Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Now, although the Great Sage had been driven away by Tang Seng, he still thought of him with longing and sighed without cease. Soon he gazed upon the Eastern Ocean and said, "I have not traveled this road for five hundred years!" He beheld the waters:

Mist-waves rolling and swelling, mighty billows surging and rolling on. The mist-waves rolling and swelling joined the Milky Way; the mighty billows surging and rolling on connected with the veins of the earth. When the tide came rushing, the waters swirled and eddied. When the tide came rushing, it was like spring thunder roaring three springs; the waters swirling and eddied were like the wild winds blowing through the three months of summer. The blessed old men riding dragons, coming and going, surely furrowed their brows as they traveled; the immortal lads straddling cranes, crossing back and again, indeed passed over with worry and dread. Near the shore there were no villages or hamlets; beside the water there were few fishing boats. The waves rolled up a thousand years of snow; the wind brought forth autumn in the sixth month. Wild birds came and went as they pleased; sandpipers floated and sank as they willed. Before the eyes there were no anglers; beside the ears one heard only gulls. The fish roaming beneath the sea were joyful; the wild geese passing the horizon's edge were sorrowful.

The Pilgrim bounded with his body and leaped across the Eastern Ocean, arriving promptly at Flower-Fruit Mountain. He pressed down his cloud, opened his eyes, and looked—on that mountain, flowers and grass were all gone, mist and radiance utterly extinguished; the peaks and crags had collapsed, the forests and trees were scorched and withered. Why was it like this? It was because he had caused havoc in Heaven and been taken up to the Upper Realm; this mountain had been set ablaze and burned to ruin by the god Erlang the Sage, leading his seven brothers of Mount Meishan. The Great Sage was doubly more desolate and wretched. There is an ancient-style poem as testimony to this scene of a ruined mountain and desolate landscape. The poem reads:

Turning back to gaze upon the immortal mountain, two tears fall,

Facing the mountain, desolate and wretched, grief is all the more deep.

At the time I only thought the mountain suffered no harm,

Today I know at last that the earth has been diminished.

Hateful Erlang, who annihilated me,

Despisable little Sage, who deceived and wronged men.

In your violence you dug up your father's sacred tomb,

Without cause you broke open the foundations of your ancestors' graves.

The mist and radiance of the whole sky have all dissipated and vanished,

The wind and clouds across the land have all scattered and thinned.

On the eastern ridge one no longer hears the roaring of the spotted tiger,

On the western mountain where does one see the white apes cry?

In the northern valley the foxes and hares have left no trace,

In the southern gorge the river-deer have vanished without a sign.

Blue stones burned into a thousand clods of earth,

Green sand transformed into a single pile of mud.

The tall pines outside the cave have all leaned and fallen,

The green cypresses before the cliff are all sparse and few.

The camphor, fir, locust, cypress, chestnut, and sandalwood are scorched,

The peach, apricot, plum, pear, and jade are destroyed.

The mulberry is cut off and the silkwelt is gone—how can one raise silkworms?

The willows are sparse and the bamboo few—hard for birds to roost.

The cunning stones at the peak's crest have turned to dust,

The springs at the ravine's bottom are dry and all turned to grass.

Before the cliff the black soil has buried the orchids and irises,

Beside the path the red mud is overgrown with kudzu and creeping vines.

Where do the flying birds of former days fly now?

To what mountains do the running beasts of that time go?

The leopards, loathing the evil pythons, dwell in the ruined places,

The cranes, avoiding the serpents, return amid the decay.

It must be that evil thoughts were acted upon in days past,

Bringing about hardship and suffering before our eyes now.

