Time flew like an arrow; the seasons passed back and forth like a weaver’s shuttle. The dog days of summer gave way to the first frosts of autumn. But then the weather seemed to reverse itself: the autumn grew scalding. “How can this be?” wondered Tripitaka.
“We are approaching the kingdom of Sihali,” Pigsy expounded knowledgeably. “Also known as Heaven’s End, where the sun sets. Late every afternoon, the king sends people onto the city walls to beat drums and blow horns to block out the sound of the sea boiling—for when the sun drops into the ocean, it makes a deafening sizzle. Without music to block the noise, the city’s children would all perish.”
“Bunk!” scoffed Monkey. “We’re still ages away from Sihali. And at the rate we’re going, we might never get there.”
“Then why is it so hot?” Pigsy asked. As they walked and squabbled, they came upon a large red house at the roadside.
“Go inside and find out what’s going on with the weather,” Tripitaka ordered Monkey.
Putting away his staff and trying his best to look normal, Monkey approached the house just as an old man emerged. The man wore a rough orange robe and a bluish-black bamboo hat. His eyes were blue, his face bronze, his beard matted, and his eyebrows white. The sudden appearance of Monkey startled him. “A monkey in a kilt! Where did you come from?” he yelled.
“Don’t be afraid, sir,” Monkey replied with a bow, and introduced his fellow travelers and the purpose of their journey. “We’ve just arrived and were wondering if you could tell us the name of this place and why it is so hot here.”
The old man relaxed and smiled, revealing some gold teeth. “Excuse my rudeness just now; my eyes are not what they used to be. Please—come in, all of you.” Monkey waved the others over; all bowed to the old man, who was as charmed by Tripitaka’s beauty as he was horrified by the hideousness of Pigsy and Sandy. Yet he had little choice but to give them tea and a meal. “You’ve reached the country of Flame Mountain, where it is hot all year round. The mountain itself is sixty miles from here, blocking the way to the west and engulfing the surrounding area with fire. I suggest you pick a new destination for your pilgrimage—nothing can get past Flame Mountain.”
While Tripitaka wallowed in fear and despair, a young man pushing a red cart appeared at the door. “Rice pudding for sale!”
Monkey plucked a hair, turned it into a copper penny, and exchanged it for a piece of steaming rice cake. “Hot, hot, hot!” he exclaimed, juggling the cake from one hand to the other.
“If you can’t stand the heat, then stay out of Flame Mountain.” the young man said with a smile.
“If it’s so hot,” wondered Monkey, “how did you grow rice for this pudding?”
“With the help of Princess Iron-Fan.”
“Who?” Monkey asked.
“She’s an immortal with a magic palm-leaf fan. One wave of it puts the fire out, a second brings a breeze, a third rain. That brief respite allows us to grow crops. Otherwise, nothing would grow around here—not even a blade of grass.”
Monkey rushed back inside. Presenting Tripitaka with the pudding, he explained what the peddler had just told him. “We just need to get Iron-Fan’s fan and then we can extinguish the mountain of flames. We’ll be able to carry on our way and the locals will be able to enjoy a more temperate climate.”
“But you don’t have any gifts,” the old man pointed out. “The locals have to prepare pigs, sheep, cash, exotic flowers and fruits, chickens, geese, and fine wine before begging for a wave of the fan.”
“Just give me her address,” Monkey said nonchalantly.
“She lives in Palm-Leaf Cave on Jade-Cloud Mountain—it’s about fifteen hundred miles southwest of here.”
“No worries!” Monkey grinned. “I’ll be there and back before you know it.”
“Let me pack you some biscuits for the journey. And watch for the wolves and tigers.”
“I’ll go as I am!” Monkey laughed, then vanished.
An instant later, Monkey parked his auspicious light beam on Jade-Cloud Mountain. Searching for Palm-Leaf Cave, he heard a woodcutter chopping timber and singing to himself in the forest. “Greetings!” said Monkey with a bow, rushing up. The woodcutter dropped his ax and returned the bow. “Is this Jade-Cloud Mountain?” Monkey asked.
“Indeed.”
“And where might I find Palm-Leaf Cave?”
“You mean the home of Princess Iron-Fan, wife of King Bull Demon?”
Even Monkey was shaken by this revelation. “Not that family again.” He sighed to himself. “I’ve had more than enough trouble from Red Boy and his bad-tempered uncle. And now I have to face his mother. I don’t like my chances of getting the fan off her.”
