A poem says:
The mighty Tang emperor issued his decree,
Appointing Xuanzang as his envoy to seek the Chan teachings .
With a steadfast heart, he honed his resolve to find the dragon’s lair,
Devoting himself to cultivation, ascending the Vulture Peak.
He would journey across many kingdoms beyond the border,
Passing through countless cloud-shrouded mountains and ten thousand ridges.
From this day, he left his post and journeyed westward,
Upholding the Buddha’s teachings, seeking to comprehend the Great Emptiness .
Let us speak of Tripitaka . On the thirteenth day of the ninth month in the thirteenth year of the Zhenguan reign, after the Tang emperor and his officials had seen him off beyond the Chang’an city gates, he traveled without rest for a day or two and soon arrived at the Famen Temple . The abbot of this temple, the senior elder , led over five hundred monks in two rows to welcome him at the temple gates. They invited Tripitaka into the temple, offered him tea after their meeting, and after the tea, served a vegetarian meal . Once the meal was finished, night had fallen without their noticing. Truly:
Shadows stirred near the Milky Way , the moon so bright, not a speck of dust.
Wild geese called out over distant rivers; the sound of washing blocks echoed from the western neighbor.
Birds returned to roost in withered trees; Chan monks chanted in Sanskrit tones .
On a single meditation mat , he sat until the night was nearly spent.
Under the lamplight, the monks discussed the core principles of Buddhism and the reasons for Tripitaka’s journey to the Western Heaven to fetch the scriptures . Some spoke of the immense distance, blocked by mountains and rivers; others warned of the many tigers and leopards along the way; some said the steep cliffs and treacherous ridges were impassable; others claimed that venomous demons and vicious monsters would be too difficult to overcome. Tripitaka did not say a single word. He simply pointed to his own heart and nodded several times. The monks did not understand his meaning. Pressing their palms together, they asked, “ Dharma Master , what do you mean by pointing to your heart and nodding?”
Tripitaka replied, “When the heart harbors distracting thoughts, all kinds of demonic obstacles arise. When the heart is free of distracting thoughts, all demonic obstacles naturally vanish. Earlier, at the Temple of Transforming Life , I made a great vow before the Buddha. I have no choice but to hold firmly to this resolve. On this journey, I must reach the Western Heaven, see the Buddha, and obtain the scriptures. I will spread the Dharma in the Eastern Lands and pray that His Majesty’s throne may endure forever.”
When the monks heard these words, every one of them praised him and spread his words, all shouting, “Truly a great Dharma master of loyal and courageous heart!” After their praise, they invited Tripitaka to rest in the meditation hall .
In the blink of an eye, it was dawn, when “ bamboo taps startled the waning moon away , and roosters crowed over the clouds of morning.” The monks rose, prepared tea and an early vegetarian meal. Tripitaka donned his cassock , went to the main hall , knelt before the Buddha, and prayed, “Your disciple, Chen Xuanzang, is journeying to the Western Heaven to fetch the scriptures. It is a pity that I have only mortal eyes and cannot recognize the true form of the living Buddha . Today I make this vow: wherever I encounter a temple on the road, I will burn incense; whenever I see a Buddha, I will pay homage; whenever I come across a pagoda , I will sweep it clean. May the Buddha, in his compassion, soon reveal his sixteen-foot golden body , grant me the true scriptures, and let them spread in the Eastern Lands.” After his prayer, he returned to the abbot’s quarters to eat the morning meal.
After the meal, the two attendants readied the saddled horses and urged Tripitaka to depart. Tripitaka walked out of the temple gate and bid farewell to the monks. The monks could not bear to part with him and escorted him for ten miles before returning with tears in their eyes. Tripitaka then set off directly westward. It was the height of late autumn. One could see: fallen leaves from countless village trees, drifting reeds scattered about; from several maple and willow trees, red leaves tumbled down. On the road, a misty rain veiled the scene, with no familiar travelers in sight. Yellow chrysanthemums bloomed brilliantly, the rocky crags looked thin and bare, the weather was cold, lotus leaves were withered, and the travelers appeared weary. White and red smartweed in the frosty sky looked like snow; a solitary wild goose in the evening glow flew toward the vast firmament. Dark wild clouds drifted faintly on the distant horizon; swallows had flown away, and wild geese arrived, their mournful cries filling the night everywhere.
