Volume 2: The Path That Can Be Told, Chapter 192: Li Shimin

Meanwhile, Wukong was extremely anxious, yet unable to escape his prison, leaving him utterly disheartened. He naturally knew that once Buddha took action, the Heavenly Court and the Three Pure Ones could not remain indifferent. He also suspected that many forces were gearing up to profit from the situation. Buddhism and Taoism were the two major religions in the world, with profound implications for fate, and for those who straddled between them, choosing the right side was of utmost importance. Recall in “Journey to the West” — after Buddha took Wukong under his wing, not only did reclusive immortals like the Barefoot Immortal offer him pears and dates as tribute, but even the God of Longevity in the South Pole presented him with precious lotus pills. Setting aside the value of these gifts, such actions were merely expressions of loyalty.

The quest for the scriptures seemed monotonous on the surface, with trials and demons posing obstacles, but behind them lay numerous hidden struggles among various forces. The book “Journey to the West” is titled “The Legend of Relieving Calamities.” On the surface, it depicts a journey to the West by crane to overcome hardships, but interpreted otherwise, it represents the spread of Buddhism in the Eastern lands, with Buddhism ultimately triumphing over Taoism. All these subtleties lay along the journey westward.

By coming to this world, he had changed the balance of power among the forces in the universe and exposed many hidden figures. He wondered what impact this would have on the quest to the West.

Qitian Ridge was originally the Flaming Mountain, a necessary route on the journey to the West — a challenge that would likely be extremely difficult. If he were part of the questing party, whether they could pass depended solely on him. The Three Pure Ones were now much stronger; he wondered how many more obstacles they would add to the quest. Likely, only more, not less.

At this moment, he didn’t know what plans the Three Pure Ones had or whether they had even thought of rescuing him. Thinking of them, Wukong remembered a question Laojun had once asked him: “What is your true ambition?” His answer back then had been, “To preserve one’s true heart and help others do the same.” Now, reflecting on it, that was indeed his sincere belief.

True heart? These two words flashed through Wukong’s mind like a light in a pitch-black night. To escape, he had tried every kind of magic, except this one.

Back in his original world, by chance, he had acquired a second form — that of a scholar in white. His original self was his true heart, and since he had two true hearts, he could assume two forms under any circumstances. Buddha had subdued the Creative Divine Ape version of himself; he wondered if the other form could still move.

Success or failure, he might as well give it a try. With a shift in his mind, the divine ape lying on the ground transformed into a scholar in white. Sure enough, it worked—the Five Elements Mountain couldn’t withstand this transformation trick! No, this wasn’t some magic spell; it was the power of the mind. Where there’s will, there’s a way. Perhaps no force in the world could stop the will.

Wukong used his scholar disguise to carefully cast a distraction spell, and indeed, there was no obstruction. Overjoyed, he leaped upward—there stood a scholar in white on the ground, while the intelligent divine ape remained lying beneath the Five Elements Mountain!

Wukong regretted not thinking of this method earlier. He had wasted decades in vain, but fortunately, it seemed nothing major had been delayed.

At that moment, a loud voice came from behind: “Hey! Who is that scholar?”

Hearing this, Wukong smiled bitterly—it was Kang Anyu.

Kang Anyu had been ordered by Yang Jian to watch over Wukong here. In just a moment of distraction, he saw a scholar standing in front of Wukong, standing there blankly, unsure of what to do. He was terrified—if anything went wrong with Wukong, Yang Jian would surely blame him.

Wukong had no intention of entangling with Kang Anyu. With a leap, he soared into the clouds and disappeared into the distance. Kang Anyu scratched his head, thinking the scholar must be an old friend of Wukong’s who came to visit.

Now free again, though his cultivation was only half of what it used to be, Wukong was content. Free from constraints, he soared at will, with layers of clouds drifting by. It had been a long time since he’d felt this way.