The woodcutter smiled. “Buddhists aren’t supposed to worry about anything. Follow this path five or six miles to the east and you’ll come to Palm-Leaf Cave.” Deciding to confide in the woodcutter, Monkey told him about the pilgrimage and the feud with Iron-Fan’s son. “Don’t fret about your history with the family,” the woodcutter comforted him. “Just concentrate on getting the fan, and I’m sure you’ll succeed.” Thanking him for his advice, Monkey went on his way.
He soon arrived at the entrance to Palm-Leaf Cave. The view over the mountain was spectacular: cool, shady bamboo forests, paths dense with flowers, moss-covered rocks. Wild cranes roosted on towering pines; orioles sang from weeping willows. “King Bull!” Monkey called through the door with as much bonhomie as he could muster. “It’s your brother! Open up!” Out came a young girl carrying a flower basket and resting a hoe on her shoulder, radiating serenity. “Would you deliver a message to the princess?” Monkey asked her, palms pressed together. “I’m seeking scriptures in the west, but Flame Mountain is blocking my way. I’ve come to borrow the Palm-Leaf Fan.”
“Of course,” the girl replied. “And your name is?”
“Monkey.”
The girl went back inside, kneeled before her mistress, and announced their visitor and his purpose. As soon as she heard the name Monkey, Iron-Fan predictably flushed with rage. “How dare that damn monkey show his face here? Bring me my armor and weapons!” Plated up and wielding two blue-bladed swords, she strode out of the cave.
Monkey quickly sized her up: she was wearing a priest’s robe of patchwork brocade (the waist cinched with a pair of tiger tendons), three-inch phoenix-bill shoes, and trousers with golden dragon-whisker knee fringes.
“WHERE’S THAT MONKEY?” she bellowed.
“Here I am, sister-in-law!” he announced with a bow.
“Pah!” hissed Iron-Fan. “What do you mean, sister-in-law? And stop bowing in that stupid way.”
“Your husband and I have been sworn brothers these past five hundred years. I understand that you are his wife. That means I’m your brother-in-law.”
“If we’re family, then why did you persecute my son?”
Monkey opted to feign ignorance. “And your son would be . . . ?”
“Red Boy of Fire-Cloud Cave by Desiccated Pine Stream on Roaring Mountain. Name ring a bell? Just when I was wondering how to destroy you, here you come knocking at my door. Prepare to die!”
Monkey tried to smile his way out of it. “Surely some mistake. Monkey was not in the wrong. Your dear son had captured my teacher, Tripitaka, and was planning either to steam or boil him. Guanyin then rescued Tripitaka and gave your dear son a senior position in her administration, where he is exempt from mortal cycles of birth and death, enjoying life as long as heaven and earth, sun and moon. Perhaps a thank-you is in order?”
“Smart-talking simian!” spat Iron-Fan. “Let me have a go at your head. If you survive, I’ll give you the fan. If not, you can go and entertain King Yama with your backchat.”
Monkey walked up to her. “Don’t hold back. But you have to give me the fan when you’re done.” She hacked at him a dozen or so times, Monkey giggling all the while. Losing her nerve, Iron-Fan turned and made to flee. “Where are you going?” asked Monkey. “What about the fan?”
“It’s not for lending!” retorted Iron-Fan.
Monkey now produced his staff and the two of them did their best to kill each other, like the affectionate in-laws they were. As night fell, however, Iron-Fan realized that Monkey would ultimately get the better of her in a straight fight, so she shook her Palm-Leaf Fan at him: a gust of freezing wind blew him away and she returned victoriously to her cave.
Monkey drifted all through the night—like a leaf in a cyclone—until he finally managed to cling to the summit of a mountain as day broke. After catching his breath, he discovered he’d been blown as far as the Lesser Sumeru Mountain, a sacred Buddhist peak. “What a woman!” Monkey sighed in admiration. “Now, how do I get back on course?” Remembering that the mountain was home to a Bodhisattva with substantial magic powers, one Lingji, he followed the sound of bells to present himself at Lingji’s temple.
“Well done, Monkey!” Lingji congratulated him, hopping off his throne. “Back with the scriptures already?”
“Not exactly,” replied Monkey.
“Then what are you doing here? This isn’t on the road to the west.”