The master and his two disciples traveled for several days until they reached Gongzhou City . The officials of Gongzhou had been waiting and welcomed them into the city to rest for the night. The next morning, they left the city and continued their journey. Along the way, they ate when hungry, drank when thirsty, stayed at inns at night, and set out at dawn. After another three days, they arrived at Hezhou Garrison —this was already the border of the Great Tang. The garrison commander guarding the border and the local monks and Daoists , having heard that the imperial envoy and royal brother, the Dharma Master, was on his way to see the Buddha in the West, treated him with great respect. They welcomed Tripitaka into the city and entertained him, and the monastic official invited him to rest at Fuyuan Temple . The monks of the temple came one by one to pay their respects and arranged the evening meal. After the meal, Tripitaka instructed his two attendants to feed the horses well and to set out before dawn.
When the roosters had just crowed, Tripitaka called for his attendants to rise. This commotion awakened the temple monks, who hastily prepared tea and a vegetarian meal. After eating, Tripitaka and his party left Hezhou Garrison and crossed out of the Great Tang’s border.
Tripitaka was anxious to press on and had set out too early. It was already late autumn, and the roosters crowed early; in truth, it was only the fourth watch . The three travelers and four horses, facing the frost and gazing at the moon, traveled several dozen miles until they encountered a mountain ridge. They had to push aside the weeds to find a path. The rugged mountain path was difficult enough, but they also feared losing their way. Just as they were hesitating, their feet suddenly slipped, and all three, along with their horses, tumbled into a pit.
Tripitaka was terrified, and his attendants’ legs turned to jelly. As they were just regaining their composure, they heard a roar from within the pit. Someone shouted, “Drag them up! Drag them up!” A fierce wind rolled in, and fifty or sixty demons rushed out, grabbing Tripitaka and his attendants. Trembling, Tripitaka stole a glance. The demon king seated above was extremely ferocious. Truly: His bearing was majestic, his frame imposing; his fierce aura filled the air, his appearance dignified. His eyes flashed like lightning, his voice rumbled like thunder, shaking the four directions. Serrated teeth protruded from his mouth, and sharp fangs jutted from his cheeks. His body was wrapped in brocade, his back covered in patterns. His beard was like steel needles covering his flesh, and his claws were like hooks, sharp as frost. Even the Yellow Duke of the Eastern Sea would fear him; this was the White-Browed Tiger King of the Southern Mountains.
Tripitaka was so frightened his soul seemed to flee; his two attendants were so terrified their bones turned soft and their muscles numbed. The demon king ordered them bound, and the demons immediately tied all three with ropes. Just as they were about to prepare to eat them, they suddenly heard a commotion outside. Someone reported, “Lords Bear Mountain Lord and Special Scholar have arrived!”
Tripitaka looked up and saw a burly black man walking in front. His appearance was like this: brave and bold, with a stout heart; his body was light and agile, full of strength. Crossing rivers, he relied on brute force; in the forests, he displayed his might. Always a symbol of good fortune, he now revealed his heroic bearing. He could snap green trees and understood the changes of cold and heat. Because of his spiritual nature and manifested power, he was called Bear Mountain Lord.
Following behind was a stout man. His appearance was like this: On his head, he wore a tall hat with two horns; his shoulders were broad, and his back was straight. He was always dressed in green clothes and walked with a somewhat slow and heavy step. His father’s clan was called “Gu,” and his mother’s clan was called “Zi.” He could help people plow the fields and earn merit, so he was called Special Scholar.
These two swayed and swaggered in as they walked. The demon king hurried out to greet them. Bear Mountain Lord said, “General Yin, you’ve been well lately, how delightful, how delightful!” Special Scholar said, “General Yin, your style is as impressive as ever. How wonderful!” The demon king asked, “How have you two been lately?” Bear Mountain Lord said, “The same as always, keeping to our lot and living our lives.” Special Scholar said, “Just passing the time according to the seasons.” After the three finished speaking, they each sat down to chat.