But this wasn’t the time for relaxation. Wukong hurriedly flew to Qitian Ridge and secretly found Dayu. His escape had caused a tremendous stir, but he couldn’t reveal it to anyone.

When Dayu saw Wukong, he was naturally shocked. Wukong didn’t explain the reasons, only telling him not to tell anyone else. He came to see Dayu because he had an idea—Guanyin was on her way eastward, having already taken Sha Wujing, Zhu Bajie, and Wukong along the way. Wukong wanted to determine whether this was coincidence or premeditation.

Dayu had many ancient mythical beasts under his command, each stronger than the Messenger of Hui’an. Wukong wanted someone to block Guanyin’s path to see if Guanyin would try to subdue them.

If it succeeded, those beasts could assist in the pilgrimage. If not, it wouldn’t matter—it would prove Guanyin acted out of bias. The worst outcome… was probably being trapped by Guanyin and taken to the South Sea.

When Dayu heard Wukong wanted to borrow someone, he agreed immediately, saying, “Though there’s some risk, I’ll follow secretly.” Hearing this, Wukong felt relieved. Dayu might not be able to defeat those traps, but he could probably stop Guanyin from acting. After settling this matter, Wukong quickly bid farewell and flew straight toward the Abyss of Nine Netherworlds.

Li Shimin, oh Li Shimin, I hope you are still here.
Wukong took the old path into the netherworld, using invisibility magic to move cautiously forward.
After walking for a while, he saw a Grand Marshal of the netherworld holding a soul-guiding banner, leading the way ahead, with a judge following behind, supporting a man of great dignity. Wukong guessed that this man must be the one he was looking for.
The two escorted the man out of the judicial halls and circled behind the Hall of the Wheel King in the tenth palace. The man asked, “Is this the wrong path?”
The judge replied, “No, it’s correct. It’s always like this in the netherworld—there’s a way to go, but no way back. We are now bringing Your Majesty out of the Wheel of Reincarnation, first to show him around the netherworld, and second to help him seek rebirth.”
Hearing the judge address him as “Your Majesty,” Wukong realized that this man must indeed be Li Shimin.
On the day Wukong came to the netherworld, he had explored it thoroughly, but thanks to his swift movements, he hadn’t examined it as carefully as the Tang king. A few miles ahead, he suddenly saw a towering mountain, with dark clouds hanging low and thick mist filling the air. The Tang king asked, “Mr. Cui, what mountain is that?” Wukong realized that this must be the famous Judge Cui.
Judge Cui replied, “This is the Backshadow Mountain of the netherworld. Your Majesty, though this mountain seems dangerous, with us guiding you, there’s no need to worry.” Indeed, both the kings of the human world and the ghosts of the underworld—even the judge and Li Shimin—addressed each other as “subjects,” with the same respectful attitude as they did toward the ten kings of hell.
The Tang king followed the two, trembling, up the rocky mountain, with Wukong closely behind. The mountain was rugged and steep, as dangerous as the mountains of Shu—far from being a famous mountain of the human world, but rather a perilous place in the netherworld. Thorns and brambles hid ghosts and monsters, while rocky cliffs concealed evil spirits.
There were peaks, ridges, caves, and streams on the mountain—but no grass on the mountains, no peaks reaching the sky, no ridges for travelers, no caves to hold clouds, and no streams flowing. It was full of demons, spirits, and evil souls.
After crossing the Backshadow Mountain, they continued forward and passed through many horrible prisons, where cries of sorrow and screams of monsters could be heard everywhere. The Tang king asked anxiously, “Where is this?” The judge replied, “Behind the Backshadow Mountain lie eighteen layers of hell.” The Tang king asked, “Another eighteen layers?” The judge said, “One suffers the consequences of their actions in life; after death, they face punishment. Prisons like Fengdu Prison, Tongue-Pulling Prison, Skin-Peeling Prison, Car- Crushing Prison, Intestine-Extraction Prison… are all designed for those who commit extreme evils. Only after going through these eighteen hells can one be reborn. One should never deceive oneself in life—gods and spirits see everything; who can they spare? Good and evil will eventually be rewarded, only the timing may differ.”

