Monkey walked slowly out of the inner palace, by when the eunuchs watching him had already given the news to everyone. When Monkey emerged a moment later the Tang Priest asked him how it had gone. “I made a diagnosis from his pulses,” Monkey said. “I now have to prepare the medicine for his condition.”
All the officials then came forward to ask, “Holy monk, reverend sir, what is the 'pair of birds parted' condition of which you spoke just now?”
“It's when a cock bird and a hen who were flying together are suddenly separated by a violent storm,” replied Monkey with a smile. “The hen misses the cock and the cock misses the hen. Isn't that 'a pair of birds parted?'“ At this the officials all cried out over and over again in admiration. “He really is a holy monk! He really is a divine doctor!”
“You have diagnosed the condition,” said one of the fellows of the Royal College of Medicine, “but what drugs will you use to treat it?”
“There's no need to stick to prescriptions,” said Monkey. “I'll choose the drugs when I see them.”
“According to the medical classic, “There are 808 varieties of medicine and 404 varieties of sickness,'“ said the fellows of the Royal College of Medicine. “How can it be right to use all the medicines when one person does not have all the ailments? You can't just choose your drugs on sight.”
To this Monkey replied, “The ancients said, 'In preparing medicines do not stick rigidly to the formulae; use them as appropriate.' That's why I've asked for the full range of pharmaceutical materials so that I can make adjustments as I need to.”
The fellows of the Royal College could say no more to this, but went out through the palace gates and sent those of the college's staff who were on duty to tell all the pharmacies in the city, whether selling raw materials or prepared drugs, to send three pounds of each to Monkey.
“This is no place for preparing medicine,” said Monkey. “All the medicines and a set of pharmacist's utensils must be sent to the Hostel of Meeting and handed over to my two fellow disciples.” The fellows did as they were told. Three pounds of each of the 808 ingredients of medicine together with pharmacist's rollers, hand-mills, sieves, mortars, bowls, pestles and the like were all sent to the hostel, handed over and received.
Monkey went back into the throne hall and asked his master to return to the hostel with him while he prepared the medicine. Sanzang was just getting up to go when the king sent a command from the inner quarters that the Master of the Law was to stay behind and spend the night in the Hall of Literary Splendor; the next morning, after taking the medicine and recovering from his illness, the king would reward them, inspect the passport and send them on their way. Sanzang was horrified.
“Disciple,” he said, “he means to keep me here as a hostage. If he is cured he will be happy to send us on our way, but if the treatment fails my life is over. You must be very careful and pay full attention when preparing the medicine.”
“Don't worry, Master,” Monkey said with a smile, “Enjoy yourself here. I'm a superb doctor.”
Taking his leave of Sanzang and of all the officials the splendid Great Sage went straight back to the hostel where Pig welcomed him with a grin. “Brother,” he said, “I know what you're up to.”
“What?” Monkey asked.
“If fetching the scriptures doesn't come off you'll be left without any capital to start up a business.” Pig replied. “Now you've seen how prosperous this place is you're planning to open a chemist's shop here.”
“Don't talk nonsense,” shouted Monkey. “When I've cured the king I'll use my success to leave the court and be on our way. I'm not going to be running a chemist's.”
“Well,” said Pig, “if you're not opening a shop, why get three pounds of each of 808 different ingredients to treat one man? How much of it will you need? How many years will it take for him to finish the lot?”
“He'll never finish that much,” Monkey replied. “The fellows of their Royal College of Medicine are a load of idiots. The only reason why I sent for so many ingredients was to baffle them and stop them knowing which ones I'm going to use. Then they won't be able to find out what my miraculous prescription is.”
As they were talking two of the hostel staff came in and fell to their knees before them to say, “We beg the holy monks and reverend gentlemen to partake of their evening repast.”
“This morning you treated us rather differently,” said Monkey, “so why go on your knees to invite us now?”
“When you first came, my lords,” the hostel orderlies replied, “we were too blind to recognize your illustrious faces. Now we have heard how you are using your outstanding medical powers to treat our king. If His Majesty recovers his health he will share the kingdom with you, so we'll all be your subjects. So it's only proper for us to kowtow to you and to invite you politely to eat.” On hearing this Monkey cheerfully took the place of honour while Pig and Friar Sand sat to his left and right.
As the vegetarian meal was served Friar Sand asked, “Where's our master, brother?”
“The king's kept him as a hostage,” Monkey replied. “When the king's cured he'll regard us and send us on our way.”
“Is he being well looked after?” Friar Sand continued.
“His host's a king,” Monkey replied, “so of course he's in luxury. When I went there he had three senior ministers looking after him and he was invited into the Hall of Literary Splendor.”
“In that case,” said Pig, “the master's still doing much better than us. He's got ministers looking after him, and we've only got a couple of hostel orderlies to serve us. So I'm going to forget about him and eat a good meal.” Thus the three of them enjoyed their meal at ease.
It was now late. “Tidy the dishes away,” Monkey said to the hostel orderlies, “and fetch me plenty of oil and candles. The best time for us to make up the medicine will be in the quiet of the night.”
The orderlies brought oil and candles as instructed and were then dismissed. In the still silence of the middle of the night Pig asked, “Brother, what, medicines are we going to make? Let's get on with it. I need my shut-eye.”
“Get an ounce of rhubarb and grind it to a fine powder with a roller,” said Brother Monkey.
“Rhubarb has a bitter taste and a cold nature and isn't noxious,” said Friar Sand. “Its nature is deep, not superficial; it's an active medicine, not a defensive one. It removes stagnations and clears obstructions, settles disorder, and brings about peace, and they call it 'the general'. It's a cathartic drug. But perhaps it's wrong for someone in an empty, weakened state after a long illness.”
“There's something you don't know, brother,” Monkey said. “This drug helps phlegm, makes the vital forces travel smoothly, and calms the heat and cold that become congested in the stomach. Just leave me alone and fetch me an ounce of croton seeds. Shell them, peel them, hammer the poisonous oil out of them, then grind them to a fine powder with a roller.”
“Croton seed is acrid, hot by nature and poisonous,” said Pig. “It cuts away hard accumulations, deals with submerged cold in the lungs and bowels, and clears obstructions. It smooths the way for water and grain. It's a warrior for storming passes and gates. You must be very careful how you use it.”
“Brother,” Monkey replied, “what you don't understand is that this is a drug that destroys knots, opens the intestine and can cure swelling of the heart and dropsy. Hurry up and get it ready. And I'll want an adjuvant to back it up.”
The two of them started work on grinding the two drugs to a fine powder. “You'll need dozens more, brother,” they said, “so which'll they be?”
“That's all,” Monkey replied.
“But you've got three pounds of each of 808 different medicinal ingredients,” Pig said. “If all you're going to use is two ounces you've been making a fool of these people.”