Chapter 50

Chapter 50

The verse says:

Sweep the ground of the mind again and again,

Remove the dust of emotion fine by fine.

Do not let the pitfalls ensnare the Vairocana.

When the fundamental substance is always pure and clean,

Then one may speak of the Primordial Beginning.

The candle of nature must be trimmed and tended,

The Caoqi may be breathed in and out freely.

Do not let the breath of the monkey and horse grow coarse.

Day and night, let the breath flow continuously and softly—

Then the true effort is revealed.

This verse, to the tune of "A Dream Under the Southern Bough," tells how the Tang Priest escaped the calamity of the frozen waves of the River That Reaches the Sky, and rode the white turtle to the opposite bank. The four pilgrims, master and disciples, followed the great road and advanced toward the west. It was the depth of winter, and they saw the forest light dim and pale amid the mist, and the bones of the mountains sharp and clear beyond the water.

As the pilgrims were traveling, they suddenly came upon another great mountain blocking the way. The path was narrow and the cliffs high, with many crags and steep ridges—hard for men and horse to pass. Tripitaka reined in his horse and called out, "Disciples!" At once Sun Wukong led Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing forward to stand before him. "Master, what is your command?" Tripitaka said, "Look at that mountain ahead—it is high. I fear tigers and wolves may cause trouble, and demons and beasts may harm us. This time we must be very careful!" Wukong said, "Master, set your mind at ease and do not worry. We three brothers are united in heart and purpose, returning to the true and seeking the real. We have the power to subdue monsters and vanquish demons—what have we to fear from tigers, wolves, or demonic beasts?" Hearing this, Tripitaka had no choice but to put his heart at ease and press forward. When they reached the mouth of the valley, he urged his horse up the cliff and raised his head to look carefully. What a mountain it was:

Towering and jagged, sheer and lofty.

Towering and jagged, piercing the Milky Way;

Sheer and lofty, blocking the blue sky.

Wild rocks piled in confusion like crouching tigers,

Green pines hanging at angles like flying dragons.

On the ridge, birds sang with tender, beautiful tones;

Before the cliff, plum blossoms bloomed with rare, rich fragrance.

The stream water flowed out cold and murmuring,

The clouds atop the peak were dark and menacing as they approached.

And then there was the drifting snow, the biting wind,

And the roar of a starving tiger howling in the mountain.

The cold crows could find no tree to roost in,

The wild deer sought a lair but found no fixed trace.

How pitiful—the travelers could hard advance,

Frowning and downcast, they covered their heads.

The four pilgrims braved the snow and battled the cold, shivering as they crossed the towering, steep ridges. In the distance they saw, in a hollow of the mountain, lofty towers and quiet, secluded dwellings. The Tang Priest, from horseback, said with pleasure, "Disciples, we are hungry and cold from this day's journey, and fortunately there are towers and houses in that hollow. They must surely be a farmhouse or a monastery. Let us go and beg some food, eat, and then be on our way." When Wukong heard this, he opened his eyes wide and looked. He saw only dark, ominous clouds and evil mists swirling there. He turned back to Tripitaka and said, "Master, that place is no good." Tripitaka said, "I can see towers and pavilions—how can it not be good?" Wukong laughed and said, "Master, you do not understand. On the road to the West there are many demons and evil spirits who are skilled at conjuring up houses and estates. They can transform anything—towers, mansions, halls, or pavilions—to deceive people. You know that 'the dragon bore nine kinds,' and among them is one called the *shen*. The *shen* emits a glow that looks like towers and shallow pools. When it encounters a great river in a fog, it manifests this appearance. If birds happen to fly by, they are certain to alight on it. Even if there were thousands or tens of thousands, it would swallow them all in one breath. This is a most dangerous way to harm people. The aura of that place is fierce and evil—you must absolutely not enter."