Monkey explained his latest imbroglio, this time with Princess Iron-Fan. “. . . and that’s how I ended up here. How far is it back to Flame Mountain from here?”
Lingji seemed to find this whole story enormously entertaining. “Princess Iron-Fan’s Palm-Leaf Fan,” he explained with a smile, “was created by heaven and earth back when chaos divided and Pan Gu built the universe. It’s made of magic leaves of supreme yin—darkness and cold—which is why it can extinguish all fires. It can fan a single human eighty-four thousand miles. Sumeru’s only fifty thousand miles from Flame Mountain, so you did very well to stop here.”
“Impressive,” admitted Monkey. “But now what am I to do?”
“Don’t worry,” Lingji consoled him. “Some years back, the Buddha gave me a treasure for this very situation: the wind-stilling elixir, which will enable you to resist her fan. You can then take the fan, extinguish the fire, and carry on to the west.” He fished out of his sleeve the magic pellet, which he sewed firmly onto the underside of Monkey’s collar. “Not a moment to lose!” Lingji urged him. “Jade-Cloud is that way, to the northwest.”
After an instant’s cloud-somersaulting, Monkey was back at Iron-Fan’s door, banging on it with his staff. “Open up! Monkey wants the fan!”
This monkey must be quite something, thought a fearful Iron-Fan. How can he be back so soon after I fanned him? This time, I’ll fan him two or three times—that’ll send him packing for good. She stomped out of the cave again. “Still got that death wish, I see,” she greeted her adversary.
“Play fair,” Monkey said, smiling back. “Lend me the fan so we can get past that mountain. You’ll have it back straight after.”
She answered by charging at him again. Realizing after a few minutes that the fight wasn’t going her way, Iron-Fan fanned him once more, but this time Monkey was completely unmovable. “Technical issue?” he inquired, with a grin. Panicking, Iron-Fan ran back inside the cave and locked the door.
Popping the wind-stilling elixir into his mouth, Monkey transformed into a tiny cricket and squeezed in through a crack in the door. Inside, Iron-Fan was shouting for tea. Her maidservant poured a bowl for her so quickly that bubbles formed on the surface. Monkey nimbly buzzed inside one of the bubbles. After the thirsty Iron-Fan gulped down the tea, Monkey changed back to his true self inside her stomach. “I want that fan!” he bellowed.
“Did you not shut the doors?” Iron-Fan asked her maids, growing pale with fright. “Why can I hear Monkey shouting at me?”
“The voice is coming from inside you,” one of the servants told her.
“Monkey! What trick is this?” Iron-Fan demanded.
“This is no trick,” Monkey argued. “I’m a fully qualified immortal with serious abilities. And I’m currently deploying some of them in your esteemed stomach. I’ve got a particularly scenic view of your lungs and liver. You must be hungry and thirsty after that fight, so here’s a bowl for you to drink out of”—he stamped his foot hard on the base of her stomach—“and here’s something for you to chew on”—he butted his head up toward Iron-Fan’s heart.
The princess writhed on the ground, her face yellow with pain. “Spare me!”
“I’ll spare you out of brotherly love. But I want the fan. Now.”
“It’s yours!” wailed Iron-Fan. “Just come out and get it.”
“I want to set eyes on it first,” demanded Monkey. Iron-Fan ordered her maids to hold it up; Monkey crept to the top of her throat to see it for himself. “All right,” he said. “I’ll leave by your mouth so I don’t make a hole in your rib cage. Open wide.” He then flew back out of the princess’s mouth as a cricket, returned to his true form, seized the fan, and strode out. The maids couldn’t get the door open fast enough.
Turning his cloud around, Monkey returned to the redbrick house. “Monkey’s back!” Pigsy squealed in delight.
“Is this the fan?” Monkey asked the old man, producing his prize.
“The very same!”
“Marvelous Monkey!” exclaimed Tripitaka. “That can’t have been easy.”
“It was nothing,” replied Monkey. “Would you believe it, though? That Princess Iron-Fan turned out to be the wife of King Bull Demon and the mother of Red Boy. She wasn’t too pleased to see me.” After hearing about Monkey’s trials on his quest for the fan, Tripitaka thanked him profusely, then the disciples bade the old man farewell.
They proceeded west for another forty miles, getting progressively more roasted. “My trotters are on fire!” complained Pigsy.
