended from the Pavilion of Dripping Desire and all of a sudden were no longer in sight. Do you know why they disappeared? This is because there were a thousand rooms between the Hall That Reaches the Azure Sky and the Ospreys Cry Water Palace. Visible in that direction were blooming flowers surrounding the building, verdure divided by pathways, ten thousand drooping willows, and paulownias a hundred feet tall.¹¹ How could Pilgrim see them from his hollow on the facing hillside as they meandered through?

After waiting a good two hours, the Tang Monk and the King of the Lesser Moon suddenly appeared on a high tower, with the Tang Monk still wearing the nine-flowered hat and the King of the Lesser Moon, the Dongting hat. They seated themselves in chairs facing each other. [K. The description is trancelike.] In front of them was a teapot decorated with thin emerald-green lines and two Han-style square cups. [K. Again foreshadowing the tea drinking in the next chapter.] Three blind women were sitting on low stools: one was called Flower beyond the Wall; one, Loving Embrace; one, Graceful from Behind. Although they were blind, they were attractive beyond compare, each holding a pipa to her delicate jade-white breasts.

Then the King of the Lesser Moon said, “Flower beyond the Wall, how many stories can you sing?”

“My Lord,” she replied, “the problem is that stories about the past are too many; about the future, too few. I know many stories. Which ones we sing will depend on Mr. Chen.”

“Mr. Chen is an old acquaintance,” said the King. “You decide.”

“No need to tell old stories; let us only tell new ones,” Flower beyond the Wall said. “They are Words of Warmth in the Jade Hall,¹² Lamentations of One Maimed by Fate,¹³ and Tales of the Journey to the West.”

The King said, “Tales of the Journey to the West is new, that’s the one, that’s the one.” [C. A discourse on a dream within a dream. Pilgrim has not woken up yet.] The young women consented and began to pluck the pipa, singing in a loud voice.¹⁴

As a poem says,

Don’t drink when music and songs fill painted halls;

Only in my late years I see life as dreamy yearning.

These days, I have an agreement with my heart:

Quietly I sit in my retreat, a stick of incense burning.¹⁵ [K. Distant and subtle, forlorn and despondent, it can move one to the depths of one’s soul.]

After another twenty-seven notes in the pensive and melancholy mode on the pipa, Flower beyond the Wall continued to sing, her voice rising and falling, as if it came from a distance: [K. The music of this ballad is sad, like miserable wind and bitter rain.]

On what day did the Heavenly Sovereign¹⁶ set in motion the stars and the Dipper,

And the Nine Stars and Five Soils complete Heaven and Earth?¹⁷

The shooting of suns¹⁸ and the searching for clouds¹⁹ are traces of bygone ages,

The fish-scale clouds and pearl-like rain appeared in every form.²⁰

In times of Wuhuai, the white bamboo recorded rare integrity,²¹

In the era of Getian,²² fragrance congealed on all auspicious leaves.

Dragon-Horse and the Snake-Bodied One transmitted images on the green tablet,²³

The crow, the hare, in flower-like scripts were drawn on jade and ice.²⁴

But words carved on mountains or stones are not our concern for now,

The old man by the road and the investiture of Mount Song are tales for another time.²⁵

Jade Mount sank in the Western Sea, and the brocade-like flower arose,²⁶

In the Bejeweled Court, upright ministers received their high rewards.²⁷

Xu You declined the dragon-embroidered robes of the Son of Heaven,

Bequeathing instead the mountains and rivers to worthy Lord Yu Shun.²⁸

After fourteen years, the bells and stone chimes had to change their mode,

The Elder of Dongting Lake assumed the leadership of the people.²⁹

At Mulberry Forest, Cheng Tang prayed to Heaven for relief,³⁰

On the Deer Terrace, tears fell profuse upon the pearl-sewn sleeves.³¹

Flags in rain and battle axes in wind inaugurated a purer time,

At Gouchen, King Wu’s fortifications still remain.³²

For Spring and Autumn, one should mourn for the stones of Wu’s king,³³

For Warring States, she who ground her hairpin should be long lamented.³⁴

Yan’s great warriors all wore robes and caps of white,

The crown prince’s brave heart was as red as the sun in the sky.

