SEVENTY-FIVE

Mind Monkey drills through the yin-yang body;
Demon lords return to the true great Way.

We were telling you about that Great Sage Sun, who walked inside the cave to look left and right. He saw

A mound of skeletons,

A forest of dead bones;

Human hair packed together as blankets,

And human flesh trodden as dirt and dust;

Human tendons knotted on the trees

Were dried, parched, and shiny like silver.

In truth there were mountains of corpses and seas of blood;

Indeed the putrid stench was terrible!

The little fiends on the east

Gouged out flesh from living persons;

The brazen demons on the west

Boiled and cooked fresh human meat.

Only Handsome Monkey King had such heroic gall;

No other mortal would dare enter this door.

After a little while, he walked through the second-level door to look around inside. Ah! What he saw in here was quite different from the outside; it was a place both quiet and elegant, both handsome and spacious. On the left and right were exotic grass and rare flowers; there were old pines and aged bamboos front and back. He had to walk, however, for another seven or eight miles before he reached the third-level door, through which he stole a glance. Inside the door and sitting loftily on three high seats were three old fiends, who appeared most savage and hideous. The middle one had

Teeth like files and saws,

A round head and a square face.

He had a voice like thunder

And flashing eyes like lightning.

His nose curled skyward;

His brows sprouted flames.

When he moved,

All other beasts trembled;

When he sat,

All demons shook and quivered.

This was the king of beasts,

The green-haired lion fiend.

The one to his left had

Phoenix eyes and golden pupils,

Yellow tusks and stubby legs,

Long nose and silver hair,

A head that seemed tail-like;

Knotted brows beneath his round forehead

And a huge, rugged torso.

He had a soft voice like a lissome beauty,

But his white face was a bull-head demon’s.

A brute of prolonged self-cultivation,

This was the yellow-tusked old elephant.

The one to his right had

Golden wings and leviathan head,¹

Starlike pupils and leopard eyes.

He ruled the north, governed the south—

Fierce, strong, and courageous.

Coming alive he could fly and soar

While quails quaked and dragons dreaded.

When he shook his feathers,

All the birds went into hiding;

When he stretched his sharp claws,

All the fowl cowered in terror.

Able to reach a cloudy distance of ninety-thousand miles,

This was the great eagle-roc.

Below them stood some one hundred captains, all in complete armor and military regalia, and looking most truculent and fierce. When Pilgrim saw them, however, he was filled with delight. Not the least bit frightened, he marched through the door in big strides, and after he dropped his rattle, he lifted his head and said, “Great Kings.” Smiling broadly, the three old demons said, “Little Wind Cutter, have you returned?” “I have indeed,” replied Pilgrim in a ringing voice.

“Have you found out anything about Pilgrim Sun when you were on patrol in the mountain?”

“In the presence of the great kings,” replied Pilgrim, “I dare not speak.”

“Why not?” asked the first old demon.

“By the command of the great kings,” said Pilgrim, “I went forward, beating my rattle and shaking my bell. As I walked along, I suddenly caught sight of a person squatting by a brook. Even then he looked like a trailblazing deity, and if he had stood up, he would have been undoubtedly over a hundred feet tall. Bailing some water from the brook, he was polishing with it a huge pole on a rock. As he did so, he kept mumbling to himself that up till now, he hadn’t been able to show off the magic power of his pole. Once he had polished the pole enough to make it glow, he said he would come and use it on the great kings. I knew he had to be that Pilgrim Sun, and that’s why I have returned to make my report.”

When that old demon heard these words, he perspired profusely. Shaking all over, he said, “Brothers, I told you not to bother the Tang Monk. His disciple has such vast magic powers that he has already made plans for us. Now he is polishing his rod to beat us up. What shall we do?” Then he gave this order: “Little ones, summon all the soldiers outside the cave to come in. Shut the door, and let those priests pass.”

One of the captains who knew what had happened said immediately, “Great King, the little fiends guarding the door outside have all scattered.” “How could they have all scattered?” asked the old demon. “They must have heard the bad news, too. Shut the door quickly! Shut the door quickly!” The various fiends hurriedly banged the front and back doors shut and bolted them.

Becoming somewhat alarmed, Pilgrim thought to himself, “After they close the doors, they might question me on some other business in their house. If I can’t answer them, I will give myself away. Won’t I be caught then? Let me scare them a little bit more, so that they’ll open the doors again for me to flee if I need to.” He therefore went forward again and said, “Great Kings, that Pilgrim Sun said something that’s even more dreadful.” “What else did he say?” asked the old demon.