As the Great Sage was grieving, he heard before the slope of fragrant grass, within the hollow of brambles, a sound, and out leaped seven or eight little monkeys. They rushed forward in a crowd, surrounded him, and kowtowed, crying out loudly: "Great Sage Grandfather, you've come home today!" The Monkey King said: "Why are you not playing and frolicking? Every one of you has hidden your tracks and concealed your forms. I have been here a long time and have not seen your shadows—why is this?" When the monkeys heard this, they each shed tears and reported: "Since the Great Sage was captured and taken up to the Upper Realm, we have suffered the torment of hunters, and it has truly been hard to endure. How could we withstand their hard crossbows and strong bows, their vicious hawks and fierce hounds, their nets, snares, hooks, and spears? For this reason each of us has cherished his life and dared not show his head to play; we have only hidden deep in our cave dwellings and kept far from our nests and lairs. When hungry, we steal grass from the hillside to eat; when thirsty, we suck clear spring water from the ravine. Just now we heard the voice of Great Sage Grandfather and have come specially to receive you, hoping for your support." When the Great Sage heard these words, he became even more desolate and wretched. He then asked: "How many of you are still on this mountain?" The monkeys said: "Old and young, there are only about a thousand." The Great Sage said: "At the time I had a total of forty-seven thousand demon followers—where have they all gone now?" The monkeys said: "Ever since Grandfather left, this mountain was set on fire by the Bodhisattva Erlang and more than half were burned to death. We crouched in wells, hid in ravines, and concealed ourselves under the iron-plank bridge, and so preserved our lives. When at last the fire was extinguished and the smoke cleared, we had no fruit to sustain us and could hardly survive, so half went elsewhere. Our half, enduring hardship, remained in the mountain. These last two years, hunters have seized another half of us." The Pilgrim said: "What do they seize you for?" The monkeys said: "Speaking of these hunters, they are hateful! Those among us struck by arrows, pierced by spears, poisoned, or beaten to death—they take them, skin them, strip their bones, cook them in sauce, steam them in vinegar, fry them in oil, and salt them, eating them as food to go with their rice. Or those caught in nets, trapped in snares—they take them alive and make them jump through rings, perform somersaults, stand on their hands, beating gongs and drums in the streets, making them play and frolic in every possible way."

When the Great Sage heard these words, he was even more enraged. He asked: "Who is in charge in the cave?" The little demons said: "There are still the two Marshals Ma and Liu, and the two Generals Beng and Ba managing things." The Great Sage said: "Go and report to them that I have arrived." Those little demons rushed through the gate and reported: "Great Sage Grandfather has come home." When Ma, Liu, Beng, and Ba heard the report, they hurried out the gate, kowtowed, and welcomed him into the cave. The Great Sage sat in the middle, and the host of monsters prostrated themselves before him, saying: "Great Sage Grandfather, we have recently heard that you have preserved your life and are escorting Tang Seng to the Western Heaven to obtain the scriptures. Why do you not travel west but return to this mountain instead?" The Great Sage said: "Little ones, you do not know—that Tang Sanzang cannot tell the worthy from the foolish: for his sake I have along the way captured monsters and subdued demons, exhausting all the skills of my lifetime, and several times I have slain demons; he says I act with violence and do evil, he does not want me as his disciple, he has driven me away, and he has written a letter of banishment as proof, never to employ me again."

The crowd of monkeys clapped their hands and laughed loudly, saying, "Good fortune, good fortune! Why be a monk? Come back home and take us along to have a few years of fun!" they cried. "Quickly prepare the coconut wine to welcome the Grandfather back!" The Great Sage said, "Hold off on the wine. Let me ask you—how often do those hunters come to our mountain?" Ma and Liu said, "Great Sage, it doesn't matter the season—they pester us here day after day." The Great Sage said, "Why haven't they come today?" Ma and Liu said, "They'll be along soon enough." The Great Sage commanded, "Little ones, go out and bring all the scorched, shattered stones from the mountain and pile them up. Pile them in groups of twenty or thirty, or fifty or sixty—stack them up. I have a use for them." The little monkeys swarmed out like a hive and chaotically hauled and piled up heaps upon heaps. The Great Sage looked over the piles and said, "Little ones, hide inside the cave. Let this old Sun work his magic."

