Meanwhile, Guangzhi descended the mountain and entered the town below, where he hired someone to write a petition and beat the drum for redressing grievances.
The county magistrate convened court and asked:
"Little monk, what grievance have you suffered?"
Guangzhi cried out for justice:
"Your Honor, upright as the clear heavens, this humble monk belongs to the Guanyin Monastery on the mountain outside town. My Dharma name is Guangzhi. The other day, our abbot kindly took in two traveling monks. Who could have known that, seeing our monastery's wealth, they would harbor evil intentions? They set fire to it in the night, burned it down, and stole the wealth our monastery had accumulated over a hundred years!"
The magistrate raised his brows and hurriedly asked:
"Do you mean Elder Jinchi's Guanyin Monastery?"
The Guanyin Monastery was renowned for a hundred miles around; even the magistrate had heard of it.
Guangzhi bobbed his head like a pestle pounding garlic. "Exactly, exactly!"
The magistrate said, "Have you brought a written petition?"
Guangzhi handed over the petition.
After reading it and seeing the words "wealth accumulated over a hundred years," the magistrate could not help asking:
"How much wealth did your monastery possess?"
Guangzhi answered truthfully, "A hundred years' accumulation, countless gold and silver-this humble monk does not know the precise amount. I only know there were over a hundred chests of fine silver, a dozen or so chests of gold ingots, three large chests of jade and jewels, and a bundle each of white elephant tusks and rhinoceros horns."
The magistrate's eyes glazed over at this, and greed immediately stirred in his heart. "What audacious thieving monks! Guards, arrest them at once!"
He immediately tossed down an order tally and dispatched both squads of court runners to make the arrests.
But the Guanyin Monastery was some distance from town, and the runners were mere mortals, so they failed to reach it that night.
The next day, after eating a vegetarian meal served by the monks, Tang Sanzang called to Sun Wukong, intending to resume their journey.
To stall for time, Guangmou brought out some of the monastery's gold and silver, saying he wished to give it to Tang Sanzang.
Tang Sanzang refused to accept it.
While they were arguing back and forth, Guangzhi arrived with the court runners.
Guangzhi pointed at Tang Sanzang and Sun Wukong. "Those are the two thieving monks!"
At this, the runners advanced, spread out into a ring, and surrounded master and disciple. "You thieving monks! Now we've caught you with the stolen goods!"
They swarmed forward, first dragging Tang Sanzang off his horse and binding him with rope. Then they tried to bind Sun Wukong, but he would never submit. Drawing his Golden Cudgel, he demanded, "Who are you calling a thief?" He was about to teach these runners a lesson.
Seeing this, Tang Sanzang feared that Sun Wukong would hurt someone and hurriedly said, "Wukong, do not strike. These runners have arrested us by mistake. Once we reach the court, your master will explain everything. You must not hurt anyone! Otherwise, I shall certainly recite the Tightening Spell!"
Afraid that Tang Sanzang really would recite the Tightening Spell, Sun Wukong could only submit to arrest.
After binding Sun Wukong and Tang Sanzang, the runners had Guangzhi and Guangmou carry out the monastery's treasures. Just as Guangzhi had said, there were over a hundred chests of gold and silver-not a single chest missing, and even somewhat more than he had reported.
The runners were beside themselves with joy. "These are all stolen goods!" They prepared to carry all the silver back to the county office.
But there was too much silver and too few men to move it all at once. Afraid something might happen to it if they left, they could only remain to guard it while sending someone back to notify the magistrate and request more men to transport the silver.
All this back-and-forth took four or five days.
By the time master and disciple were brought before the court, the progress in Ao Tu's system had already reached the ninth day.
Once in court, Tang Sanzang naturally protested his innocence and explained the entire sequence of events, making a well-reasoned case supported by the facts.
Yet the magistrate was unwilling to release the pair. There was a great deal of confiscated silver, and he wanted a share for himself. Only by turning this into an ironclad case could he conveniently dip his hand into it.
The magistrate therefore ordered torture, intending to beat a confession out of Tang Sanzang.