Pilgrim said, “He said that when he had caught hold of the three of you, he would skin the great great king, he would debone the second great king, and he would pull out the tendons of the third great king. If you shut your doors and refuse to go out, he is capable of transformations, you know. He may well change into a tiny fly, come in through a crack in the door, and seize all of us. What shall we do then?”

“Brothers,” said the old demon, “be careful. There is hardly a fly in our cave. If you see a fly coming in here, it has to be that Pilgrim Sun.” Smiling to himself, Pilgrim thought, “I’ll give him a fly to scare him a bit. Then he’ll open the doors.”

The Great Sage stepped to one side and pulled off a piece of hair behind his head. Blowing a mouthful of immortal breath on it, he whispered, “Change!” and it at once changed into a gold-headed fly, which darted up and flew smack into the face of the old demon. “Brothers, this is awful!” cried a horrified old demon. “That little something has entered our door!” Those fiends, young and old, were so terrified that they took up pitchforks and brooms to swat madly at the fly.

Unable to contain himself, our Great Sage broke into loud giggles, which, alas, he should have never permitted himself to do. For once he laughed, his original features also appeared. When the third old demon saw him, he leaped forward and grabbed him, crying, “Elder Brothers, we were almost fooled by him!” “Who is fooling whom?” asked the first old demon.

“The one who was speaking to us just now,” replied the third fiend, “was no Little Wind Cutter. He is Pilgrim Sun. He must have run into Little Wind Cutter, slain him somehow, and changed into his appearance to deceive us here.” Greatly shaken, Pilgrim said to himself, “He has recognized me!” Rubbing his face hurriedly with his hand to correct his features, he said to those fiends, “How could I be Pilgrim Sun! I am the Little Wind Cutter. The great king has made a mistake.”

“Brother,” said the old demon, smiling, “he is Little Wind Cutter. For three times every day he answers my roll call. I know him.” Then he asked Pilgrim, “Do you have your nameplate?” “I do,” replied Pilgrim, and he took it out at once from inside his clothes. More convinced than ever, the old fiend said, “Brother, don’t falsely accuse him.”

“Elder Brother,” said the third fiend, “didn’t you see him? He was giggling just now with his face half turned, and I saw for a moment a thunder god beak on him. When I grabbed him, he changed back immediately into his present looks.” He then called out: “Little ones, bring me some ropes.” The captains took out ropes immediately. Wrestling Pilgrim to the ground, the third fiend had him hog-tied before they hitched up his clothes to examine him. It became apparent at once that he was the BanHorsePlague all right! Pilgrim, you see, was capable of seventy-two kinds of transformation. If it was a matter of changing into a fowl, a beast, a plant, a utensil, or an insect, his entire body could be transformed. But when he had to change into another person, only his face but not his body could be transformed. When they lifted up his clothes, therefore, they saw a body full of brown fur, two red buttocks, and a tail.

When he saw this, the first old fiend said, “Though he may have the face of Little Wind Cutter, it’s the body of Pilgrim Sun. It’s he. Little ones, bring us some wine first, so that I may present to the third great king a cup of merit. Since we have caught Pilgrim Sun, there is no doubt that the Tang Monk will be the food of our mouths.”

“Let’s not drink wine just yet,” said the third fiend. “Pilgrim Sun is an exceedingly slippery character, for he knows many ways of escape. I fear we may lose him. Tell the little ones to haul out our vase and put Pilgrim Sun inside it. Then we can drink.” “Exactly! Exactly!” said the old demon, laughing loudly. He at once summoned thirty-six little fiends to go to their weapons chamber and haul out the vase.

How big was the vase, you ask? Why would it need thirty-six persons to carry it? Though it was no more than twenty-four inches tall, that vase was a treasure governed by the double primal forces of yin and yang. Its magic reactions inside were activated by the seven jewels, the eight trigrams, and the twenty-four solar terms. Only thirty-six persons, a number which corresponded to the number of constellations in the Heavenly Ladle group, would have sufficient strength to lift it up. In a little while, the little fiends had the treasure vase hauled out and set before the third-level door. After they had unpacked it from its wrappings and removed the stopper, they untied Pilgrim and stripped him naked. Then they carried him up to the mouth of the vase, and immediately he was sucked inside with a loud whoosh by the immortal breath of the vase. It was then covered again with its stopper, on top of which they added a tape to seal it. Beckoning his companions to join him to drink, the old fiend said, “Now that this little ape has entered my treasure vase, he’d better not think of the road to the West anymore. If he ever wanted to worship Buddha and acquire scriptures, he might as well turn his back, take up the wheel of transmigration, and seek Buddhist treasure in the next incarnation!”