The Great Sage climbed to the mountain peak and looked out. He saw the southern half resounding with the boom-dong of drums and the clang-clang of gongs. Suddenly over a thousand men and horses appeared, all with hawks on their arms and hounds at their sides, carrying swords and spears. The Monkey King looked carefully—these men were fierce indeed, fine fellows, truly valiant and bold. He saw:

Fox fur draped across their shoulders, brocade and silk wrapped around their waists and chests.

Wolf-fang arrows tucked in their quivers, carved treasure bows slung across their hips.

Men like tigers searching the mountain, horses like dragons leaping through mountain streams.

In packs they led their hounds, on their arms perched their hawks.

Bamboo baskets carried fire cannons, and they brought gyrfalcons from the eastern seas.

A hundred loads of birdlime poles, a thousand rabbit-spear forks.

Ox-head nets to block the road, King of Hell's noose-ropes.

All shouting in chaos, scattered across the sky like stars.

The Great Sage saw these men deploy upon his mountain, and his heart burned with rage. He formed a spell with his fingers, muttered incantations, drew a breath from the southeast, and blew it forth—a great gale arose. What a wind! He saw:

Dust billowed, earth flew, trees were uprooted and forests flattened. Waves rose like mountains, surging in ten thousand layers. Heaven and earth grew dark and confused, the sun and moon dim and obscured. The wind shook the pines like tiger roars; suddenly it swept through the bamboo like dragon cries. Ten thousand hollows howled with heaven's angry breath; flying sand and rolling stones maimed and wounded.

The Great Sage summoned this great wind, and the shattered stones flew and danced wildly upon it. Pitifully, those thousand men and horses—every one of them:

Their crow-black heads were crushed to powder by stones, their sea-horses wounded by flying sand.

Ginseng and cassia officials rushed about on the hillside, blood dyed the cinnabar-red ground.

Aconite could not return to its homeland, betel nut could no way find its home.

Corpses lay like white powder upon the battlefield, the Red Maiden waited at home in vain.

A poem says:

Men dead and horses slain—how can they return home?

Wild ghosts and lonely souls tangled like hemp.

Pitiful were those valiant, spirited generals,

Who could not tell wise from fool, their blood staining the sand.

The Great Sage descended from the clouds, clapped his hands, and laughed loudly, saying, "Good fortune, good fortune! Ever since I submitted to Tang Seng and became a monk, he has constantly admonished me, saying: 'A thousand days of doing good is still not enough; one day of doing evil leaves a surplus of evil.' Truly there is truth in these words. I accompanied him and killed a few demons, and he reproached me for my savagery. Today I've come home and finished off all these hunters." He called out, "Little ones, come out!" The band of monkeys, after the great wind had passed, heard the Great Sage's call and one by one leaped out. The Great Sage said, "Go to the southern foot of the mountain and strip the clothes from the dead hunters, wash off the blood, and wear them to keep warm. Push all the corpses into the bottomless abyss. Drag the dead horses over here, skin them for boots, and salt the meat to eat slowly over time. Take the bows, arrows, spears, and swords to practice your martial arts. Gather all the assorted banners and flags for my use." The monkeys one and all assented.

The Great Sage took the banners and washed and sewed them together into one large variegated banner, on which he wrote fourteen characters: "Rebuilding Flower Fruit Mountain, Restoring Water Curtain Cave, Great Sage Equal to Heaven." He raised a pole and hung the banner outside the cave. Day by day he summoned demons and gathered beasts, hoarded grass and stockpiled grain, and never again spoke the word "monk." His connections were vast, his abilities were great, and he went to the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas to borrow some sweet celestial rainwater and wash the mountain green again. In front he planted elms and willows, behind him pines and nanmu trees, and peach, plum, jujube, and apricot—nothing was lacking. He lived in carefree ease, happy and content, and that is that.