At this moment, the bound attendants began to cry out in pain. The black man asked, “Where did these three people come from?” The demon king said, “They delivered themselves to our door.” Special Scholar laughed and said, “Can they serve as a feast to accompany our wine?” The demon king said, “Of course! Of course!” Bear Mountain Lord said, “There’s no need to eat all of them. Eat two and leave one.”
The demon king agreed and immediately ordered his minions to rip open the bellies and dig out the hearts of the two attendants, then chop their corpses into pieces. The heads and hearts were presented to Bear Mountain Lord and Special Scholar; the demon king himself ate the limbs, and the remaining bones and flesh were distributed among the other demons. One could only hear the sound of gulping and swallowing, like a tiger devouring a lamb. In a short while, everything was consumed. Tripitaka was nearly scared to death—this was the first great calamity he had encountered since leaving Chang’an.
While he was still in a panic, the east gradually grew light. The two demons did not leave until dawn. As they departed, they said, “Thank you for your hospitality today. We will surely repay you well in the future.” With that, they swarmed away. Not long after, the sun had risen high. Tripitaka was dazed and confused, unable to tell east from west or south from north.
Just as he was on the verge of death, he suddenly saw an old man approaching, leaning on a staff. The old man stepped forward and brushed his hand over Tripitaka. All the ropes binding him snapped instantly. He then blew a breath of air on Tripitaka, and Tripitaka regained consciousness. He knelt on the ground and kowtowed, saying, “Thank you, venerable elder, for saving my life!”
The old man returned the greeting and said, “Get up. Have you lost anything?”
Tripitaka said, “My attendants have already been eaten by the demons. I do not know where the luggage and the horses are.”
The old man pointed with his staff and said, “Are those not your horse and your two bundles over there?”
Tripitaka turned his head and looked. Indeed, they were his belongings, not a single item missing. His heart was slightly relieved. He then asked, “Venerable elder, what place is this? How is it that you are here?”
The old man said, “This place is Forked Ridge, a lair of tigers and wolves. How did you come to fall in here?”
Tripitaka said, “I set out from Hezhou Garrison at the fourth watch. I did not expect to start out so early. Braving the frost and dew, I hurried along the road and carelessly fell into this pit. I encountered a demon king of extreme ferocity, who bound me and my two attendants. Later, a black man named Bear Mountain Lord and a stout man named Special Scholar arrived. They called the demon king General Yin. These three demons devoured my two attendants and only left at dawn. I never imagined I would be so blessed as to encounter you, venerable elder, to rescue me!”
The old man said, “Special Scholar is a wild buffalo spirit, Bear Mountain Lord is a black bear spirit, and General Yin is a tiger spirit. The other evil beings around here are all mountain spirits, tree ghosts, monstrous beasts, and gray wolves. It is only because your original nature is pure and clear that they could not eat you. Follow me, and I will show you the way.”
Tripitaka was deeply grateful. He placed the bundles on the horse, took the reins, and followed the old man out of the pit and onto a main road. He tied the horse to some grass by the roadside, turned around to bow and thank the old man, but the old man suddenly transformed into a gentle breeze, mounted a red-crested white crane, and flew up into the sky. A slip of paper drifted down from the wind, bearing a four-line verse:
I am the Gold Star of the Western Heaven,
Come specially to rescue your life.
Ahead, divine disciples will assist you,
Do not complain about the sutras because of hardship.
After reading this, Tripitaka knelt and bowed toward the sky, saying, “Thank you, Gold Star, for delivering me from this calamity!” After bowing, he took the horse and, all alone, continued westward with difficulty. On this Forked Ridge, truly: The cold, whistling wind in the rain forest howled; the rushing mountain stream water splashed and roared. Fragrant wildflowers bloomed; dense, chaotic piles of rocks lay about. Deer and gibbons noisily frolicked; roe deer and river deer gathered in herds. The calls of birds were a chaotic jumble, but not a trace of a traveler could be seen. The elder’s heart trembled with fear; the horse was so weary it could hardly lift its hooves.