We tell you now about that Great Sage, who found the vase to be quite small for his body once he reached the inside. He decided, therefore, to transform himself into someone smaller and squat in the middle of the vase. Finding it to be quite cool after some time, he could not refrain from chuckling to himself and saying out loud, “These monster-spirits are banking on their false reputation! How could they tell people that once someone was placed inside the vase, he would change into pus and blood after one and three-quarter hours? If it’s cool like this, I can live here for seven or eight years with no trouble!”

Alas! The Great Sage, you see, had no idea of how that treasure worked: if someone who had been placed within it remained silent for a whole year, then it would remain cool for all that time. But the moment that person spoke, fire would appear to burn him. Hardly had the Great Sage spoken, therefore, when he saw that the entire vase was engulfed in flames. Fortunately, he was not without abilities; sitting in the middle, he made the fire-repellent magic sign with his fingers and faced the flames calmly. After about half an hour, some forty snakes crawled out from every side and began to bite him. Pilgrim stretched forth his hands, picked up the snakes, and with a violent wrench tore them into eighty pieces. In a little while, however, three fire dragons emerged and had him encircled top and bottom.

As the situation was fast becoming unbearable, Pilgrim was rather flustered, saying to himself, “I can take care of other things, but these fire dragons are hard to deal with. If I don’t get out of here, the fire and the heat may overwhelm me after awhile. What then? I think I’d better push my way out by making my body bigger.” Dear Great Sage! Making the magic sign with his fingers and reciting a spell, he cried, “Grow!” At once his body reached the height of over a hundred feet, but the vase also grew in size with him. Reversing his magic, he reduced the size of his body, but the vase, too, grew smaller with him.

Greatly alarmed, Pilgrim said, “Hard! Hard! Hard! How could it grow big or small with me like that? What shall I do?” He had hardly finished speaking when he felt some pain on his shanks. Rubbing them hurriedly with his hand, he found his shanks were turning flaccid because of the fire. More and more anxious, he thought to himself, “What’s to become of me? Even my shanks are weakened by the fire. I’ll be reduced to a cripple!” He was hardly able to hold back his tears. Thus it was that

He thought of Tripitaka, having met demons and woes;

He missed the sage monk, when beset by fatal ordeals.

“O Master!” he cried. “Since that year when I embraced the truth because of the Bodhisattva Guanyin’s persuasion and was delivered from my Heaven-sent calamity, I suffered with you the trek through various mountains and subdued many fiends, including the bringing to submission of Eight Rules and Sha Monk. All my labor, all my bitter toil were done with the hope that we would reach the West together and attain the right fruit. Little did I realize that I would meet such vicious demons today! Having been thrown in here by my mistake, old Monkey will lose his life, and you will be stranded halfway up the mountain, unable to proceed. Could it be that my past misdeeds were what brought on my present ordeal?”

As he grieved like that, he suddenly thought to himself, “On the Serpent Coil Mountain² that year, the Bodhisattva gave me as a gift three life-saving hairs. I wonder if I still have them. Let me search for them.” He touched his whole body with his hands and found three hairs on the back of his neck to be especially stiff. Delighted, he said to himself, “All my hairs are quite soft, and only these three happen to be stiff. They must be my lifesavers!”

Clenching his teeth to endure the pain, he pulled off the hairs and blew on them a mouthful of immortal breath, crying, “Change!” One of the hairs changed into a diamond drill, the second one into a strip of bamboo, and the third into a piece of cotton rope. Bending the strip into the shape of a bow, he tied the rope to both ends and used it to guide the drill to drill away at the bottom of the vase. After awhile, light filtered in through a small hole. “Lucky! Lucky!” he said, highly pleased. “I can get out now!” As he was about to use transformation to escape, the vase suddenly turned cool once more. Why, you ask? Once he drilled through the vase’s bottom, you see, the two forces of yin and yang leaked out.

Dear Great Sage! He retrieved his hairs and, shrinking the size of his body, changed into a mole cricket, so delicate that it was no thicker than a strand of whisker and no longer than a piece of eyebrow hair. He crawled out of the hole, but instead of leaving, he flew directly up to the old demon’s head and alighted on it. The old demon was drinking merrily when all of a sudden, he put down his cup and said, “Third Younger Brother, has Pilgrim Sun melted?” “It’s about time, isn’t it?” said the third demon, smiling.