Now Tang Seng, having trusted that cunning nature and let the wayward monkey go, climbed into the saddle and mounted his horse. Pigsy led the way ahead, and Sha Seng carried the luggage as they traveled west. After passing White Tiger Ridge, they suddenly came upon a stretch of wooded hills, truly entwined with vines and creepers, with emerald cypresses and green pines. Tripitaka called out, "Disciples, the mountain road is rugged and hard to travel, and with these dense clusters of pine forests and thick groves of trees, you must be very careful—I fear there may be demons or evil beasts." Look at that fool Pigsy, rousing his spirits, telling Sha Seng to lead the horse while he used his rake to clear the way, leading Tripitaka straight into the pine forest. As they were walking, the Elder reined in his horse and said, "Pigsy, I'm truly hungry from this whole day—where can you find some vegetarian food for me to eat?" Pigsy said, "Master, please dismount and wait here while old Pig goes to find some." The Elder dismounted, Sha Seng set down the load, took out the alms bowl, and handed it to Pigsy. Pigsy said, "Off I go!" The Elder asked, "Where are you going?" Pigsy said, "Don't worry about it. Once I go, I'll drill through ice to find fire in search of alms, and press snow to extract oil to conjure up a meal."

You see him leave the pine forest and travel westward for more than ten li, without encountering a single household — truly a place of wolves and tigers, devoid of human habitation. The Fool walked with great hardship, and within his heart he muttered to himself: "Back when the Pilgrim was around, whatever the old monk wanted, he could get. Now it has fallen to my lot, and truly they say, 'Only when you run a household do you know the price of firewood and rice; only when you raise a son do you understand a father's and mother's kindness.' There's simply no place to beg alms." Then drowsiness overtook him as he walked, and he thought: "If I go back now and tell the old monk there's nowhere to beg alms, he won't believe I've walked all this way. I'd better linger a few more hours before going back to report. Very well, very well — let me just go sleep in this patch of grass." The Fool thrust his head into the grass and lay down. At the time he only meant to doze lightly and get up soon, but who would have known that a man worn out from walking, once he drops off, will snore away without stopping.

Let us leave Bajie sleeping here for now. Let us instead tell of the Elder, who in that forest felt his ears burning and his eyes jumping, his body and mind uneasy. He hastily turned back and called to Shaseng: "Wuneng went to beg alms — why hasn't he returned by this hour?" Shaseng said, "Master, you still don't understand. He sees that the households in the West give alms to monks generously, and his big belly — he doesn't care about you! He won't come back until he's eaten his fill." Sanzang said, "That's right. If he's there indulging himself with alms food, how are we to meet up with him? The sky is growing late, and this is no place to stay — we must find somewhere to lodge." Shaseng said, "It's no matter, Master. You just sit here while I go find him." Sanzang said, "Yes, yes. Alms or no alms, that's secondary — finding a place to stay is what matters." Shaseng took his precious staff and went straight out of the pine forest to look for Bajie.

The Elder sat alone in the forest, thoroughly weary and bored. He could only rouse his spirits, jump up, gather the luggage together, and tether the horse to a tree. He took off his bamboo hat, planted his monk's staff firmly, straightened his black robes, and strolled slowly through the secluded forest to ease his mind. The Elder gazed at all the wild grasses and mountain flowers, and could not bear the noise of birds returning to their nests. Now that forest was all places where the grass grew thick and the paths were narrow, and because his thoughts were in turmoil, he took a wrong turn. For one thing he wanted to ease his mind, and for another he wanted to find Bajie and Shaseng. It so happened that the two of them had gone straight west, but after wandering a while, the Elder headed south instead. He came out of the pine forest and suddenly raised his head — and there, off to one side, golden light flashed and auspicious colors swirled. Looking closely, he saw it was a precious pagoda, its golden top emitting light. It was the rays of the setting sun reflecting off that golden top. He said, "This disciple of mine truly has no karmic fortune! Since leaving the Eastern Land, I made a vow to burn incense whenever I encountered a temple, bow to Buddha whenever I saw a Buddha, and sweep a pagoda whenever I came upon one. Isn't that a gleaming golden pagoda? How did I miss that road? Beneath the pagoda there must be a monastery, and within the monastery there must be monks — let me go have a look. The luggage and the white horse — I suppose no one passes through here, so they'll be safe. If there's a suitable place there, I'll wait for my disciples to arrive and we all can lodge together together."