After advancing a short distance, a group of ghostly soldiers knelt by the road and said, “The messenger of the bridge has come to take you.” The judge ordered them to retreat, and he led Emperor Taizong across the Golden Bridge. The judge said, “Your Majesty, this bridge is called the Bridge of Regret. Ordinary people, upon dying and crossing this bridge, drink the soup of Meng Po and are reborn. Your Majesty need not be reborn; instead, you must walk a few more steps and jump into the Wei River to live again.”

After crossing the evil waters of the River of Regret and the realm of suffering, the Tang Emperor did not enter the main gate at the end of the bridge but turned left toward the City of Unjust Deaths.

Inside the City of Unjust Deaths, countless people were shouting, “Li Shimin is here! Li Shimin, give me back my life!” Hearing this, the Tang Emperor was terrified. Seeing a group of ghosts with broken limbs and headsless bodies blocking the way, he quickly hid behind the judge, crying, “Mr. Cui, save me!” The judge ordered the ghosts away and said, “Your Majesty, those people were rebels and bandits during the end of the Sui Dynasty. They died unjustly, with no one to care for them, so they cannot be freed from their suffering and thus haunt people here.”

Taizong asked, “Their cries are scaring me. How can I help them be freed?” The judge replied, “Your Majesty, it’s simple. You just need to hold a water and land ceremony in the mortal world to free these evil souls, and they will stop causing trouble.”

The Tang Emperor said, “A water and land ceremony? That’s easy. I can find some Taoist priests.” The judge laughed and said, “Your Majesty, you’re joking. Water and land ceremonies are only effective for Buddhism; Taoism is not as effective.” Hearing this, Wukong became curious. This judge must have received some favor and was now speaking on behalf of Buddhism. Both Buddhism and Taoism practice soul liberation—how could there be a distinction between them? Although the netherworld is under the control of heaven, it seems Buddhism also has its supporters here.

When the Tang Emperor heard that Taoism was less effective, he said, “I need to think this over carefully.” Wukong noticed that the judge frowned slightly, clearly displeased. Meanwhile, the Grand Marshal ahead pretended not to hear anything, acting as if it had nothing to do with him.

Moving forward, they passed the place of the six realms of reincarnation. Here, they came around to behind six more Bridges of Regret. Monks, nuns, laypeople, animals, birds, and various demons all rushed along the paths of reincarnation, each going their own way.

Further ahead was the Wei River, with turbulent waves. There was another large gate inscribed with the words “The Noble Path to Liberation.” Judge Cui said, “Your Majesty, we’re almost at the place to return to the mortal world. I must take my leave first. The rest of the journey will be escorted by Grand Marshal Zhu.”

The Tang Emperor thanked him, “Thank you for coming such a long way.” The judge bowed in return and floated back along the same path. Wukong was puzzled. Judge Cui advised the Tang Emperor to hold a Buddhist water and land ceremony, but the emperor hadn’t agreed. So why did the judge leave on his own?

Grand Marshal Zhu led King Tang into the path of saving souls through Buddhist rituals. After walking for a while, they arrived by the Wei River. Grand Marshal Zhu said, “Your Majesty, once you return to the mortal world, be sure to hold a grand water and land ceremony in Buddhism to save those soulless victims. Do not forget this. Only when there are no complaints from the underworld can the world enjoy peace. I guarantee your descendants will thrive and your kingdom will endure forever.”

King Tang smiled bitterly and said, “A grand water and land ceremony is indeed necessary, but I have always held Taoism in high esteem. How about using Taoist methods to perform such ceremonies several times?”