The old demon gave the order for the vase to be brought up to the table, and those thirty-six little fiends immediately went to haul it. When they discovered, however, that the vase had become very light, the terrified fiends cried, “Great Kings, the vase has turned light.” “Nonsense!” snapped the old demon. “Our treasure is the perfect product of the double forces of yin and yang. How could it have turned light?” One of the more courageous little fiends picked up the vase all by himself and brought it near the table, saying, “See for yourself whether it’s lighter or not.”

Removing the stopper, the old demon peered inside and, when he saw a speck of light coming from the bottom, he burst out, “The vase is empty!” Unable to contain himself, the Great Sage shouted on his head, “My dear child! I’m gone!” “He’s gone! He’s gone!” cried the other fiends. “Close the doors! Close the doors!”

With one shake of his body, Pilgrim retrieved the clothes they took from him, and, changing back into his original form, bounded out of the cave. “Monster-spirits, don’t you dare be unruly!” he shouted back at them as he left. “The vase has been punctured, and it can’t be used on humans anymore. It’s only good for a night pot!” Merrily and noisily, he trod the clouds and went back to the place where he left the Tang Monk. The elder at the time was just saying a prayer toward the sky, using pinches of dirt as incense. Pilgrim stopped his cloud to hear what he was saying. With his hands folded before his chest, the elder bowed to the sky and said,

I pray to all immortals of cloud and mist,

All devas, and Gods of Darkness and Light:

May they my good pupil, Pilgrim, assist

And grant him vast and boundless magic might.

When the Great Sage heard such words, he was moved to even greater diligence. Causing the cloudy luminosity to subside, he drew near and said, “Master, I’ve returned.” The elder took him by the hand and said, “Wukong, you’ve worked very hard! When you didn’t come back after having gone deep into the mountain, I was very worried. Tell me truly what sort of good or evil may we expect in this mountain.”

With a smile, Pilgrim replied, “My trip was a successful one this time only because the creatures of the Land in the East are blessed with goodly affinity; and secondly, because the merit and virtue of my master are boundless and limitless; and thirdly, because your disciple has some magic powers.” Whereupon he gave a thorough account of how he disguised himself as the Little Wind Cutter, how he was trapped inside the vase, and how he escaped. “Now that I can behold the countenance of my master once more,” he said, “I feel like I have gone through another incarnation.”

Thanking him profusely, the elder asked, “You didn’t fight with the monster-spirits this time?” “No, I didn’t,” replied Pilgrim. “You can’t therefore, escort me across the mountain, can you?” asked the elder.

As he had always been a person who loved to win, Pilgrim began to shout, “What do you mean that I can’t escort you across this mountain?” “You haven’t quite proven that you can prevail against them,” said the elder. “Everything seems so muddled at the moment. How could I dare proceed?”

“Master,” replied Pilgrim with a laugh, “you are not very perceptive! As the proverb says,

A little yarn is no thread;

A single hand cannot clap.

There are three old demons, thousands and thousands of little fiends, and only one old Monkey. How could I possibly fight with them?”

“The few cannot withstand the many,” replied the elder. “I quite understand that you can’t cope with them all by yourself. But Eight Rules and Sha Monk both have abilities. I’ll tell them to go with you, so that your united efforts will sweep clean the mountain path and escort me through it.” “What you say is quite right,” said Pilgrim, turning somewhat pensive. “Sha Monk, however, should stay here to guard you. Let Eight Rules go with me.”

Terribly alarmed, our Idiot said, “Elder Brother, you’re the one who is imperceptive! I’m rather crude, and I don’t have much ability. Even when I walk along, I resist the wind. Of what use am I to you?” “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “even though you may not have great abilities, you are still another person. As the common folks say, ‘Even a fart is additional air!’ You can at the very least build up my courage.” “All right! All right!” said Eight Rules. “I hope you’ll look after me a bit. When things become tight, don’t play tricks on me.” “Do be careful, Eight Rules,” said the elder. “Sha Monk and I will remain here.”

Arousing his spirit, our Idiot mounted a gust of violent wind with Pilgrim and rode on the fog and the cloud to go up the tall mountain. When they arrived before the door of the cave, they found the door tightly shut and no one in sight. Pilgrim walked forward and, holding his iron rod, cried out in a loud voice, “Fiends, open your door! Come out quickly to fight with old Monkey!” When the little fiends in the cave reported this, the old demon was deeply shaken. “The rumor spreading for years about how powerful that ape is,” he said, “has been proven true today!”