Tripitaka risked his life to push forward and finally climbed up the steep ridge. After walking for half a day, he saw neither a human figure nor a village. First, he was hungry; second, the mountain path was uneven. Just as he was in dire straits, he suddenly saw two fierce tigers roaring in front, several long pythons coiling behind, venomous insects on the left, and strange beasts on the right. Tripitaka was all alone and utterly helpless, so he could only resign himself to fate. But the horse also became so frightened that its back went weak and its hooves buckled; it lost control of its bowels and bladder, collapsed to the ground, and would not get up. Striking it or pulling it had no effect. Tripitaka was frantic, with nowhere to hide. His heart was filled with utter misery, and he felt certain he was doomed, with no way out at all.
However, although he faced this calamity, he also had a savior. Just as he was on the verge of death, suddenly the venomous insects fled, the monstrous birds flew away, the fierce tigers hid, and the long pythons disappeared. Tripitaka looked up and saw a man holding a steel fork in his hand, with a bow and arrows hanging from his waist, emerging from behind the hillside. Truly a fine fellow! Look at him: On his head, he wore a leopard-skin cap patterned with mugwort leaves; on his body, he wore a brocade garment woven from lambswool; around his waist, he tied a lion-mane belt; on his feet, he wore a pair of river-deer-skin boots. His eyes were round and large like a judge’s; his face was covered with a thick, curly beard like the River Kui God. A quiver of poisoned arrows hung from his waist, and in his hand, he held a steel-tipped heavy fork. His roar could shatter the gall of mountain insects; his bravery could frighten away the souls of pheasants.
Seeing him approach, Tripitaka knelt by the roadside, pressed his palms together, and shouted loudly, “Great king, save my life! Great king, save my life!”
The man walked up to him, set down his steel fork, reached out his hand, and helped Tripitaka to his feet. He said, “Elder, do not be afraid. I am not a bad person. I am a hunter in these mountains. My surname is Liu, and my given name is Boqin. My nickname is the Mountain-Suppressing Guardian. I had just come out intending to catch two tigers for food when I unexpectedly encountered you. Please forgive any offense.”
Tripitaka said, “I am an imperial envoy dispatched by the Great Tang emperor, a monk on my way to the Western Heaven to pay homage to the Buddha and seek the scriptures. Just now, as I was passing through here, I was surrounded by wolves, tigers, snakes, and insects, and I could not go forward. Thanks to your arrival, Guardian, the beasts all fled, saving my life. I am most grateful! Most grateful!”
Liu Boqin said, “I live in these mountains, making my living by hunting wolves, tigers, and catching snakes and insects. That is why the beasts all fear me and have fled. Since you have come from the Tang dynasty, we are fellow countrymen. This place is still within the Great Tang’s territory, and I am also a subject of the Great Tang. We both eat the emperor’s grain and are indeed people of the same nation. Do not be afraid. Come with me to my home to rest. Tomorrow, I will see you on your way.”
Tripitaka was overjoyed. He thanked Liu Boqin, took the horse, and followed him.
After crossing the hillside, they heard the sound of a rushing wind again. Liu Boqin said, “Elder, do not go forward. Wait here. The sound of this wind means a mountain cat is coming. I will go and catch it to entertain you properly.”
Upon hearing this, Tripitaka was once again terrified, his heart trembling, and he dared not move a step. Liu Boqin took his steel fork, strode forward, and met the beast head-on. A striped, fierce tiger came running from the opposite direction. When it saw Liu Boqin, it hastily turned and fled. Liu Boqin let out a great shout, “Vicious beast! Where do you think you’re going!” Seeing him in pursuit, the tiger quickly turned around and swiped its claws at him. Liu Boqin raised his three-pronged fork to meet the attack. Tripitaka was so frightened he collapsed onto the grass—from the day he was born until now, he had never seen such a dangerous scene!
