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“I'm young,” said Monkey, “and I'm a stranger from far away. I didn't know that. Could I trouble you two elders to do a fellow-believer a favour? Tell me more about what this place is called and how the king shows his love for the Way and its worthies.”
“This country is called Tarrycart,” the Taoist priest replied, “and His Majesty is close to us.”
When Monkey heard this he said with a chuckle, “Can it be that a Taoist priest is monarch?”
“No,” he replied. “For twenty years there was a drought here, and not a drop of rain fell. Nothing could grow. Everyone-king, ministers, commoners, the high and the humble-all bathed, burnt incense and prayed to Heaven for rain. When they were in really desperate straits three immortals were sent from Heaven to save all living beings.”
“Which three?” Monkey asked.
“Our masters,” the Taoist priest replied.
“May I ask their titles?” Monkey asked. “Our senior master is the Great Immortal Tiger Power,” the Taoist replied, “our second master is the Great Immortal Deer Power, and the third master is the Great Immortal Antelope Power.”
“What sort of magic can your three masters perform?” Monkey asked.
“They can summon up wind and rain with a flick of the hand,” the Taoist said, “and change water into oil or stone into gold as easily as turning around. Their magic arts enable them to control the creation of heaven and earth, or to alter the positions of the stars. Our king and his ministers treat them with great respect and they are now relations of ours.”
“Your king is very fortunate,” said Monkey. “As the saying goes, magic moves ruler and minister alike. If your masters have those powers and the king treats them as his relations they must have been very good to him. Oh dear! I don't suppose that a poor Taoist like myself is fated to meet your venerable masters.”
“No, problem about meeting them,” said the Taoist. “We two are his favorite disciples. Besides, our masters are such lovers of the Way and its followers that they only need to hear the word 'Way' to come right outside to welcome a visitor. For us to take you in there would be as easy as blowing away ashes.”
Monkey chanted a deep and respectful “re-e-er” and then said, “I would be very grateful for an introduction. Let's go in.”
“Wait a moment,” said the Taoist. “You sit here while we finish the jobs we have to do, then we'll go in together.”
“Priests ought to be completely free and unconstrained,” said Monkey. “What jobs do you have to do?”
The Taoist pointed toward the Buddhist monks on the sandbank and said, “They're working for us, and we have to call the roll to make sure they don't start slacking.”
“You elders have got it wrong,” said Monkey with a smile. “We Buddhist and Taoist monks are all men of religion. They shouldn't be working for us and answering roll-calls.”
“You wouldn't know that when we were all praying for ram the year the Buddhists were on one side praying to Buddha while we were on the other side praying to the Great Bear. We both asked the court for grain, but the Buddhists turned out to be useless. They got no results by reciting their sutras and didn't help in the least. It was our masters who came along, called up wind and rain, and saved the people from their distress. The king was so angry with those useless Buddhists that he had their monasteries torn down and their Buddha-statues smashed. He revoked their ordination licenses and refused to let them go home. Instead he gave them to us to work for us as slaves. They do all our cooking and cleaning and they look after our gates. Because our residence out here hasn't been finished yet we've made the Buddhists drag the bricks, tiles and timber here to do the building for us. We two have been sent here to keep an eye on them and make sure they don't start slacking.”
When Monkey heard this he held on to them and said through his tears, “I said I wasn't fated to meet your masters and I was right.”
“Why won't you meet them?” the Taoist asked.
“I have come here on my wanderings for two reasons,” said Monkey. “One is to make a living, and the other is to find a relation.”
“What relation?” the Taoist asked.
“I have an uncle,” Monkey replied, “who left home to have his head shaved and become a Buddhist monk when he was very young. During a famine years ago he went away to beg. He hasn't been back since, and I'm looking for him out of a sense of duty to our forebears. I expect he's been detained here and can't escape, but there's no way of knowing. If I could just have a look for him and see him I'd be able to go into town with you after that.”
“No problem,” said the Taoist. “We'll sit here while you go down to the sand and check them over for us. Just make sure there are five hundred of them. See if your uncle is among them. If he is, we'll release him as you're a fellow Taoist. Then we can go into town together.”
Monkey was very grateful indeed. He bowed to them with his hands raised and headed straight for the sandbank, playing his bamboo drum. Once he was through the two sets of gates and had gone down the ridge the monks all knelt and kowtowed to him.
“Master,” one of the monks said, “we're not slacking. Every one of the five hundred of us is here and all pulling that cart.”
At this Monkey smiled to himself and thought with a grin he did not show, “Those Taoists have got them so scared that they're even frightened of an imitation Taoist like me. If I were a real Taoist they'd die of fright.”
Then Monkey said aloud with a wave of his hands, “Don't kneel, and don't be afraid. I'm not the supervisor. I'm here to look for a relation.” Once they heard him talk about looking for a relation, the monks all crowded round, craning forward, coughing and making other noises in their eagerness to be picked out.
“Who's his relation?” they all wondered. Monkey looked them all over for a while then started chuckling aloud.
“My lord,” the monk said, “if you can't find your relation among us, what is there to laugh about?”
“Do you know why I'm laughing?” Monkey asked. “It's because all you monks are failures. You were born under unlucky stars. Your parents were only prepared to let you become monks because you brought them bad luck or because you were destined to have no sisters. Why ever are you working for Taoists like slaves instead of honoring the Three Treasures, respecting the Buddha's Dharma, reading sutras and performing ceremonies of repentance?”
“You put us to shame, my lord,” the monk replied. “You must be a stranger here, sir, who doesn't understand the situation.”
“Indeed I am,” Monkey replied, “and indeed I don't.”
“Our king,” said the Buddhist monk in tears, “is prejudiced and unreasonable. He only likes the followers of Lao Zi, and he hates us Buddhists.”
“Why?” Monkey asked.
“Because three immortals came here to call up wind and rain,” the monk replied. “They ruined everything for us and won the king's confidence. He has destroyed our monasteries, revoked our ordination licenses, and refused to let us return to our homes. And the form of forced labor he imposed on us was to give us to the immortals to work for them. It's unbearably hard. When you come here, wandering Taoist, you will only have to call on the king to be richly rewarded. But any Buddhist monk who comes, whether from around here or from far away, is arrested and put to work for the immortals.”
“I suppose the Taoists must use some magic powers to worm their way into the king's confidence,” said Monkey. “Calling up winds and rain is small-time magic used by unorthodox sects, and hardly enough to win a king's heart.”
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