“Elder Brother, what do you mean?” asked the second fiend on one side. The old demon replied, “When that Pilgrim changed into Little Wind Cutter earlier this morning to sneak in here, we couldn’t recognize him. It was fortunate that our Third Worthy Brother spotted him at last and we managed to put him inside the vase. But he had the ability to drill through the vase and he escaped after he retrieved his clothes. Now he’s provoking battle outside. Who has enough courage to face him in the first fight?” To this question of his, however, no one made a reply. He asked again, but still there was no answer, for everyone inside the cave was playing deaf and dumb.

His anger rising, the old demon said, “We’re earning ourselves an ugly reputation on the main road to the West. When Pilgrim Sun today can mock us like this and we do not go out to face him in battle, our fame will surely diminish. Let me risk this old life of mine to go have three rounds with him. If I can withstand him for three rounds, the Tang Monk will be the food of our mouths. If I can’t, let’s close up our door and let them pass.” He put on his armor and opened the door to walk out. Pilgrim and Eight Rules stood by the door to stare at him, and he was some fiendish creature indeed!

A jeweled helmet topped his iron-hard head,

With dangling tassels colorful and bright.

Like flashing lightning his two eyes did glow;

Like shining mist hair on both temples flowed.

His claws were like silver, both quick and sharp;

His sawlike teeth were even and thickset.

The armor he wore was one solid gold piece;

A smart dragon-head sash wrapped round his waist.

His hands held a shiny scimitar of steel:

The world rarely saw such heroic might.

With one bellow loud as a thunderclap

He asked, “Who on our door would dare to rap?”

Turning around, the Great Sage said, “It’s your Venerable Father Sun, the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven.” “Are you Pilgrim Sun?” asked the old demon with a laugh. “You audacious ape! I’m not bothering you. Why are you provoking battle here?” Pilgrim replied, “As the proverb says,

The waves will only rise with the wind;

Water will subside without the tide.

If you didn’t bother me, you think I would come looking for you? It’s because you bunch of thugs and hoodlums have banded together to plot against my master, planning to devour him. That’s why I’ve come to do this.”

“You show up at our door in such a menacing manner,” said the old demon. “Does that mean that you want to fight?” “Exactly,” replied Pilgrim. “Stop acting with such insolence!” said the old demon. “If I ordered out my fiend troops, placed them in formation, raised the flags, and beat the drums to fight with you, all I would be doing is to show simply that I’m the local tiger trying to take advantage of you. I’ll face you alone, one to one, and no other helper will be permitted.” On hearing this, Pilgrim said, “Zhu Eight Rules, step aside. Let’s see what he’ll do with old Monkey.” Idiot indeed walked away to one side.

“You come over here,” said the old demon, “and act as my chopping block first. If your bald head can withstand three blows of my scimitar, I’ll let you and your Tang Monk go past. But if you can’t, you’d better turn him over quickly to me as a meal.”

When he heard this, Pilgrim smiled and said, “Fiend! If you have brush and paper in your cave, take them out and I’ll sign a contract with you. You can start delivering your blows from today until next year, and I won’t regard you seriously!” Arousing his spirit, the old demon stood firmly with one foot placed in front of the other. He lifted up his scimitar with both hands and brought it down hard on the head of the Great Sage. Our Great Sage, however, jerked his head upward to meet the blow. All they heard was a loud crack, but the skin on the head did not even redden. Greatly astonished, the old demon said, “What a hard head this monkey has!” Chuckling, the Great Sage said, “You don’t realize that old Monkey was

Born with a bronze head and a crown of steel

That no one possessed in Heav’n or on Earth.

Unbreakable by the mallet or the ax,

It has gone in my youth into Laozi’s stove.

Its making Four Dipper Stars had overseen

And Twenty-Eight Lodges applied their work.

It could not be wrecked though drowned a few times,

For tough sinews circled it all around.

Fearing still that it was not strong enough,

The Tang Monk added a fillet of gold!”

“Stop bragging, ape!” said the old demon. “Watch the second blow of my scimitar! It’ll not spare your life!” “Why talk like that?” replied Pilgrim. “Isn’t it enough that you hack away?” “Monkey,” said the old demon, “you have no idea that my scimitar is

Metal in the furnace forged,

Wrought by the gods’ drawn out work.

The fine blade and its mighty pow’r

Conform to military science.

It looks like the tail of a fly

And also a white serpent’s waist.