Liu Boqin and the tiger faced off at the foot of the hillside. It was truly a fierce battle. Rage surged, and a fierce wind rolled. Rage surged: the Guardian’s fury rose to his hair, his strength surpassing all others. A fierce wind rolled: the fierce tiger displayed its ferocity, raising clouds of dust. The tiger bared its fangs and brandished its claws; the Guardian turned and dodged. The three-pronged fork could block the sun; the tiger’s tail could stir up clouds and mist. The Guardian stabbed wildly at the tiger’s chest; the tiger lunged and snapped at the Guardian’s face. Those who dodged would live; those who were hit would surely meet the King of Hell. One could only hear the tiger’s roar and the Guardian’s shouts. The tiger’s roar shook the mountains and rivers, startling birds and beasts; the Guardian’s shouts made the stars in the heavenly palace appear. The tiger’s golden eyes blazed with anger; the Guardian’s courage flared into rage. How admirable was the Mountain-Suppressing Liu Guardian! How praiseworthy was the tiger king of the mountains! Man and beast fought for their very lives; the slightest misstep would mean certain death.
The two fought for about two hours. Gradually, the tiger’s claws slowed and its back loosened. Liu Boqin raised his fork and thrust it straight into the tiger’s chest. Alas, the poor beast was pierced through the heart and liver by the steel fork’s tip. In an instant, blood flowed everywhere. Liu Boqin grabbed the tiger by the ears and dragged it onto the path. What a fine fellow! His breath was steady, his face unchanged. He said to Tripitaka, “What luck! What luck! This tiger will be enough to feed you, elder, for several days.”
Tripitaka praised him endlessly, saying, “Guardian, you must be a mountain god descended to the mortal world!”
Boqin said, “I have no great skill. I dare not accept your praise. This is all due to your great fortune, elder. Come! Let us skin the tiger quickly and boil some tiger meat to entertain you.”
With his steel fork in one hand and dragging the tiger with the other, he led the way. Tripitaka followed, leading the horse. The two walked slowly over the hillside when they suddenly saw a mountain village. Before the village gate, truly: towering ancient trees and creeping wild vines covered the path. Amidst the ten thousand ravines, the wind and dust were clear and cold; over the thousand cliffs, the atmosphere was strange and unique. A small path was flanked by fragrant wildflowers; a few stalks of secluded bamboo stood green and lush. The spacious gate and wicker fence walls were like a scene from a painting; the stone slab bridge and whitewashed earthen walls were truly rare in their secluded purity. The autumn scene was bleak, the autumn sky was clear and high. Yellow leaves fell by the roadside; white clouds drifted over the ridge. In the sparse forest, mountain birds sang; outside the village gate, a little dog barked.
Boqin reached the gate, threw the dead tiger to the ground, and shouted, “Servants!” Three or four household servants, all with somewhat strange appearances, ran out. They came forward and, with much effort, carried the tiger into the village. Boqin ordered, “Skin it quickly and prepare to entertain the guest.” Then he turned back and welcomed Tripitaka into the village.
After they met, Tripitaka again bowed to thank Boqin for saving his life. Boqin said, “We are fellow countrymen. There is no need for such formality.” As they sat down to drink tea, an elderly woman led a young woman over to pay their respects to Tripitaka. Boqin said, “This is my mother and my wife.”
Tripitaka said, “Please, venerable lady, take the seat of honor. This humble monk pays his respects.”
The old woman said, “Elder, you have come from afar. There is no need for such ceremony.”
Boqin said, “Mother, he is a high monk sent by the Tang emperor to go to the Western Heaven to see the Buddha and seek the scriptures. I encountered him on the ridge just now. Mindful of our bond as fellow countrymen, I invited him to rest at our home. Tomorrow, I will see him on his way.”
The old woman was overjoyed upon hearing this. She said, “Good! Good! Good! Even if we had specially gone to invite him, we could not have found such a fortunate coincidence. Tomorrow is the death anniversary of your father. Please ask the elder to perform some rites and chant a few scrolls of sutras. Then, the day after tomorrow, you can send him on his way.”
Although Liu Boqin was a tiger-killing hero and a mountain-suppressing guardian, he was a filial son. Hearing his mother’s words, he prepared incense and paper money and decided to keep Tripitaka for the night.
As they spoke, the day gradually darkened. The servants set out the tables and chairs and placed several plates of steaming cooked tiger meat on the table. Boqin invited Tripitaka to eat first, saying he would prepare a separate meal afterward. Tripitaka pressed his palms together and said, “Blessed be! This humble monk will not hide it from you, Guardian. Since I was born and became a monk, I have never eaten any meat.”