Then note after note that were played on the lute changed to a different mode,

At the Yi River the floating clouds: clouds ten thousand layers thick.³⁵

With the failure of the plot against Qin, all six kingdoms fell,

Adopting now the title emperor, he had it inscribed in stone.³⁶

Who could have known that there would be but three emperors of Qin?

The candles made of man-fish oil extinguished, the Eastern Sea was darkened.³⁷

The poems to the Fair One and his steed were all so poignant,

No sooner had he uprooted the mountain than he bewailed the autumn wind.³⁸

With ulterior motive the four Graybeards sought refuge in empty mountains,³⁹

Zhang Liang became a student of Red Pine, with nothing on his mind.⁴⁰

The aura of the True Man soared many thousand feet,⁴¹

Five sacred mountains all in unison voiced but one “Long Life.”⁴²

Grass becomes yellow and leaves will fall, precisely as predestined,

Dong Zhuo’s and Cao Cao’s blades struck at the House of Liu.⁴³

Nicely powdered emperors replaced each other through six dynasties,⁴⁴

Colored frost and jade-like dew were woven into ice-like textures.⁴⁵

With Nine and Six, fortune ends, and the Son of Heaven died,⁴⁶

This brought forth the brilliant emperor, Taizong of the Tang.

Matters hidden in the imperial family were hard for the people to grasp,

Don’t follow the model of the poet to chant satires about the wagtails.⁴⁷

It was all because of the earlier days when beacon fires raised the alarm,

That in the Third Month, peach blossoms illuminated noble steeds.

Ahead of the horse, the full moon projects the shadow of the fully drawn bow,

And linked stars in the sky made bright arches on their swords.⁴⁸

The “devil soldiers” cared little if it were jade or stone that perished,

The Army of Dragons took no pity on the suffering souls of the Xiang.⁴⁹

A night of sand-filled wind buried the blameless ghosts,

In the mountain valley, every year more traces of tears appear.⁵⁰ [K. This is a general prologue to the World of the Ancients, not vague and empty talk. What is said in chapter 2, “There were many Sons of Heaven in past generations,” foreshadows this.]

The cries they made all laid the blame on the Tang Son of Heaven—

Who cares whether the plum trees bloomed anew in the Imperial Garden!⁵¹

The story tells that the Tang Son of Heaven had just ended his audience at the court and was drinking and enjoying the viewing of flowers when he suddenly fell asleep. He dreamed of a Dragon King, who called out, “Son of Heaven, have mercy on me; save my life!”⁵²

She plucked another pipa tune, “Lamenting under the Moon,” and resumed her narrative:

In the Palace the Son of Heaven was moved to deep compassion,

He issued forth the gold tablet, commanding all his ministers.

He urgently sent for the Heavenly Envoy who was to kill the dragon,

In the game of generals white and black, each had different intentions.⁵³

The solemn oath the ruler took was broken that very day,⁵⁴

The butterfly flew up, beheading that old dragon.⁵⁵

How could the Dragon King get along without a head?⁵⁶

At the palace gate, in the light of the moon, he created a scene of havoc.

For morning court, the Emperor was too tired to ride in his dragon carriage,

The Sagely Ruler from within the palace consulted his court physicians.

The Dragon King’s ghost returned five days running, the Heavenly King died,

In the chilly, chilly Underworld, he faced people from his past.⁵⁷

An infernal official resorted to fraud, increasing his allotted years,⁵⁸

The bells of his carriage rang again, and the Palace was bright anew.

The Tang Emperor, experienced now both in life and in death,

Gazed once more at his mountains and rivers—just like in days past.

“How sad, how sad,” the Heavenly King lamented again and again:

Man’s life in this mortal world is no more than a floating insect’s.