In the mountain clouds would gather;

In the ocean waves would pile high.

Pounded and polished countless times,

It has been a hundred ways refined.

Though it’s kept in an ancient cave,

It’ll win once in battle it’s placed.

I’ll grab that nice, bald, priestly head of yours

And make two gourd halves with one mighty whack!”

“This monster-spirit is so blind!” chuckled the Great Sage. “So, you think that old Monkey’s head is a gourd! All right. I won’t delay you. You can give me another blow.”

The old demon lifted his blade to hack away once more, and again the Great Sage met it with his head. With a loud crack, the head was split in two, but the Great Sage also rolled on the ground immediately and changed into two bodies. Terrified by what he saw, the fiend lowered his scimitar. From a distance, Eight Rules saw everything and said, laughing, “The old demon should strike again, and there’ll be four persons!” Pointing at Pilgrim, the old demon said, “I have heard that you are capable of the Magic of Body-Division. But why are you exercising it in my presence?” “What do you mean by the Magic of Body-Division?” asked the Great Sage.

“Why didn’t you move when I gave you the first blow?” asked the old demon. “Why did you become two persons after the second one?” “Fiend, don’t be afraid,” said the Great Sage, laughing. “If you cut me ten thousand times, I’ll give you twenty thousand persons!”

“Monkey,” said the old demon, “you may be able to divide your body, but I doubt whether you can retrieve your bodies. If you have the ability to become one again, you may give me a blow with your rod.” “No lying, now,” said the Great Sage. “You said you wanted to hack me three times with your scimitar, and you have only done it twice. Now you want me to give you a blow with my rod. If I strike you even half a blow more, I’ll give up my surname Sun!” “Well said,” replied the old demon.

Dear Great Sage! He embraced the other half of himself and, with a roll, became one person again. Picking up his rod, he slammed it down on the old demon, who parried the blow with his scimitar and said, “Brazen ape, don’t you dare be unruly! What sort of a funeral staff is that that you dare use it to hit someone right before his door?” “If you ask me about this rod of mine,” snapped the Great Sage, “you should know that it has a reputation both in Heaven and on Earth.” “What kind of reputation?” asked the old demon. The Great Sage said,

The rod of steel nine cyclic times refined

Was forged in the stove by Laozi himself.

King Yu took it, named it “Treasure Divine,”

To fix the Eight Rivers and Four Seas’ depth.

In it were spread out tracks of planets and stars,

Its two ends were clamped in pieces of gold.

Its dense patterns would frighten gods and ghosts;

On it dragon and phoenix scripts were drawn.

Its name was one Rod of Numinous Yang,

Stored deep in the sea, hardly seen by men.

Well-formed and transformed it wanted to fly,

Emitting bright strands of five-colored mist.

Enlightened Monkey took it back to the mount

To experience its pow’r for boundless change.

At times I would make it thick as a drum

Or small and tiny as an iron wire.

Huge like South Mountain or fine as a pin,

It lengthened or shortened after my desire.

Move it gently and colored clouds would rise.

Like flashing lightning it would soar and fly.

Its cold air, far-reaching, would bring you chills;

Its deadly aura could imbue the sky.

To tame tigers and dragons it I kept;

With me it toured all four corners of earth.

I once disturbed with this rod the Hall of Heav’n;

Its might broke up the Festival of Peach.

Fighting it the devarāja had no chance;

Against it Naṭa found the task most hard.

Struck by the rod, the gods had no place to hide;

One hundred thousand soldiers ran and fled.

With thunder gods guarding Divine Mists Hall

I leaped and fought to Hall of Perfect Light.

All flustered were the ministers at court,

And all divine officers were most confused.

I raised my rod to topple the Dipper Hall

And, turning, smashed the South Pole Palace.

When Emperor Jade saw how fierce was my rod,

Tathāgata was asked to face my wrath.

’Twas natural for a fighter to win or lose,

But harsh confinement was my certain lot,

Which lasted for a full five hundred years;

Then came kind counsels from South Sea’s Guanyin.

There was, she told me, a priest of Great Tang

Who offered to Heaven a stupendous vow:

To save the souls from the City of Death,

He would seek scriptures from the Spirit Mount.

But demons infested the westward way;

The journey thus was no convenient trek.

Knowing the rod had in the world no match,

She begged me to be his guardian on the way.

Perverts, touched by it, would go to Hades,

Their bones turning to flour, their flesh to dust.

Every where fiends had died beneath the rod,

In hundreds and thousands and countless scores.

