This is a fresh, complete English translation of Wu Cheng’en’s public-domain one-hundred-chapter novel, produced with GPT-5.3-Codex-Spark assistance. It is an AI-assisted first edition, not a reproduction of an existing translation.

Yet it is said that the ghost messengers together with the couple Liu Quan and his wife came out of the Underworld. The wind of yin spiraled about them, and in an instant they reached Great Chang’an, where they thrust Liu Quan’s spirit into the Hall of Golden Pavilion and carried Cuilian’s soul into the inner palace courtyard. There, in the flower shade, Lady Yu Ying, chief of the pavilion, was slowly walking over the green moss when the ghost envoy sprang upon her from all sides, toppled her to the ground, and seized her spirit alive, then drove Cuilian’s soul into Yu Ying’s body. The ghost envoys returned to the netherworld; nothing more is to be told.

Then the palace maidservants and attendants of the inner court saw Yu Ying collapse as though dead, and hurried to the Hall of Golden Altar and reported to the Queen Mother of the Three Palaces, “The mistress of the pavilion has fallen dead.” The queen was startled and immediately informed Taizong. Hearing it, Taizong nodded and sighed, “This does happen. I once asked the Yama of the Tenth Court: ‘Are the young and old safe?’ He answered, ‘All are safe, but do not forget His Sister’s life is short.’ Truly his words were true.” All the palace women came with grief-laden cries and hurried to the shade of the flowers, where Yu Ying showed the slightest breath. “Do not wail! Do not wail! Do not frighten her,” said Tang Wang. He came forward and raised her head with the imperial hand, crying, “Imperial sister, wake up, wake up.” At once she turned over and said, “Husband, go slowly, wait for me.” Taizong replied, “Imperial sister, it is your elder brother and sister here.” Yu Ying raised her head and opened her eyes: “Who are you to speak so? Who dares to pull me?” Taizong said, “Your brother of the empire and your sister-in-law.” She answered, “How could I have an imperial brother or imperial sister-in-law? My maiden family name is Li, and my milk name is Li Cuilian. My husband is Liu named Quan; we are both from Junzhou. Three months ago I took my gold hairpin off and made offerings to monks at the gate, and my husband scolded me for going out on my own, saying I was not keeping to a wife’s conduct. Angry and choked with grief, I tied a white silk ribbon to the beam and hanged myself, leaving two children and weeping day and night. Now, because my husband was summoned by the Son of Tang to carry melons and fruit to the underworld, Yama, in pity, allowed us both to return. He went ahead; because I was late, I could not catch him and I stumbled and fell. You ruffians! You do not even know my name—how could you dare to drag me?” Taizong, hearing this, told the women, “You see, Imperial sister fainted from her fall and is only babbling.” He ordered medicine from the Imperial Medical Bureau, and they carried Yu Ying back into the palace.

In the Hall, Taizong sat in audience when a mounted official announced, “Your Majesty, a man named Liu Quan who brought melons and fruit as an offering and has returned from the dead is waiting outside the Hall gate to receive your instruction.” Taizong was startled and at once ordered him summoned. Liu Quan knelt on the cinnabar terrace and bowed. “How did it go with the business of bringing melons and fruit?” asked Taizong. “I presented the melons and fruit to the spirit gate, went straight to the Gates of Ghosts, and was taken to the Hall of Karmic Netting. I met the Yama of the Tenth Court and offered the fruit and gourds, stating Your Majesty’s respectful thanks. He was greatly pleased and kept bowing to Your Majesty, saying, ‘He is truly a pious and faithful emperor, the Great Tang Taizong!’” Taizong asked, “What did you see in the underworld?” Liu Quan replied, “I did not travel far and saw nothing of note, only heard Lord Yama question me on my native place and my name. I told him I had abandoned home and children; my wife hanged herself, and I had come to present this fruit and gourds as I wished. He at once sent ghost envoys to fetch my wife. In the Hall of Karmic Netting I met her. On one side they also consulted the Registers of Life and Death and declared that my wife and I both had lifespans yet to ascend toward immortality, so the envoys were ordered to return us. My wife followed behind me and came back because I returned first. Yet we do not know where my wife has been brought.” Taizong pressed him: “Did Yama say anything of her?” Liu Quan said, “He did not. I only heard a ghost saying, ‘Li Cuilian has long returned to the realm of yin; her body is no longer preserved.’ Yama said, ‘His Sister the Yu Ying of the Tang realm is now due to die soon; let Cuilian borrow Yu Ying’s body and return her to life.’ I do not know where this ‘Yu Ying of the Tang’ belongs or where to find it.”

When Taizong heard the report, he was overjoyed and said to the assembled ministers, “I asked Yama before. He said, ‘The young and old are all safe, but Imperial Sister’s life span is short.’ Yet just now Imperial Sister Yu Ying fell in the flower shade and was taken as dead; I hurried and lifted her, and for a moment she revived and called out, ‘Husband, go slowly, wait for me.’ I took it then as mere delirium from collapse. I asked again and heard, to my astonishment, the same words as Liu Quan spoke.” Wei Zheng submitted, “Imperial Sister’s life is short; she wakes briefly and then speaks these words. This is the matter of Liu Quan’s wife borrowing a body to return to life. It does happen. It is possible. Let the pavilion mistress be brought out so she may say what she has to say.” Taizong said, “I have already ordered the Imperial Medical Bureau to give medicine. I do not know how things proceed.” He then ordered the consorts to enter the palace and summon her. Inside, Yu Ying was crying out chaotically, “What medicine am I to take? Whose house is this? My home is the cool-tiled house of my own, not this chamber of sickly yellow plague, with its fox-crying flowered door screens—let me out! Let me out!”