“Stay where you are,” Monkey told the others. “I’m going to fan the fire. When the rain has cooled the ground, we can cross the mountain.” He fanned it once, but the flames raged even more fiercely. He fanned it a second time, and the blaze intensified a hundredfold. He waved it a third time, and the flames shot up as high as the eye could see. Although Monkey fled as fast as he could, the hair on his thighs was still singed to oblivion. “Run away!” he cried.
The party of pilgrims fled some twenty miles eastward before Monkey started to rage at what had happened. “How did she trick me? If I’d run any slower, I’d have lost all my fur.”
While Tripitaka wept inconsolably, Pigsy amused himself by provoking Monkey. “Aren’t you supposed to be immune to flames?”
“Idiot!” Monkey lashed back. “Because I wasn’t expecting the fire, I didn’t have time to do the fire-repellent spell.”
“Have a bite to eat, Monkey.” A voice suddenly broke into their argument. “You’ll feel better.” Turning, the four of them saw an old man, caped and capped and leaning on a cane with a dragon’s head. Following him was a demon with the beak of a hawk and the cheeks of a fish, carrying on his head a copper pot containing steamed cakes and yellow millet. “Allow me to introduce myself,” the old man said, bowing. “I am the spirit of Flame Mountain. I thought you could use some refreshments.”
“Do you think we’re interested in food at a time like this?” barked Monkey. “How are we going to put this fire out so we can carry on to the west?”
“You’re the one who set this fire burning, you know,” the spirit pointed out.
“Poppycock! When did I go around starting fires?”
“Let me explain,” replied the spirit. “This mountain did not exist until five hundred years ago, when you made all that trouble in Heaven and Laozi had to smelt you inside his Brazier of Eight Trigrams. When he opened it, you kicked over the brazier, dislodging a few burning bricks that fell onto this very spot and became Flame Mountain. I was the shift worker attending the brazier, and on grounds of professional negligence, Laozi banished me here, where I became the local spirit. You need the princess’s fan to extinguish the fire.”
“Isn’t this it?” asked Monkey, picking it up from the side of the road, where he had left it. “It only made the blaze stronger.”
“Ah.” The spirit smiled. “She duped you with a fake. If you want the real one, you’ll have to seek out King Bull Demon.”
“Why?” asked Monkey, only half persuaded by the spirit’s account of the mountain’s origins.
“King Bull Demon is Princess Iron-Fan’s husband. Some while ago, however, he left her and currently resides in Cloud-Scraper Cave on Thunder-Hoard Mountain. The cave’s former master, a fox king, passed away at the ripe old age of ten thousand, leaving behind a daughter called Princess Jade-Face and an extraordinary fortune with no one to look after it. Two years ago, Jade-Face learned how powerful King Bull Demon was and offered him all of her fortune as dowry if he agreed to become her consort. So the king abandoned Iron-Fan and hasn’t been back to visit her since. You’ll only get ahold of that fan with his help. If you succeed, you’ll not only extinguish the fire, enabling the pilgrimage to proceed, but also solve the region’s appalling climate problems. And I’ll be pardoned and allowed to return to work for Laozi in Heaven. Win-win-win.”
“So where is this Thunder-Hoard Mountain?” Monkey asked.
“About three thousand miles due south of here.”
Telling Pigsy and Sandy to look after Tripitaka, and the spirit to keep them all company, Monkey disappeared with a whoosh.
In less than an hour, Monkey landed on yet another spectacularly lovely mountain. After admiring the scenery for a while, he picked his way down from the summit. Quite lost, he encountered a beautiful young woman on the edge of a shady pine forest, holding a fragrant sprig of orchid. As soon as she noticed him, the girl was paralyzed with fear—for he was an unusual-looking creature. “W-where did you come from?” she said, trembling. “What do you want?”
Better not mention the fan outright, Monkey thought, in case she’s related to old Bull Demon. I’d better just say that he’s wanted back home. Out loud: “I’m looking for Cloud-Scraper Cave. Could you direct me there, please?”
“And what is your business there?” she asked.
“Princess Iron-Fan from Palm-Leaf Cave on Jade-Cloud Mountain has sent me to fetch King Bull Demon.”
The girl immediately flew into a rage. “That worthless hag! In the two years Bull Demon’s been living with me, he’s sent her endless pearls, gold, silver, jade, silk, and satin as alimony so that she can live in the lap of luxury. And now she wants him to go and see her! Does she have no shame?”