Above, it busted the Dipper Palace;

Below, it smashed up all of Darkness Hall.

In Heaven it chased the Nine Planetoids

And wounded on Earth the summoner-judge.

It dropped from midair to rule mountains and streams,

Much stronger than Jupiter’s new year sword.

To guard the Tang Monk I bank on this rod,

Having beaten this world’s all monster-gods!

When he heard these words, the demon trembled and shook, though he risked his life and raised the scimitar to strike. Beaming broadly, the Monkey King met him with the iron rod. At first the two of them fought before the cave; after a while, they leaped up to do battle in midair. What a marvelous battle it was!

A treasure that fixed Heaven River’s depth

Was the rod, named Compliant, this world’s prize.

Such vaunting talents the demon displeased,

Who raised his scimitar with magic might.

A conflict before the door might one resolve.

How could any be spared in a midair fight?

After his own feelings one changed his looks;

One’s torso grew taller without delay.

They fought till clouds thickened in the sky

And fog drifted up from the ground.

That one made plans a few times to devour Tripitaka;

That one exercised his vast pow’r to guard the Tang Monk.

Because the Buddha wished the scriptures to impart,

Evil and good became clear, locked in bitter strife.

The old demon and the Great Sage fought for over twenty rounds, but no decision could be reached. When Eight Rules down below saw, however, how intense a battle the two of them were waging, he could no longer stand idly by. Mounting the wind, he leaped into the air and delivered a terrific blow with his rake, aiming it at the monster’s face. The demon was horrified, for he did not know that Eight Rules was a blunderer, someone without any real stamina. When he saw that long snout and those huge ears, the demon thought that the hands would also be heavy and the rake vicious. Abandoning his scimitar therefore, he turned and fled in defeat. “Chase him! Chase him!” shouted the Great Sage.

Relying on his companion’s authority, our Idiot raised high the muckrake and went after the fiend. When the old demon saw him approaching, he stood still before the mountain slope and, facing the wind, changed back into his original form. Opening wide his huge mouth, he wanted to swallow Eight Rules, who was so terrified by the sight that he dove quickly into the bushes by the wayside. He crawled in there, without regard for thorns or prickles and with no thought of the pain of the scratches on his head; trembling all over, he stayed in the bushes to see what would develop.

In a moment, Pilgrim arrived, and the old fiend also opened wide his mouth to try to devour him, little knowing that this was exactly what Pilgrim desired. Putting away his iron rod, Pilgrim ran up to the fiend, who swallowed him in one gulp. Our Idiot in the bushes was so shaken that he muttered to himself, “How stupid is this BanHorsePlague! When you saw the fiend coming to devour you, why didn’t you run away? Why did you go up to him instead? You might still be a priest today inside his stomach, but tomorrow you’d be a big pile of droppings!” Only after the demon left in triumph did our Idiot crawl out from the bushes and slip away on the road he came.

We tell you now about Tripitaka, who waited with Sha Monk beneath the mountain slope. All of a sudden they saw Eight Rules running back and panting heavily. Horrified, Tripitaka said, “Eight Rules, how is it that you look so desperate? Where is Wukong?” “Elder Brother,” sobbed our Idiot, “has been swallowed by the monster-spirit in one gulp.” When he heard this, Tripitaka collapsed on the ground, and only after a long time could he stamp his feet and pound his chest. “O disciple!” he cried. “I thought that you were so adept in subduing the fiends that you could lead me to see Buddha in the Western Heaven. How could I know that you would perish in the hands of this fiend? Alas! Alas! The merit of this disciple and others have all turned to dust now!”

The master was beside himself with grief. But look at our Idiot! Instead of trying to comfort his master he called out, “Sha Monk, bring me the luggage. The two of us will divide it up.” “Second Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “why do you want to divide it?” “When we have divided it,” replied Eight Rules, “each of us can go our own way; you can return to Flowing Sand River to be a cannibal, and I’ll go back to the Old Gao Village to see my wife. We’ll sell the white horse, and that should enable us to buy a coffin for our master in his old age!” The elder was already heaving in anguish. When he heard these words, he began to wail, calling on Heaven to help him all the time and we shall leave him there for the moment.

We tell you about that old demon, who thought it a smart thing to have swallowed Pilgrim. When he reached his own cave, the various fiends came to greet him and asked him about the battle. “I caught one,” said the old demon. Delighted, the second demon asked, “Which one did you catch, Big Brother?” “It’s Pilgrim Sun,” replied the old demon. “Where have you caught him?” asked the second demon. The old demon said, “He has been swallowed into my stomach in one gulp.”