Tripitaka said, "If we cannot enter, then I am truly very hungry." Wukong said, "If you are truly hungry, please dismount. Sit here on this level ground while I go elsewhere to beg some food for you." Tripitaka dismounted as told. Bajie held the reins. Sha Wujing set down the luggage and opened the bundle, took out the alms bowl, and handed it to Wukong. Wukong took the bowl in his hand and said to Sha Wujing, "Good brother, you must not advance. Protect the Master well and keep him seated here in safety. Wait until I return with the food, and then we will go west." Sha Wujing assented. Wukong then said to Tripitaka, "Master, this place is more ill-omened than fortunate. You must on no account move or go anywhere else. This old monkey is off to beg food." The Tang Priest said, "Say no more—only go quickly and return quickly. I will wait for you here." Wukong turned to go, but then came back again. "Master, I know you have no patience for sitting still. I will give you a way to settle yourself safely." He took his iron staff, gave it one flourish, and drew a circle on the ground all around the level earth. He asked Tripitaka to sit in the center, and had Bajie and Sha Wujing stand guard on either side. He placed the horse and the luggage close by. He pressed his palms together and said to Tripitaka, "This circle this old monkey has drawn is stronger than walls of iron or bronze. No matter what tigers, leopards, wolves, insects, demons, or monsters come, none will dare approach. Only you must not step outside the circle. Sit firmly in the center and you will be safe. But if you step out of the circle, you will surely meet with poison. A thousand times, ten thousand times—take the utmost care!" Tripitaka did as he was told, and master and disciples all sat in stillness.

Wukong leaped into the clouds to seek a village for alms. He traveled south and soon saw ancient trees towering to the sky—it was a village. He descended from the clouds and looked carefully. He saw only:

Snow pressing on the withered willows,

Ice freezing the square pond.

Sparse, slender bamboo swaying green,

Dense, luxuriant pines congealed in jade.

Thatched cottages half sheathed in silver,

A small bridge slanting, plastered in white powder.

By the hedge, narcissus flowers faintly bloomed,

Beneath the eaves, frozen icicles hung long.

The rustling cold wind carried a strange fragrance,

But the snow was too thick to see where the plum blossoms opened.

The Pilgrim strolled along, taking in the scenery of the farmstead, when he heard a creak as the brushwood gate swung open and an old man came out, dragging a staff of goosefoot wood, wearing a sheepskin cape on his head, a tattered robe on his body, and straw sandals on his feet. Leaning on his staff, he looked up toward the sky and said, "The northwest wind is rising—tomorrow will be clear." Before he had finished speaking, a little pug dog came running out from behind, spotted Pilgrim holding his albowl, and began barking furiously. The old man only then turned his head and saw Pilgrim holding the bowl. He pressed his palms together and said, "Old benefactor, this monk of mine is an imperial envoy from the Great Tang in the East, traveling to the West to worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures. Having just passed by your honorable place, my master is hungry, and I have come especially to your household to beg for a vegetarian meal." Upon hearing this, the old man nodded and stamped his staff. "Venerable elder, you'd better not beg for food here. You've taken the wrong road." Pilgrim said, "Not wrong." The old man said, "The main road to the West lies straight north of here. From here it's a thousand miles away—why not go back and find the main road?" Pilgrim laughed and said, "It is indeed straight north. My master is sitting on the main road right now, waiting for me to beg for food." The old man said, "This monk is talking nonsense. If your master is waiting for you on the main road, even if he could walk, it would take six or seven days to cover a thousand miles, and another six or seven days to walk back—wouldn't he starve to death?" Pilgrim laughed and said, "To tell you the truth, old benefactor, I left my master less than the time it takes to drink a cup of hot tea, and I've already arrived here. Now that I've begged for food, I still need to hurry back to prepare the midday meal."

When the old man heard this, fear rose in his heart. "This monk is a ghost, a ghost!" He hastily pulled away and ran inside. Pilgrim grabbed him by the arm. "Where are you going, benefactor? If you have food, give me some quickly." The old man said, "It's not convenient, not convenient—try another house." Pilgrim said, "You really don't know how to handle things, benefactor. You say I'm a thousand miles from here—if I go to another house, won't that be another thousand miles? You'd truly starve my master to death." The old man said, "To tell you honestly, there are six or seven mouths in my family, and we've only washed three pecks of rice to cook—it's not even done yet. Go somewhere else and come back later." Pilgrim said, "The ancients said, 'Visiting three households is not as good as sitting in one.' This poor monk will wait right here." Seeing that Pilgrim was persistent, the old man grew angry and raised his goosefoot staff to strike him. Pilgrim stood there unafraid and let the old man hit him seven or eight times on his bald head, feeling as though he were being tickled. The old man said, "This is a monk with an iron head." Pilgrim laughed and said, "Old fellow, hit me all you like—just keep a clear count of the blows: one blow for one peck of rice, and measure it out slowly."