By now, Monkey had deduced both that this was Princess Jade-Face and that she was profoundly irritating.
“Hypocrite!” he threw back at her. “You bought King Bull Demon with your own fortune!”
The terrified girl turned and fled on her tiny feet, with Monkey in pursuit, through the shady forest and all the way to Cloud-Scraper Cave. She dashed in and slammed the door behind her. While Monkey paused once more to admire the scenery, Jade-Face, panting and perspiring, made straight for the library, where King Bull Demon was quietly studying some elixir manuals. The girl flung herself at him and sobbed uncontrollably. “There, there,” soothed King Bull Demon with a smile, “whatever’s wrong, darling?”
“Don’t ‘darling’ me!” complained the girl, now sufficiently recovered for some petulance. “You almost got me killed!”
“Why are you so angry with me?” said Bull Demon, laughing at her fury.
“I took you in because everyone said you were such a hero—I thought you’d protect me. But that first wife of yours has got you wrapped around her little finger!” Jade-Face now told him what had just happened while she was out picking orchids (leaving out some of the less-flattering personal comments she had made about Princess Iron-Fan), and finished with her being pursued all the way back to the cave by a terrifying monkey.
Bull Demon eventually calmed her down, but something struck him as fishy. “My first wife runs a very tight ship with an all-female staff,” he mused. “I’m not at all convinced that she would have sent a hideous monkey demon as a messenger. Time to investigate.” Strapping on a gold cuirass lined with silk brocade and an iron helmet polished to a bright silver, he strode out of the cave wielding a cast-iron cudgel to confront Monkey.
As he took in the splendiferousness of Bull Demon, Monkey had to admit that his blood brother from half a millennium ago had done well for himself. “Recognize me?” he asked Bull Demon.
“Monkey—am I right?”
“Right the first time! Long time, brother. I must say, you haven’t aged a bit. My compliments!”
“Enough blandishments!” roared Bull Demon. “Why did you give my son Red Boy, of Fire-Cloud Cave by Desiccated Pine Stream on Roaring Mountain, such a hard time?”
“Not that again. Don’t make me out to be the unreasonable one, old chap. Your son was about to eat my teacher. And now he’s living the good life, up with Guanyin.”
“All right, I’ll let you off for that one. But why did you attack my concubine?”
“Oh, that.” Monkey laughed. “I didn’t know where to find you, so I asked her ever so nicely for some directions. Then she gave me a tongue-lashing and I might have been a little rough. How was I to know she was my sister-in-law? Would it help if I said I was sorry?”
“I’ll spare you for old time’s sake. Now beat it!”
“You are too kind,” simpered Monkey. “But I’m afraid there is one other thing I need to beg of you.”
“Don’t push your luck, Monkey,” growled Bull Demon.
“It’s like this.” Monkey carried on regardless. “There I was, escorting that Tang monk of mine to the west, and what do you know—there’s a whopping Flame Mountain in our way. The locals told us that my esteemed sister-in-law Princess Iron-Fan happens to possess the Palm-Leaf Fan that can extinguish fire. But she’s not so keen on us borrowing it. Be a compassionate bull demon and come with me now to Jade-Cloud Mountain, would you, and persuade her to lend us the fan? We’ll return it in mint condition as soon as we’re past that furnace.”
“So that’s what you’re after?” Bull Demon exploded. “I’ll bet you insulted my wife, too, and now you have the gall to ask for my help? This time you’ve gone too far, Monkey. Have a taste of my cudgel!”
“I really do need that fan,” Monkey persevered.
“If you can hold your own against me,” growled Bull Demon, “I’ll tell my wife to lend it to you. If not, I’ll kill you, just to cheer myself up.”
“Good plan, brother. It’s been centuries since we tested ourselves against each other—I’ve really missed our mortal combat.”
When they were about a hundred clashes in—each fighting on their respective auspicious clouds—a voice called out from the summit of Thunder-Hoard Mountain: “Lord Bull Demon! My sovereign begs the pleasure of your company for dinner.”
Bull Demon blocked and held Monkey’s staff. “Hold on. Back after a banquet.” Dropping down from the clouds, Bull Demon went back inside the cave. “Dearest wife,” he told Princess Jade-Face, “our hairy visitor is the infamous Monkey. I drove him away with my cudgel, so he won’t give you any more trouble. I’m off to have a drink with a friend.” He then swapped his armor for a duck-green silk-velvet jacket, mounted a water-repellent, golden-eyed beast, ordered the servants to guard the door, and disappeared northwest into the cloud and fog.