When can salvation be offered to all poor souls in the Underworld below?

Then he enlisted Xuanzang the holy monk, whose family name was Chen.⁵⁹

Gold bells and jade chimes called to ghosts of all those lost and drowned,

With ink-black sleeves and somber flags he prayed for their rebirth.

The Bodhisattva became manifest there in order to preach the Dharma,

And earnestly urged the holy monk to make the journey westward.⁶⁰

The Monk spurred his horse, but even before the Middle Kingdom’s border,

He bemoaned his fate in the tiger’s lair—this was how Heaven tempered him.⁶¹

Once atop the Double-Fork Ridge, he revoked the Sanskrit spell,

At the foot of the Mountain of Five Phases he took on his first disciple.⁶²

In a stony ravine, a yellow dragon gobbled up his Purple Deer;⁶³

At the Incense Forest, the white wall became a conflagration.⁶⁴

The wind blown into his fiery pupils, the way to the West became blurry;

But when Bodhisattva Lingji flew in, all calamities vanished.⁶⁵

In divination, Wise Monkey received the top line of hexagram Kui,

Pig, although covered all in dirt, paid his respects to the elderly monk.⁶⁶

At sunset, the monster in Flowing Sand River gave a mighty roar,

All Impure Perceptions are cleansed in the comprehension of the Pure.⁶⁷

The Boarfish was simply just a pond creature after all:

Slowly he replaced the call to prayer with the zither’s music of love.⁶⁸

Having uprooted the ginseng tree, the Monkey in sorrow wailed;⁶⁹

Madam Cadaver established herself in the midst of a dense forest.⁷⁰

After the Metal Lord made his departure, the Monk became a tiger,

Precisely like a second version of the ancient Niu Ai.⁷¹

In the Lotus-Flower Cave, the Monk hung suspended a long night through,⁷²

At the foot of White Deer Mountain, Pilgrim bowed to the Longevity Star.⁷³

The Tang Monk rolled up and down, blown around in the wild wind,⁷⁴

The Imperial Brother sank deep down in Black Water River.⁷⁵

Buddhist monks and Daoist priests should not compete in valor,

Their blood shed, whether black or yellow,⁷⁶ would all alike be void.⁷⁷

Metal to metal, neither overcame, but mind and spirit obstructed,⁷⁸

When water confronted water as well, the elder fell the victim.⁷⁹

Two minds fighting with each other darkened Heaven and Earth;

A pair of Monkey Sages deceived even Bodhisattva Guanyin.⁸⁰

The Palm-Leaf Fan having extinguished the flames of the mountain fire,

Pilgrim led the horse along between green poplar trees.⁸¹ [C. Half of the Journey to the West is served up as if on one plate: the author is truly one who could mend the sky with smelted rocks.]⁸²

In the Gallery of a Million Mirrors, he tarried days and nights,

Never knowing on what day he could see the World-Honored One. [K. An enlightening blow on the head!⁸³ This echoes how in the first chapter the Tang Monk says, “Who knows when we will be able to come into the presence of the Tathāgatha?”]

Flower beyond the Wall had no sooner finished the song than with downcast eyes she put aside the pipa and heaved a long sigh, the sound of which floated off into the distance. [K. Wonderful.]

The story continues: Pilgrim, who from the hollow on the hillside having just now heard the words “Gallery of a Million Mirrors,” was deeply perplexed. “It was only yesterday that something happened to me in the Gallery of a Million Mirrors,” he thought to himself. “How could she know about that?” The flames of delusion burst forth, and he was consumed by anger. Single-mindedly, all he wanted to do was to kill the King of the Lesser Moon in order to get to the bottom of it all.

If you want to know how this turned out, pray read the explanation in the next chapter.⁸⁴

[C. Xiang Yu’s telling of the plain tale is a plain tale within a plain tale. This is a tanci ballad within a plain tale.]⁸⁵