Alas! The Elder had met with a stroke of bad luck. You see him stride forward and reach the pagoda. And what he saw was this:

The stone cliffs rose ten thousand zhang high, the mountains joined the blue sky. Their roots connected with the thick earth, their peaks pierced the heavens. On both sides stood several thousand mixed trees; before and behind, vines wound for over a hundred li. Flowers reflected among the grass tips where the wind cast shadows; water flowed through cloud-filled grottoes where the moon had no anchor. Fallen trees lay across deep ravines; withered vines clung to gleaming peaks. Beneath the stone bridge, clear springs gushed and rolled; upon the terrace seats, bright white powder grew. Viewed from afar it resembled the Three Isles of Paradise; seen up close it was like the blessed realm of Penglai. Fragrant pines and purple bamboo wound around the mountain stream; crows, magpies, monkeys, and apes traversed the steep ridges. Outside the cave gate, beasts came and went in rows; within the forest, birds flew in and out in flocks. Tender green fragrant herbs flourished, brilliant wild flowers bloomed. This place was clearly an evil domain — the Elder, with his bad luck, had stumbled right into it.

The Elder stepped forward and arrived beneath the pagoda gate, where he saw only a mottled bamboo curtain hanging inside. He pushed through the door, lifted the curtain, and strode in — then raised his head sharply and saw, lying on its side on a stone couch, sleeping, a demon. You ask what he looked like:

An indigo face, white fangs, a huge mouth gaping wide. On both sides, disheveled tufts of hair, all dyed with carmine; three or four purplish bristling whiskers, resembling lychee sprouts. A parrot-like snout, puffy and thrust forward; star-like eyes, bright and staring. Two fists the size of a monk's alms bowl; two blue feet like jagged, knotty logs on a cliff. He wore a loosely draped pale yellow robe, finer than brocade monk's vestments. The sword he held gleamed with brilliant light; the stone he slept on was smooth and flawless. He had once made lesser demons form ranks like ants; he had once made old monsters sit in court like bees. See his imposing manner, his mighty presence — one shout and they called him "Lord." He had once made the moon his third companion while drinking from a jug; he had once let the breeze fill both his armpits while tilting his cup of tea. See his vast magical power — in the blink of an eye he could roam to the ends of the earth. Wild forests resounded with birds; deep marshes harbored dragons and serpents. Immortal maidens tilled fields to grow white jade; Daoist masters subdued fire to nurture cinnabar. Though this small cave gate could not reach the lowest hell, this fierce demon was none other than a bull-headed yaksha.

The old monk, seeing him in this guise, was so terrified that he staggered backward, his whole body went numb and limp, his legs turned weak and soft, and he hastily tried to withdraw and flee. He had barely turned around when the fiend, whose wits were truly keen, threw wide his golden-eyed demon eyes and cried out, "You little ones, see who is outside the door!" One of the small demons poked his head out and looked, and seeing a bald-headed monk, rushed back in to report, "Great King, there is a monk outside. Round face and full cheeks, earlobes hanging to his shoulders; his flesh is tender and smooth, his skin delicate and fine. Indeed, a fine monk." The fiend heard this and said with a laugh, "This is what is called 'a fly on a snake's head—livelihood coming of its own accord.' All you little ones, hurry and chase after him, bring him here to me, and I will reward you handsomely." The little fiends then swarmed out like a hive of bees, all pressing forward together. Tripitaka saw this; though his mind was as urgent as an arrow and his feet moved as swiftly as if flying, still his heart trembled with fear and his legs were weak and numb. Moreover, the mountain path was rugged, the forest deep, and the sun was sinking—how could his feet carry him any farther? He was seized by those little demons and carried off horizontally. Truly:

A dragon in shallow waters is teased by shrimp;

A tiger on the plain is bullied by dogs.