As she was crying out, four or five female officials and two or three eunuchs came and supported her all the way up to the Hall. Taizong asked, “Do you recognize your husband?” Yu Ying replied, “What kind of talk is that? We are husband and wife, tied together since childhood, and we have sons and daughters together. How could I not recognize him?” Taizong ordered the inner attendants to carry her downstairs. At the foot of the white-jade stair, Lady Yu Ying reached Liu Quan, seized him by the sleeve, and said, “Husband, where did you go, without waiting for me? I tripped and fell, and those who had no reason to be there surrounded me and shouted. How is this to be explained?” Liu Quan heard what she said and knew the words were those of a wife, but he would not acknowledge her by face; he had known her only in spirit. Taizong said, “Indeed, in this world and all of this one, one does not easily find someone to snatch life for one’s own and then return it.” A king of true understanding, he praised himself so. He then bestowed upon Liu Quan, as if it were dowry, all the garments, ornaments, and bridal treasures of Imperial Sister, and granted him an edict of perpetual exemption from forced labor, ordering him to take the palace mistress back home. The two of them thanked the emperor at the terrace and left joyfully to their home. There is a poem to bear witness:

Life and death are bound by prior bonds; some are short, some are long, each with its allotted years. Liu Quan brought melons and fruit and returned to the sunlit world; by borrowing a body, Li Cuilian came back to life. After bidding farewell to the king, the two came straight to Junzhou, found old property and children all in good order, and the couple proclaimed the merits of their good deed, which need not be detailed here.

Now it is said that Yuchi Gong brought one storehouse of gold and silver to Kaifeng Prefecture in Henan and made inquiries. In life, Xiangliang (also called Xiang) had made his living by selling water, and with his wife Zhang sold black-pottery jars at the gate for a livelihood; whatever he earned only sufficed for daily expenses, and a portion was used to feed monks and to buy paper ingots of gold and silver for burning offerings, thus earning this return of merit in this life. In the world of Yang, he had been a poor man of good virtue; in that other world, he was a gentleman piled high with jade and gold. Yuchi Gong brought the gold and silver to their doorstep, and the pair nearly lost their wits, their souls as if gone. Courtiers from the prefectural office also came, and horse and carriage gathered outside their thatched hut. The old couple stood mute as fools, kneeling on the ground in repeated prostration and prayer. Yuchi Gong said, “Elders, please rise. I may be an imperial envoy, but I bear back from our lord this gold and silver to return to you.” Trembling, he replied, “I have no little debts of gold or silver; how could I dare receive this unclear wealth?” Yuchi Gong said, “I know you were poor in the world of men, but you did alms to monks. You spent your means on buying paper ingots of gold and silver to burn as records for the netherworld; in the underworld there is your hoarded money and notes. Three days ago, when our Emperor Taizong died and was returned to life, he borrowed one storehouse of gold and silver there. I now bring it back to you by exact accounting. Accept these and let me return with an answer.” The pair simply raised their faces to Heaven and bowed in prayer, not daring to accept. “If I accept this gold and silver, I will die all the sooner,” the old man said. “Though it was paper burned in account, it is a matter of the hidden realms. Yet how can I trust that this was borrowed by the Son of Heaven in that other world? There is no proof. I dare not receive it.” Yuchi Gong said, “His Majesty says there is a guarantee from official Cui that this is yours to take back.” Xiangliang said, “Even in death, I dare not accept it.”

Seeing how stubbornly they refused, Yuchi Gong prepared a report and had it sent up. Taizong read the memorial and, learning that Xiangliang would not accept the gold and silver, said, “This is truly a truly good and kindly elder.” He immediately ordered Hu Jingde to carry the gold and silver for repair of a temple to build a life shrine and then have monks do meritorious works, treating this as repayment in equal measure. When the edict arrived, Hu Jingde, standing before the gate, thanked the emperor and proclaimed the order; all became aware of it. They then bought a parcel of land in the city that was free of obstruction to soldiers and citizens alike, a site about fifty mu across, and there set masons and laborers at work to build a monastery named “Imperially Ordered Xiangguo Temple.” To one side were built the spirit shrines of Xiangliang and his wife, with a carved stele inscribed: “Yuchi Gong oversaw construction.” It is known now as the Great Xiangguo Temple.

When the work was completed and reported, Emperor Taizong was extremely pleased. Yet he again assembled many officials, posted a public roster to summon monks, and undertook the building of a Great Shuilu Assembly to save the lonely souls in the netherworld. The announcement ran through the realm, and he instructed the officials in each locality to select worthy and accomplished monks to come to Chang’an for the gathering. After about a month, many monks from all over the empire had arrived. The Tang king issued an order instructing Fu Yi, Taishi Cheng, to choose high monks and organize the Buddhist rites. After hearing the order, Fu Yi immediately submitted a memorial demanding that the Buddha halls be suppressed, arguing that there was no Buddha. He wrote:

The Dharma of the Western Regions knows no lord and subject, no father and son; by speaking of the three hells and six realms it confuses the foolish. It digs up sins of past lives and peers into blessings yet to come, chanting Sanskrit to seek a way of dodging consequence. Life and death, longevity and shortness of life are all from Nature; punishments, virtue, awe, and blessings belong to the sovereign. Now I hear common followers making false claims, all saying it is due to the Buddha. From the Five Emperors and Three Kings onward, there has never been Buddha Dharma; where the ruler is wise and ministers loyal, the years of the dynasty last long. Only in the time of Han Ming-di was a Hu divinity set up, and yet only the Sang tradition from the Western Regions spreads its own teaching. In truth this is a barbarian intrusion into China and is not worthy of belief. Emperor Taizong, after hearing this, tossed the memorial among the ministers for discussion. At that moment Chancellor Xiao Yu came forward and bowed, saying, "Buddhism has risen in many courts; it promotes kindness and restrains evil, and has in turn aided the state. Buddha is a sage. No one without sagehood has a Dharma; I beg that the strictest punishment be maintained." Fu Yi disputed with Xiao Yu, saying, "Ritual propriety begins with serving one's parents and one's ruler, but Buddhism leaves one's parents to take vows, with an ordinary man opposing the Son of Heaven and transgressing the order of filial duty." Xiao Yu merely joined his palms and said, "The netherworld is arranged exactly for such people." Taizong then summoned Minister Zhang Daoyuan, Grand Secretary Zhang Shiheng, and asked how the Buddhist rites should be conducted. The two ministers answered, "Buddha is in purity and compassion; truly, Buddha is emptiness. In the age of Emperor Wu of Zhou the Three Teachings were set in order. Great-Hui Chan Master had praised the subtle and remote, and after countless offerings among all assemblies, he was all too evident; the Fifth Patriarch incarnated, and Bodhidharma appeared. Since ancient times all have said that the Three Teachings are supreme and must not be disparaged or abandoned. I beg Your Majesty to use Your enlightened discernment." Taizong was very pleased: "Your words are sound. Should anyone advance this objection again, he shall be punished." He then ordered Wei Zheng, Xiao Yu, and Zhang Daoyuan to invite the Buddhas and choose one elder of great virtue and moral practice to serve as the altar master, and to establish the preaching hall. All prostrated, thanked the grace, and withdrew. From this point onward a law was enacted: anyone who destroyed monks or slandered Buddha would have his arms cut off.

The next day, three court ministers gathered many monks at the Mountain-and-River Altar and, one by one from beginning to end, examined and selected candidates. Among them they found one high monk of great virtue. Who, ask you, was he?

His given name was Lingtong, called Jinchan, and only because he listened to Buddhist teachings with an unsullied mind. Cast from the sky into dusty mortals, he endured worldly hardship; when he took birth in the secular realm, he was soon caught in the net. After descending into the womb, he at once met calamity; before he came forth, he had met evil factions. His father was Chen Guangru, a zhuangyuan in Hai Prefecture; his maternal grandfather was the director-general in office at court. He was born under the star of the Riverfall, and drifted with the current and the waves, adrift. On the Gold Mountain beyond the sea, Great Monk Qianan took him in and raised him. At eighteen he recognized his true mother and father and traveled to the capital seeking the Outer Elders. The director-general raised armies to suppress bandits and punish cruel gangs in Hongzhou. Scholar Guangrui, the zhuangyuan, broke through the heavenly snares; a father and son, reunited, were fittingly worthy of praise. Again he paid court in thanks for today's grace, and his worthy name resounded from the Lingyan Pavilion. Grateful officials do not accept favor; he vowed to be a monk, and the monk Hongfu inquired along the Dharma path. His little name was Jiangliu'er; his Dharma name was given as Chen Xuanzang. They presented Master Xuanzang before the assembly that day. This man had been a monk since childhood; from the very time he came from his mother's womb he had observed fasting and kept precepts. His grandmother had seen that his maternal grandfather was Yin Kaishan, the Great Director in current court service. His father, Chen Guangrui, had once achieved first place in the palace examinations and was appointed Great Scholar of the Wenyuan Hall. He had no love for worldly glory, only joy in cultivation and quiet extinction. On inquiry, his roots were found sound and his conduct high. He was versed in thousands of sutras and texts, with no branch of learning he did not know. His Buddhist sobriquet was Xianyin; he knew every form there is.

At that time those three brought him to the throne and, after ritual dust-purifying and obeisance, prostrated and reported: "We, the ministers under the imperial decree, have selected one eminent monk, Master Chen Xuanzang." When Taizong heard the name, he thought deeply for a long while and said, "Is this the Xuanzang who is the son of Scholar Chen Guangrui?" Jiangliu'er knelt and said, "I am he." Taizong rejoiced, "Then indeed you were chosen correctly. You are truly a monk of virtue and a mind settled in Chan." He bestowed upon you the offices of Left Sang-gang and Right Sang-gang, and the post of Da-Chan-dou-gang Grand Sang Master for all the realm. Xuanzang knelt and thanked him, receiving the Great Chan Office. He also granted him one robe of brocaded silk with five-coloured gold thread and one Pilu hat. He instructed him to bow carefully and again to summon the eminent monks, arrange them at the head of the Dharani ranks, write and implement the edict, then go first to Huasheng Temple, choose an auspicious date and hour, and open the ceremony of expounding the sutras.

After receiving and bowing once more, Xuanzang departed. He went to Huasheng Temple, gathered many monks, built meditation beds, prepared offerings and merit, and arranged the music. He selected one thousand two hundred monks in total, senior and junior, and assigned them to upper, middle, and lower halls. All items before each Buddha image were prepared and ordered in place. On the third day of the ninth month in the same year, on an auspicious date, he opened the Great Shuilu Assembly to be held for seven times seven, forty-nine days. He submitted a memorial at once. Emperor Taizong, the nobles of the civil and military offices, and imperial relatives all arrived on time for the assembly and burned incense while listening to the teachings. A poem bears witness:

In the Thirteenth Year of Zhenguan the dragon banners gathered; the king addressed the great assembly and spoke of the scriptures. On the altar the immeasurable Dharma was opened in exposition; in cloud and mist, light rode the cavern of vast vows. By imperial order, grace descended to build the Great Hall; the golden cicada sheds its shell and turns westward. Universal kindness bestowed, it lifts souls beyond sinking depths; carrying the teaching it proclaims before and after all three times.

