Just as he was debating all this with himself he noticed a big crowd of Buddhist monks on a sandbank outside the city gates, pulling a cart. The noise that had startle Sanzang was them all shouting. “King Powerful Bodhisattva.”
When he slowly lowered his cloud for a better look he saw that the cart was loaded with kiln bricks, tiles, wood and adobe bricks. Above the sandbank was a high ridge, along the top of which ran a narrow track between two great gates. Below the gates the paths all went straight down the steep sides of the ridge: the cart could not possibly be pulled up there. Although the weather was so mild and pleasant the monks were all dressed in rags and looked thoroughly poverty-stricken.
“I suppose they must be building a monastery,” thought Monkey, “and are having to do the work themselves because it's harvest-time here and they can't hire any labor.” He was still not sure when he saw two young Taoist priests come swaggering out through the city gates. Just see how they were dressed:
Star crowns on their heads,
Brocade and embroidered clothes.
The star crowns on their heads shine bright,
The brocade and embroidered clothes float like sunset clouds.
On their feet are cloud-treading shoes,
Round their waists are silken belts.
Handsome and clever faces, round as the moon;
Bodies as elegant as the immortals in Heaven.
The approach of the Taoists made the Buddhist monks all shake with fear as they redoubled their efforts and pulled harder than ever at the cart.
“Ah!” thought Monkey as he realized what was up. “The monks must be scared of the Taoists. Why else would they be pulling so hard? I've heard people tell of a place on the way to the West where they believe in Taoism and persecute Buddhist monks. This must be it. I was going to report back to the master, but he'll be angry with me if I don't discover what it's all about. He'll say that a clever chap like me ought to be able to find out the truth. I'll go down and ask what's happening so I can tell the master.”
But whom was he to ask? The splendid Great Sage shook himself and turned into the likeness of a wandering Quanzhen Taoist with a food basket over his left arm as he beat on a bamboo drum and sang Taoist songs. Monkey walked towards the city gates and bowed in greeting to the two Taoists, saying, “Humble greetings, elders in the Way.”
“Where are you from, sir?” the Taoists asked, returning his greeting.
“I wander and roam from the corners of the sea to the edge of the sky,” Monkey replied. “I am here today to beg from some pious household. Could you two elders tell me which streets and which alleys in this city love the Way and its followers? I would like to beg for some food.”
“What a depressing way to talk, sir,” said one of the Taoist priests with a laugh.
“What's so depressing about it?” Monkey asked.
“Isn't it depressing that you want to beg for food?” asked the priest.
“But we men of religion have to live by begging,” said Brother Monkey. If we don't, we can't buy our food.”
The Taoist priest laughed again and replied, “You're a stranger here and you don't know about our city. Here it's not just the civil and military officials, the rich and the elderly who love the Way and its followers. Young and old, men and women alike, everyone offers us food when they see us. But all that is hardly worth mentioning. By far the most important thing is that His Majesty the king is a devout lover of the Way and its followers.”
“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.”