After watching him leave, Monkey turned into a gust of wind and chased after his adversary until the latter disappeared amid the folds of a mountain. After a little exploration, Monkey discovered a deep, limpid pool. I’ll bet he dived in there, he thought. Transforming this time into a thirty-six-pound crab, Monkey leaped in and sank straight to the bottom, where he encountered a finely carved gateway, beneath which was tethered the water-repellent, golden-eyed beast. Walking through the portal, the monkey-crab discovered it was perfectly dry inside. He heard music coming from a banquet hall with scarlet walls, shell-studded towers, and golden roof tiles. Peeking in through a doorframe of milky jade, he took in a scene of aquatic revelry: whales singing, giant crabs dancing, tortoises piping, alligators drumming, and perch courtesans stroking jade zithers. Ensconced in the seat of honor was King Bull Demon, surrounded by dragons, all busy toasting one another. Seeing as Bull Demon is enjoying himself so much, why should I hang around waiting for him? mused Monkey. It’s not like he’s going to lend me the fan himself. Better still to steal his golden-eyed beast, impersonate him, and fool his first wife into handing over the goods.
Becoming Monkey once more, he untied the beast, hopped into the carved saddle, and rode straight back to the surface of the pool. There he transformed into the exact likeness of King Bull Demon, soared off to Palm-Leaf Cave, and demanded to be let in. “Your husband is back,” two of the maids reported to Iron-Fan, who immediately tidied her hair and rushed out to greet him. Not realizing the deception, she took him by the hand, led him into the cave, and proceeded to make the most tremendous fuss over him. In no time at all, the two were chatting pleasantly over tea.
“It’s been too long,” offered “Bull Demon.”
“Indeed!” returned Iron-Fan. “You’ve been so wrapped up in your new consort that you seem to have completely forgotten about me. What brings you here today?”
“How could I forget you? It’s just that after moving in with Princess Jade-Face, I’ve been run ragged by one thing after another: my friends’ problems, running another household. But I’m here to warn you about something. I just heard that Monkey is plotting to get your fan from you so that he can cross Flame Mountain. I still haven’t forgiven him for what he did to our son. Tell me the moment he shows up here so that I can chop him into ten thousand pieces.”
Iron-Fan now summarized her two encounters with Monkey, all the way up to her capitulation over his stomach calisthenics.
“What?” exploded her fake husband. “Monkey already has the fan?”
“Don’t worry!” Iron-Fan smirked. “I fobbed him off with a fake.”
“So where’s the real fan?” asked Monkey.
“Still safe and sound in my possession.” The maids now brought in some wine.
“Do drink up, my precious persimmon,” Monkey cajoled her. “Thank you for looking after our home while I’ve been gone.”
“Please don’t mention it,” replied Iron-Fan, refilling the cup.
After a few more rounds, Iron-Fan had been thoroughly disinhibited by drink. She edged closer to Monkey: she held his hand, rubbed his shoulder, whispered sweet nothings in his ear, flushed peach-pink, and undid her top buttons. They drank from the same cup; they ate fruit from each other’s mouths. Monkey had no choice but to play along.
Seeing that her defenses were lowered, Monkey pressed on with his mission. “Where have you put the real fan, my little cauliflower? You must be careful with it. That Monkey, you know, is a master of disguise. He might try to trick you again.”
“Here it is!” Iron-Fan giggled, spitting out an object the size of an almond leaf.
Monkey took it in his hand disbelievingly. Can this really be it? he wondered to himself.
Iron-Fan now rubbed her powdered cheek against his face. “Put the fan away and have another drink,” she urged. “What are you thinking about?”
Monkey decided to seize the moment. “How can such a tiny thing extinguish fire?”
“Has that Jade-Face rotted your brain?” replied Iron-Fan, reckless from drink. “Surely you remember—twist the seventh red thread on the handle, chant the magic words ‘hui-xu-he-xi-xi-chui-hu,’ and it will grow twelve feet long and extinguish any blaze!”