Grand Marshal Zhu’s expression turned unfriendly. “Though I am in the underworld, I occasionally hear about matters in the mortal world. Buddhism has flourished for many dynasties, promoting goodness and suppressing evil, and assisting the state—what’s wrong with that? The Buddha is a sage.”

Wukong immediately understood that Cui the Judge had to return due to his duties, leaving Grand Marshal Zhu as the Buddhist advocate who must persuade Li Shimin to hold a Buddhist ceremony to complete everything. It seemed like a simple matter of stubbornness, but it was actually closely linked to the quest for the scriptures. From Buddha sending people to the Eastern Land to seek the scriptures, to the Dragon King of the Jing River being killed by Wei Zheng, to Li Shimin being plagued by nightmares night after night, then his descent into the underworld, the horrors of hell, and the persuasive words of the judges—all these elements were intricately connected, flawlessly seamless.

As the King of Tang, Li Shimin was a warrior who had risen through battle, ruling over vast lands. He had his own principles that could not be violated. He valued his kingdom and knew that Taoism was ideal for maintaining a ruler’s rule. Taoism emphasized loyalty to parents and rulers, while Buddhism required one to abandon family to become a monk and even dare to defy the emperor. Grand Marshal Zhu’s words might have made sense to others, but they sounded harsh to Li Shimin. He retorted, “Your Majesty is mistaken. In my view, life, death, longevity, and shortness of life are determined by nature, while punishment, virtue, power, and fortune depend on the ruler. Buddhism is a practice from the Western Regions; it lacks concepts of ruler and subject, father and son. It uses the three realms and six paths to deceive ordinary people. I really don’t agree with it.”

Grand Marshal Zhu smiled darkly and said, “Your Majesty has just witnessed the horrors of hell yet still dares to speak like this. Truly, an emperor fears nothing.”

Li Shimin replied, “Hell isn’t something unique to Buddhism either.”

Grand Marshal Zhu was furious. He had done so much groundwork, only to find Li Shimin so stubborn. If things continued like this, all his efforts would be in vain. So he said, “This shows that hell was created just for people like you!”

Li Shimin wasn’t annoyed. He smiled and said, “If I really went to hell, what good would fear be? My Eastern Land has its own ways. If I held a Buddhist water and land ceremony to invite invaders into my land, wouldn’t that be like inviting wolves into my house?”

Hou Kong was overjoyed upon hearing this. Li Shimin was truly an extraordinary man. Though he was unaware of Buddha sending someone to spread the scriptures, he still grasped the essence of it at once—truly worthy of being called an emperor through the ages. Yet with such resistance to Buddhism in Li Shimin’s heart, how could he hold a grand water and land ceremony after returning to life? Wouldn’t the quest for the scriptures become a mere illusion?

Just then, Grand Marshal Zhu tried to persuade him again, but Li Shimin waved his hand and said, “Grand Marshal, don’t delay our departure.”

Grand Marshal Zhu’s expression turned grim. He knew that if he failed in this task, he wouldn’t know what kind of punishment he would face from that person—probably one that would cost him his life. But he also dared not do anything to Li Shimin, as the King of Hell had ordered him to take care of the Tang King. With no choice, he led Li Shimin to the banks of the Wei River, thinking, “I’ll deal with the King of Hell first. This Tang King is stubborn as stone—what can I do?”

Li Shimin saw a huge golden two-headed carp leaping and thrashing in the river and became utterly fascinated. Hou Kong also noticed the golden carp and found it strange—how could such a creature exist in the river of the netherworld?

Suddenly, Grand Marshal Zhu shouted, “Your Majesty, hurry back to the mortal world before it’s too late.” He pushed Li Shimin into the Wei River.

Logically, by entering this river, Li Shimin in the mortal world should have been revived. But Hou Kong, standing on the shore, was even more puzzled. As soon as the Tang King entered the river, the golden carp stopped leaping as before and simply floated motionless on the surface, as if it were new to this place.