Though good deeds are always beset by obstacles,

Who can compare with the Tang monk journeying west?

Now you see the little fiends carrying the old monk and setting him down outside the bamboo screen, joyfully reporting, "Great King, we have brought the monk in." The old fiend stole a glance and saw Tripitaka with his head held high and his bearing majestic—truly a fine monk. He thought to himself, "A monk this fine must be someone from above, not to be taken lightly. If I don not put on some display of authority, how will I make him submit?" Suddenly, borrowing the tiger's might through the fox, he bristled his red whiskers, his blood-stiffened hair pointing skyward, his eyes bulging, and with a great roar he commanded, "Bring that monk in!" The fiends all responded with a loud "Yes!" and pushed Tripitaka inside. This is the saying: "When beneath a low eaves, how dare one not bow one's head?" Tripitaka could only press his palms together and offer a greeting. The fiend said, "Where are you from, monk? Where did you come from? Where are you going? Speak quickly!" Tripitaka said, "I am a monk of the Tang Dynasty, sent by the Emperor of the Great Tang on a mission to the West to seek the scriptures. Passing through your noble mountain, I came specially to pay homage at your sacred tower, not expecting to disturb your august presence. I beg your forgiveness. When I have obtained the scriptures in the West and returned to the Eastern lands, your name will be forever honored." The fiend, hearing this, laughed loudly and said, "I knew you were a man from a great land, and indeed it is you. I was just about to eat you, and how wonderfully you have come—just right, just right! Otherwise I would have let you slip by. You are naturally food for my mouth; you had to come bumping along of your own accord. Even if I tried to let you go, I could not; even if you tried to flee, you could not escape!" He called to the little fiends, "Take that monk and tie him up." And indeed the little fiends surged forward and bound the old monk with ropes and cords, fastening him to the soul-securing post.

The old fiend, holding his knife, asked again, "Monk, how many are in your party? Surely you would not dare go to Heaven's West alone?" Tripitaka, seeing him holding the knife, answered honestly, "Great King, I have two disciples—Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing—who have gone to the pine forest to beg for alms. There is also a load of baggage and a white horse, all left in the pine forest." The old fiend said, "More good fortune! Two disciples, plus you makes three, plus the horse makes four—enough for a meal." The little fiends said, "Let us go and catch them." The old fiend said, "Do not go out. Close the front gate. When those two come back from begging, they will surely look for their master; not finding him, they will surely come looking to our gate. As the saying goes, 'A customer who comes to your door is easy to do business with.' Let us wait and catch them at our leisure." The little fiends closed the front gate.

But let us leave Tripitaka to his calamity for now. Instead, let us tell of Sha Wujing, who had gone out of the forest looking for Bajie, going some ten li or more without finding a single village. He stood on a high mound surveying the area when he heard someone talking in the grass. Quickly he parted the tall grass with his staff to look, and found it was the Fool inside talking in his sleep. Sha Wujing grabbed him by the ear and woke him. He said, "You foolish fool! Master told you to beg for alms—did he give you permission to sleep here?" The Fool, waking up in a daze, said, "Brother, what time is it?" Sha Wujing said, "Get up quickly! Master said whether you found alms or not, we should go find lodging."

The Fool, still half-dazed, took up his alms bowl and gripped his spiked rake, and the two made straight back to the forest. When they arrived, they could not find their master. Sha Wujing scolded him, "It is all because you did not come back from begging—some fiend must have captured Master!" Bajie laughed and said, "Brother, do not talk nonsense. That forest is a peaceful place—there are surely no fiends there. I think the old monk could not sit still and went somewhere to enjoy the scenery. Let us go look for him." The two of them had no choice but to lead the horse, shoulder the load, gather up the cloaks and tin staff, and go out of the pine forest to search for their master.