Carefully committing these instructions to memory, Monkey popped the fan into his mouth, then rubbed his face and revealed his true identity. “Recognize me now?” he yelled at Iron-Fan. She was so shocked and ashamed by her sudden realization of Monkey’s deception that she stumbled and fell, knocking over tables and chairs as she went. Completely indifferent to her distress, Monkey strode triumphantly out of the cave. He hopped onto a cloud that took him straight to the top of the mountain, where he spat out the fan and followed Iron-Fan’s usage instructions. The good news was that it was clearly different from the earlier fake one: it immediately grew to twelve feet and was enveloped in an auspicious light and propitious vapors. The bad news was that Monkey had not thought to learn the magic for shrinking the fan back again, so he had no choice but to haul the thing back on his shoulders.
Meanwhile, Bull Demon was finally leaving his underwater banquet. Returning to the gateway, however, he discovered that his steed had vanished. “Who stole my water-repellent, golden-eyed beast?” he roared at the gathered spirits.
“It wasn’t us!” they pleaded, falling to their knees. “We were all in the banqueting hall, singing, playing, and serving.”
“Could an intruder have somehow got in?” wondered the dragon paterfamilias.
“I do recall seeing an unfamiliar crab wandering about,” recalled one of his sons.
“I think I can guess what happened,” Bull Demon said. “Before you invited me tonight, I was battling with Monkey, who wanted the Palm-Leaf Fan off me so that he could carry on his way west. He must have turned into a crab to follow me here, stolen my ride, and gone on to my wife’s place to finagle the fan off her.”
“Not—not the Monkey who turned Heaven upside down?” the watery spirits said, trembling.
“The very same,” Bull Demon confirmed. “I’d advise you to avoid the road to the west for the time being.”
Parting the water, King Bull Demon leaped out of the pool, hopped onto a yellow cloud, and made for Palm-Leaf Cave on Jade-Cloud Mountain, where he found his first wife wailing and raging, and the golden-eyed beast tethered outside. “You bastard!” Iron-Fan screamed at him. “How could you let that monkey steal your golden-eyed beast and your identity and humiliate me like that?”
“Where is he?” Bull Demon asked between gritted teeth.
“That bastard ape tricked the fan off me, turned back into Monkey, and disappeared. I’m so angry I could die!”
“Calm down. I’ll catch that monkey, get the fan back, then skin him, pulverize his bones, and gouge out his heart. Now, give me my weapons!”
“You don’t keep your weapons here anymore,” the maids pointed out.
“All right, give me my wife’s weapons!” The maids handed over the two blue-bladed swords. Taking off the duck-green silk-velvet jacket he’d worn to the banquet, King Bull Demon tightened his belt and headed straight for Flame Mountain.
Soon enough, he caught up with Monkey, who was strolling merrily along toward Flame Mountain with the enormous fan on his shoulders. So he even swindled my wife out of the trick for enlarging the fan? Bull Demon thought. No good asking him for it directly—he’ll just fan me into oblivion. I understand that he has two comrades, a pig and a sand-spirit, both of whom I knew back when they were demons. I’m going to impersonate the pig, to give that monkey a taste of his own medicine. I’ll bet he’s too pleased with himself to recognize me. Bull Demon, you see, had also mastered seventy-two transformations; he was pretty much a match for Monkey in terms of skill set, though a little slower and heavier on his feet. He turned himself into the exact likeness of Pigsy, took a shortcut to get ahead, and made straight for the self-satisfied simian.
Busy reflecting on how clever he was, Monkey didn’t bother to verify “Pigsy’s” identity. “Where are you headed, Pigsy?” he asked.
“You were gone so long,” answered the artful king, “that Tripitaka was worried you couldn’t defeat Bull Demon, so he sent me to help out.”
“I’ve saved you the bother!” Monkey laughed. “I’ve got the fan.” Out came the whole story: the battle, the banquet, the bogus romancing of Iron-Fan.
“That can’t have been easy,” said the uncharacteristically solicitous “Pigsy.” “You must be exhausted. Let me carry the fan for you.” Monkey unthinkingly handed it over.
The bull demon was of course an authority on how to control the fan. As soon as it was in his hands, he made a magic sign of some sort and it was instantly as tiny as an almond leaf. “Recognize me now, wretched monkey?” he yelled, changing back to his true form.