In the thirteenth year of Zhenguan, the cyclical sign was jisi, ninth month, jiame, third day, the hour jimao was propitious. Master Xuanzang, Great Da-Chan-dou-gang, assembled one thousand two hundred eminent monks, and in Chang’an’s Huasheng Temple he opened and taught the wondrous sutras of many kinds. The emperor had finished the morning court, and leading many civil and military officers, mounted a phoenix sedan and dragon carriage, left the Golden Throne Hall, and went straight to the temple to hold incense. What did that royal progress look like? Truly it was:

One sky of auspicious qi, ten thousand rays of lucky light. A gentle wind of benevolence stirred softly, and the transmuted sun shone with rare splendour. A thousand officials in jade ornaments formed ranks before and after; banners of the Five Guard Regiments lined both sides. Golden purses in hand, axes and battle-halberds borne, paired in symmetrical lines. Scarlet-silk candles and imperial incense furnaces burned; the incense clouds rose, vast and stately. Dragons flew and phoenixes danced, hawks and eagles rose aloft. The sagely Son of Heaven stood upright; loyal ministers of fidelity and righteousness stood by him. Over a thousand years of blessing passed him as Shun and Yu once did; peace for ten thousand ages rivalled Yao and Tang. Again, look at the curved-handled parasol, at the rolling dragon robe; lights flashed in cross-reflections. Jade linked chains, painted phoenix fans, and auspicious vapour drifted in swirls. Pearl crowns and jade belts, purple ribbons and gilded seals. A thousand escort units guarded the carriage, with the bearers lined in two files. This emperor, in devout reverence and respectful devotion to Buddha, rejoiced as he held incense in worship.

Emperor Taizong arrived at the temple early, and ordered that all music and wind instruments be stilled. He left the sedan chair and, together with many officials, bowed and burned incense before Buddha. After three rounds of obeisance he lifted his head to look and found, indeed, a splendid altar platform:

Banners and streamers fluttered, while the jewel canopies gleamed. Banners and streamers fluttered; to heaven they rose, and hues of dawn-like cloud swayed in the vault. The jewel canopies glowed; under the sun they flashed like flickering scarlet lightning. The gold image of the World-Honoured One was radiant beyond measure; the Arhats of jade countenance burned with majestic force. Bottles held immortal flowers, and altars burned sandalwood incense. Bottles held immortal flowers, and embroidered trees shone, filling the precious hall. Altars burned sandalwood and fragrant clouds rolled thick, passing into the clear high sky. Fresh fruit and delicacies were arranged on red trays; strange shapes of sugar cakes were heaped on painted stands. Rows of great monks chanted true scriptures, praying to draw out isolated souls from pain and suffering. Taizong and all civil and military officials each held incense, bowed before the Buddha-image, and paid homage to the Arhats. He then saw Great Da-Chan-dou-gang Master Xuanzang lead the assembled monks in a collective bow toward the Tang king. After the courtesy rites, each rank was seated in their Chan places. The master presented the Salvation-List for the Lonely Dead for Taizong to read. It read: Great virtue is unfathomable; Chan is quiescent and extinct. Pure and clear spiritual penetration flows through the three realms. Through ten thousand changes and myriad forms it governs yin and yang. Essence and function are truly abiding and eternal, boundless without end. Look at those lonely souls; they have deep need of compassion. By imperial command, and in obedience to Taizong, we have selected many monks to sit in Chan and speak Dharma. We opened wide an expedient gateway and broad-voiced compassion as oars, extending mercy to all beings in the sea of suffering and freeing them from the sickly torments of the six destinies. Leading them to the path of truth, we let all behold the vast and vague realms; in movement and rest there is non-action; in harmony all is refined simplicity. With this good cause, we welcome the Pure Capital and Vermilion Ramparts. Riding this fortunate assembly, one escapes the mortal cage of hell. Soon one mounts the Pure Land and roams at ease, going and coming in the Western Paradise with unbounded freedom. And then the poem: A single brazier of eternal-long-life incense, a few rolls of liberation talismans. Boundless wondrous Dharma is proclaimed; Heaven-bound grace is received without limit. Resentments and karmic debts are all removed; the lonely dead all leave the prison-house of hell. May my realm be preserved, may all under Heaven enjoy peace and blessings.

After reading it, Taizong was filled with joy and told the assembled monks, "You have held steadfast the cinnabar heart. Do not in any way neglect the Buddhist rites. When, after the work is done and brought to completion, each of you shall have some return of blessing. I shall reward you handsomely; your efforts will not be in vain." The one thousand two hundred monks all knelt at once and thanked him. On that same day, after the three ritual watches had ended, the Tang king departed. For the seventh day as the proper date, he again invited them to burn incense. By then evening was near and all officials withdrew. How could one tell it was such a good evening? Look at it here:

Across ten thousand li of open sky the pale afterglow faded, a few homebound crows marked the slow descent. All over the city the lanterns burned but the smoke of people was still; precisely the hour when Chan monks entered meditation. Thus one night of evening scenery was set down. The next morning, the Dharma master again ascended the seat, gathered the assembly, and had them chant the sutras. Not recorded further.

The emperor had departed and the assembly was complete. The following morning Master Xuanzang again ascended the lectern, gathered the assembly, and began the sutra chanting; not expanded here.

Say now that Guanyin Bodhisattva of Mount Putuo in the South Sea, having accepted the Buddha’s command, had gone to Changan to inspect those of virtuous character fit for the scripture journey, but for many days had not yet found anyone truly worthy. Then she heard that Emperor Taizong was publicly praising meritorious deeds, selecting eminent monks, and opening a great assembly. She then saw that the Dharma-altar master was Monk Jiang Liu’er, truly a Buddha-child sent down from Sukhavati and the elder who had originally brought him forth for rebirth. Delighted, the Bodhisattva brought the Buddha-gifted treasures up to the Great Street and had the Mucha sell them. What treasures were these? A wondrous brocaded robe, and a nine-hooped staff. There were also three gold coils, closely bound and carefully hidden away for later use. Only the robe and the staff were offered for sale.