Now in this instance, it was not Tripitaka's time to die. After searching for a while without finding him, they suddenly saw a flash of golden light to the south. Bajie said, "Brother, blessed are the blessed! Look, Master has gone to that house. That glowing light comes from a precious pagoda—who would dare be negligent? They will surely prepare a vegetarian meal and treat him well there. We should hurry along and get there in time to share some of that food." Sha Wujing said, "Brother, we cannot yet tell good fortune from bad—let us go and see."

The two of them strode up to the gate in high spirits. "Ah! The gate is shut." They saw a white jade stone slab mounted horizontally across the gate, engraved with six large characters: "Wanzi Mountain, Wave-Moon Cave." Sha Wujing said, "Brother, this is no Buddhist temple—it's a demon's cave dwelling. Even if our master is in there, we're in trouble." Zhu Bajie said, "Brother, don't be afraid. Tie up the horse and watch the luggage. Let me go ask about him." The fool raised his rake and called out loudly, "Open the gate! Open the gate!" A little demon who guarded the gate opened it and, upon catching sight of the two of them, hastily withdrew and ran inside to report, "Great King, customers have arrived!" the old demon asked, "Where are these customers?" The little demon said, "Outside the cave gate there is a monk with a long snout and big ears, and another monk with a gloomy complexion, calling at the gate." The old demon was overjoyed and said, "It's Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, who have tracked us down. Well, they can track, can't they? How did they find their way to my gate? Since their looks are fierce, we must not treat him lightly." He called out, "Bring my armor and weapons!" The little demon brought them. He put them on, seized his sword, and strode straight out of the gate.

Now, Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing were waiting at the gate when they saw the demon come forth with fearsome bearing. Observe how he was dressed and armed:

Blue face, red beard, crimson hair flying,

Golden armor gleaming bright.

A waistband of clamshell stone girded his middle,

A cloud-patterned sash bound his chest and armor.

Standing idle before the mountain, the wind howled around him;

Wandering restlessly beyond the seas, waves surged and roared.

A pair of indigo-blue sinewy hands

Grasped the soul-snatching, life-taking blade.

Should you wish to know this creature's name—

He is called by two characters: Yellow Robe.

The old Yellow Robe demon came out through the gate and demanded, "What manner of monks are you, shouting at my gate?" Zhu Bajie said, "My son, don't you recognize me? I am your lord. I am sent by the Great Tang to the Western Heaven. My master is the Imperial Brother Tripitaka. If he is in your house, hand him over quickly, and save me from driving my spiked rake through your gate." The demon laughed and said, "Yes, yes, yes, there is a Tang Monk in my house. I have not treated him badly—I've prepared some human meat dumplings for him to eat. Why don't you come in and have one too?"

The fool was actually about to go in. Sha Wujing grabbed him and said, "Brother, he's tricking you. Since when do you eat human meat?" Only then did the fool come to his senses. He seized his spiked rake and swung it at the demon's face. The creature dodged sideways and raised his steel sword to meet the blow. Both displayed their divine powers, soaring into the clouds to fight in midair. Sha Wujing abandoned the luggage and the white horse, raised his precious staff, and rushed to join the attack. Now two fierce monks and a savage demon engaged in a splendid battle in the clouds:

Staff rose to meet the sword, rake came and sword parried.

One demon-general exerted his might, two divine monks revealed their power.

The nine-toothed rake was truly heroic,

The demon-quelling staff was truly fierce.

They pressed from front, back, left, and right—

Yet Yellow Robe was openly unafraid.

See his dipped-steel sword, bright as silver;

Truly his divine powers were vast.

They fought until the sky was clouded and mist-enshrouded,

Until on the mountainside crags shattered and ridges cracked.

One fought for his reputation and would not yield;

The other fought for his master and feared nothing at all.

The three of them clashed again and again in midair, fighting dozens of rounds without either side gaining the upper hand. Each fought for his life, and truly neither could prevail.

How Tang Seng will be rescued—of that, let the next chapter tell.