Sun Wukong cast a spell and took the punishment in Tang Sanzang's place.
With his bronze head, iron skull, and indestructible body, neither squeezing boards, clubs, nor a bed of iron needles had any effect.
Helpless, the magistrate could only remand master and disciple to prison for the time being.
That night, Sun Wukong transformed into a tiny insect, flew out of the prison, and landed in the magistrate's home. Disguising himself as the Night-Roaming God, he gave the magistrate a fright, saying that Tang Sanzang was a disciple of the Buddha from the Western Heaven and a holy monk from the Eastern Land. He must release him at once, or the gods would punish him and the entire town would know no peace.
Having said this, he conjured a huge foot out of thin air and brought it down, stamping a pit three feet and three inches deep into the ground. The sight frightened the magistrate's soul out of his body. How could he dare disobey?
Sun Wukong departed with a laugh.
At this point, the progress in Ao Tu's system stood at nine days. Even tomorrow would only make ten, leaving him five days short of the reward for holding them back for half a month.
But Ao Tu was not worried. He had a plan of his own.
A little while after Sun Wukong left, Ao Tu entered the magistrate's home in Ananda's form.
Having just been terrified by Sun Wukong, the magistrate now saw Ao Tu descend in this guise and immediately began bowing and kowtowing without pause, blurting out, "Buddha, Bodhisattva, this humble official knows his mistake! I know my mistake! I shall release the holy monk at once. I shall never dare do it again!"
Ao Tu said, "I am Venerable Ananda, who serves beneath the Tathagata Buddha of the Western Heaven. The Buddha says you tortured the scripture-seeking disciple of the Buddha in your prison, disturbing the gods throughout the Three Realms. He has sent me to take you down to Avici Hell, where you shall suffer the punishment of rolling over blades and frying in boiling oil."
The magistrate asked shakily, "Venerable sir, wh-what is this punishment of rolling over blades and frying in boiling oil?"
Ao Tu said, "A person is rolled over blades until his flesh is sliced into strips that hang from his body, then placed in a cauldron of oil to fry."
Hearing this, the magistrate was frightened out of his wits and even wet himself. He kowtowed incessantly, saying:
"This humble official knows his mistake! I know my mistake and shall never dare do it again! Please show mercy, Venerable One, show mercy! If you save my life, I shall mobilize the entire town to build you a temple and offer worship day and night, never daring to neglect you in the slightest!"
Ao Tu laughed inwardly. He had not expected the magistrate to be so timid. Originally, he had only intended to delay them for five days, but seeing this, he decided to demand more. Those extra days would not go to waste anyway; if they fell short of thirty days, they could still count toward the next ordeal.
Ao Tu said, "Very well. Seeing your sincerity, I shall give you a chance to turn over a new leaf."
Overjoyed at these words, the magistrate hurriedly bowed his head to listen.
Ao Tu said:
"Out of greed, you tortured the holy monk seeking the scriptures and committed boundless sins. You should suffer thirty-three years of punishment in Avici Hell before those sins can be expunged. But seeing your sincere repentance, I shall give you a way to reform.
Use your own money to set up a thousand tables for a continuous feast in town, and invite that holy monk of the Tang to perform rites for thirty-three days, delivering departed souls and bringing salvation to the common people.
For every day you have the holy monk perform rites and hold the feast, one year's worth of sins will be erased. After the full thirty-three days, all your sins will be expunged. Do you understand?"
The magistrate hurriedly kowtowed. "I understand, I understand."
Ao Tu added, "I have no desires and seek nothing
from you, not even your incense offerings. If you truly build a temple to worship me and I learn of it, I shall cast you into boundless hell, never to be reborn for all eternity."
Hearing this, the magistrate became even more convinced of Ao Tu's identity. He hastily assented and promised not to build a temple.
Ao Tu concealed his form, giving one last warning before leaving:
"Remember, you must not speak of this to anyone. If you divulge Heaven's secrets, it will no longer work."
The magistrate kowtowed again. "Yes, yes, yes. This humble official understands."
Before you continue