In Changan there was an unlucky monk who had failed the selection but had a few strings of cash. He saw the Bodhisattva transformed into the appearance of a leper monk, in torn robes, barefoot and bald, holding out the robe; it shone with a vivid light. He stepped forward and asked, “Leper monk, how much are you asking for your robe?” The Bodhisattva answered, “The robe is worth five thousand taels, the staff two thousand taels.” The fool monk laughed, “These two leper monks are madmen, idiots. You call these two coarse things worth seven thousand taels of silver? Only if one puts them on and gains everlasting life and becomes Buddha and patriarch would they be worth so much! Take it and go—you cannot sell it at that price!”

The Bodhisattva did not argue, but moved on with the Mucha. After some distance they reached the East Flower Gate and happened to bump into Chancellor Xiao Yu returning as he left court, with officers shouting and trampling through the streets to clear the road. The Bodhisattva openly did not dodge out of the way. In the street she held up the robe and confronted the chancellor directly. Xiao Yu reined in his horse to look; seeing the robe glimmer with radiant beauty, he told the servant to ask the price of the robe on sale. The Bodhisattva said, “The robe is five thousand taels, the staff two thousand taels.” Xiao Yu said, “What merit makes it worth such a high price?” The Bodhisattva replied, “The robe has both benefits and drawbacks; there are cases where money is needed and cases where none is needed.” Xiao Yu asked, “What is benefit, what is drawback?” She replied, “Wearing my robe means not sinking into delusion, not falling into hell, not suffering poisonous catastrophe, not meeting tiger-and-wolf disaster—that is benefit. But if a monk is lustful and pleasure-seeking and ignorant, if he is a monk who neither fasts nor keeps vows, if a commoner corrupts the sutras and slanders Buddha, he cannot even behold my robe’s face—that is drawback. Again, what is payment, what is no payment?” She continued, “If one does not keep the Buddha’s Dharma, does not honor the Three Jewels, and forcibly buys the robe and staff, then seven thousand taels must be paid—that is payment. If one honors the Three Jewels, rejoices in good merit, takes refuge in my Buddha, and can bear to receive these, then gladly I will give robe and staff freely and form good affinity—that is no payment.” Hearing this, Xiao Yu grew still more bright-faced, knowing he had found a good man. At once he dismounted, greeted the Bodhisattva respectfully, and said, “Great Dharma elder, forgive me, Xiao Yu. The Great Tang emperor most cherishes merit-making, and all officials and generals of both civil and military courts follow this. This very morning he has ordered a great water-and-land assembly; this robe would suit Great Master Xuanzang to wear. Come with me and let us enter court to pay homage to the throne.”

Then said the Bodhisattva, happily agreeing, she turned and walked straight in through East Hua Gate. The inner-court officer announced her, and by decree she was summoned to the Treasure Hall. Seeing Xiao Yu bring in the two leper monks and stand at the steps, the Tang emperor asked, “What is this matter, Xiao Yu?” Xiao Yu knelt at the stair and said, “Your Majesty, just before leaving East Hua Gate this morning, I chanced to meet two monks selling a robe and staff. I thought Master Xuanzang could wear this robe, so I led the monks here to present them.” Emperor Taizong was overjoyed. He asked at once, “What is the value of this robe?” The Bodhisattva and the Mucha stood below the steps, giving no salute, and when asked answered, “The robe is five thousand taels, the staff two thousand taels.” Taizong said, “What merit does this robe have to be worth so much?” The Bodhisattva said:

This robe—one strand like a dragon draped about it averts the catastrophe of being swallowed by the Great Peng; one strand like a crane suspended from it brings the wondrous way of passing beyond the human and entering the holy. Wherever it sits, ten thousand spirits stand and pay homage. Wherever one moves, seven Buddhas accompany it. This robe is spun from silk of ice-caterpillars, expertly twisted into thread, woven by clever artisans into line and shape, woven by heavenly maidens and finished by heavenly girls stitching with pattern upon pattern. Patch meets patch and they support one another in brocade folds stacked high; tiny bright fragments scatter like competing ornaments. Its hue gleams, light billows, and jewels spray brilliance. Worn on the body, red mist circles; removing it, a ribbon of rainbow cloud takes flight. Through the Outer Three Heavens it emits primal radiance; before the Five Peaks appears treasured spirit-light. Layer upon layer it insets lotus from the Western Regions, with suspended bead-stars and star-clusters. At the four corners are moon-bright pearls; at the summit is a single emerald. Though it does not perfectly mirror its original form, it still holds life-light gathered from the eight treasures. Folded in idleness, it encloses a thousand-leaning rainbow; worn by the worthy, it startles and all heavens and spirits shrink back. Above it gleams a wish-fulfilling jewel, a Mani pearl, a dust-repelling pearl, and a wind-stilling jewel; as well as red agate, purple coral, moon-bright pearl, and relic fragment. It drinks in moonlight and whitens it, contending in red with the sun. Wavy strands of immortal qi fill the vault of air; clustered blossoms of auspicious light bear up the Sage. These strands of celestial qi fill the air and lighten the celestial pass. These blossoms of blessing light carry the Sage; their images spread through the worlds. It lights mountains and rivers and startles tigers and leopards; over sea-islands it stirs fish and dragons. Along the edges run two lines of melted-gold locks; at the collar hangs a linked-white jade bangle. Poem: The Three Jewels stand immense, deserving of honor; all in the four births and six realms have passed judgment. Enlightened-minded, it nourishes the Dharma of humans and gods; when one sees what is true, wisdom can pass as a lamp. It guards the body in majestic splendor as a golden world, body and mind made pure like jade-ice. Since the Buddha fashioned this robe, who in ten thousand kalpas could dare to cut from a monk?