Upon hearing this, Boqin pondered for a moment and said, “Elder, my family has never been vegetarian for generations. Even if we have bamboo shoots, wood ear mushrooms, dried vegetables, or tofu, they are all stir-fried in the fat of roe deer, deer, tigers, or leopards. There is truly no vegetarian food available. Both of our stoves are thoroughly greasy as well. What is to be done? I invited you here, elder, and now I have been remiss in my hospitality.”
Tripitaka said, “Guardian, do not trouble yourself. Please eat your fill. I can endure hunger for three to five days without food, but I must not break my vegetarian precept.”
Boqin said, “What if you starve to death?”
Tripitaka said, “Thanks to you, Guardian, for saving my life and rescuing me from the midst of tigers and wolves. Even if I starve to death, it would be better than being eaten by a tiger.”
Boqin’s mother heard this and called out, “Son, stop arguing with the elder. I have vegetarian food that I can serve to the elder.”
Boqin said, “Where would we get vegetarian food?”
His mother said, “Do not worry. I have my ways.” She told her daughter-in-law to take down the small pot, burn out the grease, and scrub it and wash it repeatedly until it was clean, then put it back on the stove. First, they boiled half a pot of water for later use. Then, they made a tea broth from mountain ground-elm leaves. After that, they cooked a pot of yellow millet rice. They also boiled some dried vegetables and filled two bowls, placing them on the table.
The old woman said to Tripitaka, “Elder, please begin your vegetarian meal. My daughter-in-law and I made it ourselves. It is very clean.”
Tripitaka rose to thank her before sitting down. Boqin, on the other side, sat down with a table full of unsalted, unseasoned tiger meat, fragrant roe deer meat, python meat, fox meat, rabbit meat, and dried venison. He accompanied Tripitaka as he ate his vegetarian meal. Just as he was about to pick up his chopsticks, he saw Tripitaka press his palms together and begin to chant a sutra. Startled, Boqin did not dare to move his chopsticks and quickly stood up, stepping to the side. After Tripitaka had chanted for only a short while, he said, “Please begin your meal.”
Boqin said, “Are you a monk who chants short sutras?”
Tripitaka said, “This is not a sutra. It is a verse for breaking the fast.”
Boqin said, “You followers of the Buddha have so many formalities. You even have to chant before eating.”
After the meal, when the dishes and chopsticks were cleared away, it was already quite late. Boqin led Tripitaka out of the main hall and took him to the back for a walk. Passing through a covered passage, they came to a thatched pavilion. Pushing open the door and entering, they saw several powerful bows and crossbows hanging on the four walls, along with several quivers of arrows. Two bloodstained tiger skins were draped over the beams. Many spears, knives, forks, and clubs were stuck into the base of the walls. In the center of the room were two chairs. Boqin invited Tripitaka to sit down. Tripitaka, seeing how dangerous and dirty the place was, did not dare to stay long and left the thatched pavilion.
Walking further back, they came to a large garden. Clusters of yellow chrysanthemums were in full bloom, and several maple and willow trees were adorned with red leaves. Suddenly, with a “whoosh,” a dozen fat deer and a large herd of yellow roe deer ran out. Seeing people, they were not afraid at all, just standing there dumbly. Tripitaka said, “These roe deer and deer must be raised by your household, Guardian?”
Boqin said, “Just like the wealthy families in your city of Chang’an accumulate treasures, and those with estates accumulate grain, we hunters can only raise some wild beasts to use when the weather is bad and we cannot hunt.”
The two chatted as they strolled, and before they knew it, dusk had fallen. They returned to the front of the house to rest.
Early the next morning, the entire Boqin family rose, prepared a vegetarian meal for Tripitaka, and invited him to begin chanting the sutras. After washing his hands, Tripitaka, together with Boqin, burned incense and paid respects to the household gods in front of the family shrine. Then, he struck his wooden fish and first chanted the true words for purifying the karma of the mouth, followed by the divine spell for purifying the body and mind. Next, he chanted one scroll of the Sutra of Crossing Over the Dead. After finishing, Boqin asked him to write a memorial for the deceased. Then, he chanted the Diamond Sutra and the Guanyin Sutra, both recited in a loud voice. After finishing, they ate the noon meal. Then, he chanted several scrolls each of the Lotus Sutra and the Amitabha Sutra, as well as one scroll of the Peacock Sutra, and recounted the story of the bhikshu washing away his karmic offenses. Soon, evening arrived. Various incense and offerings were laid out, and paper horses for the gods and the memorial for the deceased were burned. The Buddhist rites were then concluded, and everyone retired for the night.