“What an idiot I’ve been!” Monkey berated himself, before pulling out his staff and bringing it down hard on Bull Demon’s head. After dodging the blow, Bull Demon fanned Monkey. Unbeknownst to him (and also to Monkey, in fact), after Monkey had placed the wind-stilling elixir in his mouth while a cricket in Iron-Fan’s stomach, he had absentmindedly swallowed it and hence become utterly immovable. The appalled Bull Demon tossed the fan into his mouth, so as to free up both hands to slash at Monkey.
While this pair of swindlers battled it out, spraying dust, dirt, sand, and rocks at each other, Tripitaka was still sitting by the road, oppressed by heat and thirst. “How strong is this King Bull Demon?” he asked the local spirit.
“His magic powers are infinite. He’s an exact match for Monkey.”
“Where is Monkey?” Tripitaka began to fret. “It doesn’t take him any time to travel two thousand miles. But he’s been gone for a whole day. He must be battling the bull demon. Pigsy, Sandy, which of you would like to go and help Monkey fight a bull demon with infinite magic powers? We really need that fan.”
“I’d love to help,” Pigsy replied, “but it’s getting late, and I don’t know the way.”
“I do!” piped up the local spirit. “I can take you.”
A resigned Pigsy hopped onto a fast easterly cloud with the spirit, until they heard a commotion of voices and wind: the battle between Monkey and Bull Demon. “Yoo-hoo, Monkey! It’s me!” shouted Pigsy.
Monkey took out on Pigsy his annoyance at having fallen into Bull Demon’s trap. “You’ve gone and properly messed things up here,” he grumbled at Pigsy, who was nonplussed until Monkey explained Bull Demon’s fraud through impersonation. Enraged at learning about the deception, Pigsy rushed at the bull demon, showering him with blows. Exhausted by a day’s battle, Bull Demon turned into a swan and flew off; Monkey pursued him as a gyrfalcon, trying to peck the swan’s eyes out. The bull demon went on the attack now as a yellow eagle; Monkey fought back as a black phoenix. Bull Demon next transformed into a musk deer; Monkey went after him as a hungry tiger. When Bull Demon became a leopard, Monkey pounced as a golden-eyed lion. Bull Demon was now a bear and Monkey an elephant, trying to wrap his python-like trunk around the bear.
With a hoot of laughter, Bull Demon returned to his true form, a huge white bull, ten thousand feet long, eight thousand feet high. Monkey also became his real self and grew to a hundred thousand feet. This time, the forty-odd guardian deities that had been detailed to watch over the pilgrims and Monkey’s former antagonist Nezha pitched in to help Monkey. The outnumbered Bull Demon fled back to Iron-Fan’s cave on Jade-Cloud, shutting himself inside. By this point, Iron-Fan was all for surrendering, but Bull Demon insisted on continuing to fight. An instant later, however, Pigsy smashed in the cave’s second door. Leaving the fan in his wife’s safekeeping, the bull demon escaped once more, but ran directly into the cosmic nets set up by a Buddhist warrior guardian from the Cliff of Mysterious Demons—for both the Buddha and the Jade Emperor had dispatched their people to bring Bull Demon to heel. With the help of three magical weapons—a wheel of immortal fire, a demon-reflecting mirror (to prevent Bull Demon from transforming again), and a lasso—Nezha finally apprehended King Bull Demon, then led him back to Iron-Fan, who, seeing the game was up, fell to her knees and surrendered the fan.
Back on the roadside where Tripitaka and Sandy were waiting, the sky lit up as Monkey and his heavenly reinforcements returned with the fan. Walking up to Flame Mountain, Monkey waved the fan once and the fire subsided; a second time and a cool breeze blew; a third time and drizzle fell from the sky. The helpful deities scattered and King Bull Demon was taken off in disgrace to see the Buddha. Iron-Fan now kneeled before Monkey and begged for her fan back. “I promise never to misbehave again. Please return my fan to me so that I may repent and begin a new life of religious study.”
“First,” answered Monkey, “tell me how to extinguish the fire permanently.”
“You must fan the mountain forty-nine times,” revealed Iron-Fan.
Monkey did so: the fire went out and the rain came. The next day he returned the fan to her. “I’m acting in good faith here. Don’t let me down.”
Bowing her thanks, Iron-Fan began a life of reclusive self-cultivation. The local spirit decided to stay on Flame Mountain after all, to look after the locals and live off their offerings. And the four pilgrims carried on to the west, the ground wet and cool beneath their feet.