Still in the Treasure Hall, Tang Emperor Taizong listened and was greatly pleased. He then asked, “Monk, what good does the nine-ring staff have?” The Bodhisattva said, “My staff is this:

Copper inlaid in iron, cast with nine linked rings, nine-knotted immortal vine, ever firm in face and form. Grasped in hand, it tires of looking on bleached emaciated bones; descending the mountain it lightly bears white clouds in return. Invoked by Mohé, the five patriarchs roam the heavenly hall; Luo-bu, seeking his mother, breaks open earth gates. It is not stained by even a speck of red-dust impurity, and joyfully keeps company with holy monks ascending Jade Mountain.”

When Taizong heard this, he ordered the robe unfurled and examined it from top to bottom. Indeed it was a superb object. He said, “Great Dharma elder, I will not hide this from you. I have now greatly spread the Dharma of goodness, widely sowed fields of blessing, and seen that at Huasheng Temple many monks gather and expound the teachings. Among them is one of deep virtue, named Xuanzang. I want to buy these two treasures and grant them for his use. Exactly what do you ask in payment?” At that, the Bodhisattva and the Mucha joined palms, took refuge, chanted the Buddha-name, bowed low, and declared, “Since there is such virtue, this poor monk is willing to give it to him and will not ask for money.” Saying this she turned as if to go. Taizong quickly signaled Xiao Yu to hold her back, bent in humility and stood in the hall to ask, “You originally said five thousand and two thousand taels. Now that Your Majesty wishes to buy, you refuse money—are you implying I rely on my throne to extort your objects? There is no justification. I will pay you your stated price and ask no evasion.” The Bodhisattva answered, “This poor monk made a vow earlier: if there is reverence for the Three Jewels, rejoicing in good and taking refuge in my Buddha, it should be given freely. Today I see the Son of Heaven’s clear virtue in promoting goodness and honoring my Buddha’s gate, and further a great monk of virtue and conduct spreading the Great Dharma. It is fitting to offer these; I will not take any payment. I only wish to keep this object and carry your message back.” Seeing her such earnest insistence, Taizong was very pleased. By his order, the Guanglu Temple prepared a grand vegetarian banquet in thanks. The Bodhisattva again firmly refused to accept gifts, left cheerfully, and once more withdrew to hide by the city-earth-god temple, with no further account given.

Then Taizong held the noon court and told Wei Zheng to carry his decree, announcing Master Xuanzang to court. That master, in the midst of an assembly of gathered monks, was lecturing and reciting verses; at once he heard the decree, stepped down from the platform, adjusted his robes, and went with Wei Zheng to see the emperor. Taizong said, “For seeking the true matter of virtue you have labored greatly, Master, and I owe you thanks without reward. This morning Chancellor Xiao Yu met two monks and offered to present a wondrous robe and a nine-hooped staff as a gift. Today I summon you to receive and use them.” Master Xuanzang bowed in thanks. Taizong said, “If the master does not reject this, please put it on so I may see.” The elder shook out the robe, placed it upon himself, held the staff in hand, and stood before the steps. Ministers and king alike all rejoiced. Truly he was a child of the Buddha. Look at him:

His face is severe yet refined, elegant and distinguished; the Buddha-robe seems cut and made for him. His radiance and beauty spread in vivid brilliance through the whole firmament; clustered dyes whirl and gather the universe into one sphere. Clear pearls gleam in rows above and below, layers of golden thread run through front and back. Around all four sides run brocade borders, and ten thousand marvels are spread in brocaded embroidery. The eight treasures knot flowered silk and binding cords; golden hoops fasten the collar with plush tassel clasps. In Buddha-heaven, the high and low stand ranked; celestial star-patterns show honor and status to left and right. Master Xuanzang has deep affinity; before him this object is fit to be accepted. He appears like a living Arhat from Sukhavati, surpassing even the western true-awakened brilliance. The staff rings and strikes against its nine rings; the Pīlù hat reflects abundant fullness. Truly he is no empty tale of a Buddha’s son; he surpasses Bodhi with no deceit.

At that moment, the ministers and generals before the stair shouted in acclaim. Taizong’s joy could not be contained, and he made the master wear the robe and take up the treasure staff; he also granted two squads of ceremonial attendants and instructed several officials to escort him out the palace gate, sending him into the streets to return to the monastery as if a top-degree examinee were being publicly honored. After Xuanzang bowed once more in thanks, on the Great Street there was loud booming and swaying commotion. Look at Changan city: merchants and traders, aristocratic youths and noble sons, poets and literati, men and women, boys and girls—all rushed to watch and praised. All exclaimed, “What a monk! Truly a living arhat has descended, a living bodhisattva has appeared among mortals.”

As soon as Tripitaka arrived at the temple, monks came out from their cells to receive him. At first glance at the cassock he wore and the staff he held, all said he looked like King Kṣitigarbha come in person, and each took refuge and attended him on either side. Tripitaka ascended the hall, offered incense, and paid homage to the Buddha. He then spoke to the assembly, expressing gratitude for holy kindness; all returned to their meditation seats. Before he knew it, the red wheel of the sun had set in the west. So it was then:

At sunset, haze veils the grass and trees, and in the imperial capital the bells and drums begin to ring. Three sharp strokes ring out and halt all passersby; before and behind, the streets grow still. The great temple glows with brilliant lamps, while the lonely villages are cold and soundless. The Chan monks enter samādhi and parse the remaining scripture; it is exactly the time to temper demons and nurture true nature.

Time passed as swiftly as fingers turning, yet seven days had truly arrived for the great assembly. Tripitaka again submitted a petition and asked Emperor Taizong to offer incense. At that time good tidings spread throughout the realm. Taizong at once mounted his carriage and, with many civil and military ministers, consorts, and imperial kinsmen, set out early for the temple. Every person in the city, high or low, noble or common, came to the temple to listen to the sermon.