Horrified, the third demon said, “O Big Brother, I’m sorry I haven’t told you, but Pilgrim Sun is inedible!” “I’m very edible!” said the Great Sage in the belly. “Moreover, I satisfy! You’ll never be hungry again!” The little fiends were so frightened that one of them said, “Great King, it’s terrible! Pilgrim Sun is talking inside your stomach!”

“I’m not afraid of his talking!” said the old demon. “If I have the ability to devour him, you think I have no ability to handle him? Go and boil me some salt water quickly. Let me pour it down my stomach and throw him up. Then we can have him slowly fried and eaten with wine.”

The little fiends indeed went and brought back half a pan of hot salt water, which the old demon immediately drained. Opening wide his mouth, he retched in earnest, but our Great Sage seemed to have taken roots in the stomach. He did not even budge. The old demon pressed his own throat and retched again and again until he became dizzy and dim of sight. Even his gall seemed to have been busted! But Pilgrim remained unmoveable as ever. After he panted for awhile, the old demon cried, “Pilgrim Sun, aren’t you coming out?”

“It’s too early!” replied Pilgrim. “I don’t feel like coming out!” “Why not?” asked the old demon. “You’re not a very smart monster-spirit!” said Pilgrim. “Since I became a monk, I have led a rather penurious life. It’s the cool autumn now, and all I have on is an unlined shirt. This belly of yours is quite warm, and it has no draft. This is exactly where I should spend my winter.”

On hearing this, all the fiends said, “Great King, Pilgrim Sun wants to spend the winter in your belly.” “If he wants to do that,” said the old demon, “I’ll practice meditation. With my magic of hibernation, I’ll not eat for a whole winter and starve that BanHorsePlague.”

“My son,” said the Great Sage, “you are so dumb! On this journey in which old Monkey is accompanying the Tang Monk to go seek scriptures, we passed through Canton and I picked up a portable frying pan, excellent for cooking chop suey.³ If I take time to enjoy your liver, chitterlings, stomach, and lungs, I think I can last easily till spring!”

“O Elder Brother,” cried a horrified second demon, “this ape is capable of doing this!” “O Elder Brother,” said the third demon, “it’s all right to let him eat the chop suey, but I wonder where he is going to set up the frying pan.” “On the fork of his chest bone, of course!” replied Pilgrim. “That’s bad!” cried the third demon. “If he sets up the pan there and starts a fire, you’ll sneeze if the smoke rises to your nostrils, won’t you?” “Don’t worry,” said Pilgrim, chuckling. “Let old Monkey punch a hole through his head with my golden-hooped rod. That will serve both as a skylight and a chimney.”

On hearing this, the old demon became quite frightened, even though he pretended to be brave and said, “Brothers, don’t be afraid. Bring me our medicinal wine. I’ll drink a few goblets and kill that ape with the drug.” Smiling to himself, Pilgrim said, “When old Monkey caused great disturbance in Heaven five hundred years ago, he devoured the elixir of Laozi, the wine of the Jade Emperor, the peaches of the Lady Queen Mother, and all kinds of dainties like phoenix marrow and dragon liver. What, in fact, have I not tasted before? What kind of medicinal wine is this that he dares use to drug me?”

After the little fiends went and bailed two pots of the medicinal wine, they filled a large goblet and handed it to the old demon. The moment he took it in his hands, however, our Great Sage could smell the wine’s fragrance even inside the belly of the demon. “I won’t allow him to drink it!” he said to himself. Dear Great Sage! With a twist of his head, he turned his mouth into the shape of a trumpet which he placed immediately below the throat of the old demon. When the old demon drank in one gulp the goblet of wine, it was immediately swallowed by Pilgrim. When he drank the second goblet, it, too, was swallowed by Pilgrim, and in this way seven or eight goblets went down the throat of the demon. Putting down the goblet, the old demon said, “I’m not drinking anymore. It used to be that two goblets of this wine would make my stomach feel like fire. I drank seven or eight goblets just now, and my face hasn’t even reddened!”

But our Great Sage, you see, could not take too much wine. After he had swallowed seven or eight gobletfuls from the old demon, he became so delirious that he began to do calisthenics without pause inside the demon’s belly. He did jumping jacks and cartwheels; he let loose high kicks; grabbing the liver he used it for a swing, and he went through handstands and somersaults, prancing madly here and there. So unbearable was the pain that the fiend slumped to the ground. We do not know whether he died or not; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.