Let us now speak of Boqin’s father’s soul. Having received deliverance from suffering through the rites, he appeared that very night in a dream to the entire family. He said, “I was suffering in the underworld and could not be reborn for a long time. Thanks to the sacred monk chanting the sutras, my sins have been annulled. The King of Yama has sent me to be reborn into a wealthy and noble family in China. You must properly thank the elder and not be remiss in your hospitality. I am leaving now.” Truly, “The majestic Dharma has a profound meaning: delivering the deceased from suffering and lifting them out of the cycle of rebirth.”
When the whole family woke up, the sun had already risen. Boqin’s wife said, “Guardian, last night I dreamed that my father-in-law came home. He said that he was suffering in the underworld and could not be reborn. Thanks to the sacred monk chanting the sutras, his sins were annulled, and the King of Yama sent him to be reborn into a wealthy and noble family in China. He told us to thank the elder properly and not to be remiss in our hospitality. After saying this, he walked out the door and left. We called out to him, but he would not answer; we tried to stop him, but he would not stay. It turned out to be a dream.”
Boqin said, “I had the same dream. I was just about to tell you.” Just as the two were about to tell the old woman, they heard her call out, “Son, come here. I have something to tell you.”
The two went over to her. The old woman was sitting on the bed and said, “Son, last night I had a wonderful dream. I dreamed that your father came back. He said that thanks to the elder’s rites for crossing over the dead, his sins were annulled, and he has gone to be reborn into a wealthy and noble family in China.”
The husband and wife both laughed and said, “We had the same dream. We were just about to tell you.” So they called the entire household to rise, prepared gifts of thanks, readied the horse, and together went to the front of the house to bow and thank Tripitaka. They said, “Thank you, elder, for delivering my father from suffering and allowing him to be reborn. We can never repay your kindness!”
Tripitaka said, “This humble monk has no great ability. I dare not accept your thanks.”
Boqin told Tripitaka about the dream that all three family members had shared. Tripitaka was also delighted. Soon, the servants brought out a vegetarian meal. Boqin also took out one tael of silver as a gift of thanks. Tripitaka would not accept a single coin. The whole family earnestly pressed him, but Tripitaka still refused. He only said, “If only the Guardian would be so kind as to see me a little further on my way, I would be most grateful.”
Boqin, his mother, and his wife had no choice. They hastily made some coarse flour flatcakes as dry provisions and asked Boqin to see Tripitaka off. Tripitaka happily accepted them. Obeying his mother’s orders, Boqin also called two or three household servants, all carrying their hunting gear, to accompany Tripitaka on his way. Along the road, the wild scenery of the mountains and the beautiful sights of the ridges were truly breathtaking.
After walking for half a day, they saw a large mountain ahead, towering into the clouds and extremely steep and perilous. Before long, they reached the foot of the mountain. Boqin walked on the mountain as if it were level ground. When they reached the middle of the mountain, Boqin turned around, stood by the roadside, and said, “Elder, you must go forward on your own from here. I must return now.”
Upon hearing this, Tripitaka immediately dismounted in haste and said, “I beg you, Guardian, to see me a little further!”
Boqin said, “Elder, you do not understand. This mountain is called Two Realms Mountain. To the east is the territory of our Great Tang. To the west is the territory of the Tartars. The wolves and tigers over there do not heed my control, and I cannot cross the boundary. Therefore, I can only see you this far. You must go on alone.”
Tripitaka’s heart was filled with fear. He reached out and grabbed Boqin’s clothes, weeping with reluctance. As the two were bidding each other farewell with earnest words, they suddenly heard a thunderous shout from the foot of the mountain: “My master has come! My master has come!”
This shout frightened Tripitaka into standing stock