A Bodhisattva and Mukcha said to each other: "Today is the Water-and-Land Great Assembly, one seven followed by seven-seven; this is sufficient. Let us mingle among the crowd. First, to see what this gathering is like; second, to see whether Golden Cicada can in good fortune wear my precious robe; third, to hear which gate of Dharma this monk is expounding." The two then slipped into the temple. It was a matter of old affinity to meet an old acquaintance; prajñā returned once more to its own hall. When they entered the temple and looked around, it was in truth:

The Great Tang is a mighty realm, surely surpassing Śāva. It rivals Jetavana and Śrāvastī, and is not inferior to the loftiest monasteries above. Through it sounded a host of celestial music, the Buddha’s name clamoring in exultation.

That Bodhisattva came as far as the Terrace of Treasures, and surely wore the aspect of Míngzhì Golden Cicada. A poem says:

All phenomena grew clear, free of the faintest dust; Tripitaka of the Great Canon sat upon the high platform. Souls wandering alone in the afterlife came unseen and drew near; hearing Dharma, they rose with the high current into this world. Give according to the needs of the moment, and far the way of mind becomes clear; births and deaths open by will through hidden gates. Facing the sermon, he spoke immeasurable Dharma, and old and young alike put down their anxiety in joy. Another poem says: Walking among the Dharma realms in this teaching hall, he met one of like kind, not coarse or ordinary. He spoke of ten thousand matters in the present world, and of great aeons with many merits as well. The cloud of Dharma spreads, draping the ranges of many mountains; a net of instruction is cast across the vast sky. He measured life and brought it back to good intent; the sky rained down, with red petals fluttering.

On the platform the monk chanted for a while from the Sutra on Sending Life and Delivering the Dead, spoke for a while on the Sutra of the Heavenly Treasure for Securing the Realm, and then proclaimed a session of the Treatise on Exhorting Practice. The Bodhisattva came near, struck the altar with his palm, and shouted in a fierce voice: "Monk, you only talk of the Hīnayāna teachings—can you speak on the Mahāyāna as well?" When Tripitaka heard this, he rejoiced inwardly, flipped from the platform and came down, joining his hands to the Bodhisattva: "Venerable sir, this disciple has many faults and has strayed far. The monks before me all speak of Hīnayāna, but I do not know how to speak of the Mahāyāna." The Bodhisattva replied: "Your Hīnayāna teachings cannot raise the dead beyond this life; they can only reconcile the coarse folk with a little light. I possess the Mahāyāna Buddha Scripture: it can elevate the dead to Heaven, deliver the distressed from suffering, cultivate a limitless Buddha-body of blissful life, and move without coming or going.

While the discourse was being given, the officer in charge of incense and hall inspection hurried in and reported to the Tang King: "The monk had just been expounding sublime Dharma when two leprous itinerant monks were pulling him down and speaking wild, idle words." The king ordered them seized. At once many men pushed the two monks into the rear hall. On seeing Taizong, those monks did not raise a hand in salute nor bow; looking up, they said: "What matter, Your Majesty, requires asking me?" Taizong recognized him and said, "Weren’t you the monk who brought the kasaya robe the other day?" The Bodhisattva said, "It was indeed I." Taizong asked, "Since you have come here to hear the sermon, it should be enough that you have taken a meal. Why then cause disorder with my monk, disturb the Dharma hall, and interfere with Buddha-business?" The Bodhisattva replied, "The monk you brought speaks only Hīnayāna teachings. Those cannot raise the dead to Heaven. I have the Great Vehicle Tripiṭaka, which can free the dead from suffering and make life-bodies indestructible." Taizong, with earnest joy, asked, "Where is this Great Vehicle Dharma you speak of?" The Bodhisattva answered, "In the Great Western Land of Tianzhu, at the Great Thunder-Sound Monastery of the Buddha, our Tathāgata is present; there one may untie a hundred knots of grievances and dispel groundless calamity." Taizong asked, "Do you remember it?" The Bodhisattva said, "I remember." Taizong, joyful, ordered, "Have the monk come up and take the platform to give a discourse."

That Bodhisattva took Mukcha with him, flew to the high platform, and stepped upon an auspicious cloud up to the ninth heaven, revealing his form in the realm of rescuing distress. In his hands he held a clear bottle and willow bough. To his left stood Mukcha Huì’ān, gripping a staff, gathering his spirit. In joy, Emperor Taizong bowed to heaven; all civil and military officials knelt and burned incense. In the whole temple, monks, nuns, laypeople, and commoners—no one failed to kneel and pray, saying, "Blessed Bodhisattva! Blessed Bodhisattva!" Some praised it as true proof. Then they saw:

Auspicious mist spread in many colors, and lucky light guarded the Dharma-body. In the flower-like heavens of the ninth sky, a true human form appeared. The Bodhisattva wore a crown bound with golden leaves, emerald blossoms, and dangling bead strings that cast gold light and auspicious vapor; a blue robe of brocaded plain weave, faintly hued with light patterns, showed dragons of gold and flying colored phoenixes. Across his chest hung a strand of ornamented beads shining to moonlight and clear wind, studded with mixed jewels and stacked green jade. About his waist was tied a silk skirt of woven-gold trim, patterned with rainbow clouds and rose-water waves, richly brocaded. In front he also held a white parrot with yellow plumage and red beak, fit to fly across the Eastern seas and roam all the world in grateful filial grace. In his hands he bore a treasure vessel of compassionate saving, in which was set a willow branch to sprinkle clear blue sky, scatter great evil, and sweep away leftover mists. A jade loop with embroidered fasteners, and golden lotus foundations beneath; he could enter and depart in three days. This was Guanyin, the one who saves the suffering and rescues from calamity. So delighted was Emperor Taizong that he forgot his realm and kingdom; the ministers and officers forgot even their courtly salutes. All the people chanted, "Namo Guanyin Bodhisattva." Taizong then issued an order, commanding the most skillful painter to copy the Bodhisattva’s true likeness. As one order was given, he selected Wu Daozi, famed as a divine painter, far-sighted and profoundly discerning, famed for painting figures (this was the man who later rendered meritorious works for the Linyan Pavilion). Wu Daozi immediately drew forth his brilliant brush and painted the true form. Guanyin’s auspicious cloud faded little by little; in an instant the golden radiance vanished. Only then a brief tablet drifted down from the sky with several clear verses written on it: Salute, Great Tang ruler: in the Western Regions is a wondrous text. The road is ten-thousand-and-eight-thousand li; the Great Vehicle advances with deepest earnestness. Return this scripture to the capital, and it can raise spirits above the crowd of ghosts. Whoever is willing to go, seeking perfect fruit and a golden body. When Taizong saw the verse, he ordered all monks: "Hold the assembly until I send men to obtain the Great Vehicle text; then, with one-pointed sincerity, let us once more complete this blessed endeavor." All officials obeyed. At that time in the temple he asked, "Who is willing to take my command and go to the Western Heaven, salute Buddha, and seek the sūtra?" No one answered. Beside him the monk flashed forth, and before the emperor he bowed and said: "My poor monk is unworthy and unskilled, yet I am willing to serve like a horse or dog, going to the west for Your Majesty to obtain the true scripture and pray to keep the king’s realm secure forever." Taizong rejoiced greatly and came forward, lifting him by the hand: "If you can fulfill such loyal service despite the long distance, the crossing of mountains and rivers, then I am willing to take you as my brother." Tripitaka knelt and thanked the favor. Taizong was indeed of such virtue: he went to the Buddha in the temple and with Tripitaka made four prostrations, calling him, "Imperial brother, holy monk." Tripitaka, full of thanks, said: "Your Majesty, what merit or ability have I to deserve this favor of Heaven? On this journey I will give my body and all strength to the end and go straight to the Western Heaven. If I fail to reach the Western Heaven and obtain the true scripture, I will not dare return to the state, even for death; I would then fall forever into the nether pit of hell." He then offered incense before the Buddha as oath. Taizong was delighted, ordered everyone to return to the palace, and when an auspicious date was chosen, issued the imperial edict to go forth. Then the whole party dispersed.

Tripitaka also returned to Hongfu Temple. Most of the monks there and several disciples had heard of the mission to fetch the scripture and came to meet him, asking, "Is it true you have sworn to go to the Western Heaven?" Tripitaka said, "It is true." One disciple said, "Master, we have heard from others that the road to the Western Heaven is far, and there are still many tigers and leopards of demons. We fear no return and hardly can preserve your life." Tripitaka said, "I have taken a vast and solemn vow in this incense-offering; without obtaining the true scripture, I would forever sink in hell. In effect, receiving the king’s favor, I cannot but render loyal service to repay the realm. My going is truly to a remote and boundless distance; how lucky or unlucky may be, none can know." He added, "My disciples, after I leave, whether in two or three years, or five or seven, when you see the pine bough at the gate of the mountain monastery turn eastward, then I will return; if not, I shall never come back." All the disciples took these words to heart and remembered them closely.

At first light, Taizong held audience, gathering ministers and generals; he had the writ authorizing the journey for scripture-collecting written and sealed with the seal of passage. The Chief Astronomer then submitted that today was the Auspicious Star favored for embarking on a distant road. The Tang king was overjoyed. He then saw a report from a Yellow-Gate official: 'Your Brother, the monk, waits outside the gate for your order.' He immediately announced in the Treasure Hall: 'Your Brother, today is an auspicious day to set out. This is the pass-credential for passage. I also give you a purple-gold bowl to use for vegetarian offerings on the road. Choose two attendants fit for a long journey. I also confer a horse upon you to help sustain your travel. You may now proceed on this expedition.' Xuan Zang was deeply glad, thanked the favor, received the gifts, and had no wish to delay. Taizong arranged his carriage and, with many officials, sent him off beyond the pass. The monks and disciples of Hongfu Monastery had already prepared and presented his winter and summer robes outside the pass. When the Tang king saw this, he first ordered his baggage and horse to be packed, then instructed an attendant to pour wine. Taizong raised the cup and asked, 'What distinguished monastic name shall Your Brother take?' Xuan Zang replied, 'This poor monk is ordained and does not dare to choose a title.' Taizong said, 'The bodhisattva once foretold that in the Western Heaven are the Tripitaka. Your Brother may take your title from that canon and be called Tripitaka. What do you think of that?' Xuan Zang again thanked him, accepted the imperial wine, and said, 'Your Majesty, wine is the first precept of a monk; as a humble monk I do not drink.' Taizong said, 'This departure is not the same as other affairs. This is simple, plain wine; drink only this one cup to accept the full intent of my farewell.' Tripitaka could not disobey. He took the cup, and just as he was about to drink, Taizong lowered his head, picked up a pinch of dust with his imperial finger, and tossed it into the wine. Xuan Zang did not understand the meaning. Taizong laughed, 'Your Brother, once you go now to the Western Heaven, when can you return?' Xuan Zang answered, 'In just three years, I will return straight back to the capital.' Taizong replied, 'Time will pass and years grow deep; the mountains are remote, the roads long. As you drink, remember this: better to cherish a pinch of soil from your native land than thousands of taels of gold in a foreign country.' Xuan Zang then understood the meaning of the pinch of soil, thanked the emperor again, drank the cup to the end, and took leave to leave the pass. The Tang king rode back.

In the end we still do not know what is to come as he goes; listen to the next chapter for the resolution.