When the old man heard this, he hastily dropped his staff, ran inside, and slammed the door shut, shouting, "There's a ghost, a ghost!" The whole family was thrown into a panic and trembled with fear, closing both the front and back doors.

Seeing that he had closed the door, Pilgrim thought to himself, "This old rascal just said he was washing rice to cook—I don't know if that's true or false. As the saying goes, 'The Way converts the worthy, the Buddha converts the foolish.' Let old Sun take a look inside." The great sage formed a secret sign with his fingers, used his art of invisible escape, and went straight into the kitchen to look. Sure enough, the pot was steaming, half a pot of dry rice cooking inside. He plunged his bowl into it and scooped out a full bowlful, then mounted the clouds and flew back—but no more of that.

Now let us speak of Tripitaka, who sat within the circle waiting a long time, with Pilgrim still not returning. He sat up and gazed out anxiously. "Where has that monkey gone to beg for food?" Zhu Bajie laughed from the side. "Who knows where he's gone off to amuse himself? What food is he begging for, making us sit here in a prison?" Tripitaka said, "What do you mean by a prison?" Bajie said, "Master, you really don't know. The ancients drew a circle on the ground to serve as a prison. He drew a circle with his staff—stronger than walls of iron or bronze. If tigers, wolves, or demons were to come, how could we stop them? We'd just have to offer ourselves up to be eaten." Tripitaka said, "Wuneng, what do you suggest we do?" Bajie said, "This place doesn't shelter us from the wind or keep us warm. If you ask old Pig, we should just follow the road and head west. When Wukong has begged for food and mounted the clouds, he'll surely come quickly—let him catch up. If there's food, we'll eat and then go on. We've been sitting here so long, and my feet are getting cold!"

When Tripitaka heard these words, it was as if the star of bad luck had arrived. He followed the fool's suggestion, and they all stepped outside the circle. Bajie led the horse, Sha Wujing shouldered the load, and the elder walked along the road. Before long, they arrived at a building—it turned out to be a house facing south. Outside the gate was a whitewashed wall in the shape of the character for "eight," with a gatehouse adorned with an inverted lotus design, all decorated in five colors. The door was half open and half closed. Bajie tied the horse to the stone drum beside the door; Wujing set down his load; and Tripitaka, fearing the wind, sat on the threshold. Bajie said, "Master, this place looks like the residence of a duke or marquis, the home of a high official. There's no one at the front gate—they must all be inside warming themselves by the fire. You all sit here while I go in and take a look." Tripitaka said, "Be careful—don't offend anyone." The fool said, "I know. Ever since I converted to the Chan school, I've learned a bit of manners—I'm not some crude country bumpkin anymore."

The idiot tucked his rake into his waist, straightened his blue brocade robe, and walked in with a refined, scholarly air. He found himself in a three-room great hall with curtains drawn high—quiet and deserted, with no sign of tables, chairs, or household furnishings. Passing through the screen door and going further in, he came to a corridor. Behind the corridor stood a large building, its windows half-open, and through them he could faintly make out a top of yellow silk bed curtains. The idiot said, "Someone must be cold and still sleeping." Without distinguishing between inner and outer quarters, he strode straight up the stairs. When he pushed the curtains aside and looked, the idiot was so frightened he nearly fell backward. Inside the bed curtains, on an ivory couch, lay a pile of ghastly white bones—a skull as large as a bushel basket, leg bones four or five feet long. The idiot steadied himself, but could not stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. He nodded at the skull and sighed:

"You, I know not of what dynasty a marshal's frame,

Nor what great kingdom bred this mighty general's name.

In those days heroes strove for glory and for might,

Now bleached and bare your bones lie pitiful in sight.

No wife or child attends you with their tender care,

No soldier burns incense for your spirit here.

To gaze on this is truly cause for sigh and moan—

Alas, the man who built a kingdom and a throne!"

Just as Bajie was sighing in lament, he saw a flicker of firelight behind the bed curtains. The idiot said, "There must be someone tending incense and offerings back there." He quickly stepped around the bed curtains to look—it was merely light coming through the corridor windows. Against the far wall stood a painted lacquer table, on which were carelessly draped several pieces of brocade and silk garments. Bajie picked them up and found they were three padded brocade vests.

He gave no thought to whether it was right or wrong. He carried them downstairs, out of the hall, and straight to the gate, where he said, "Master, there's no one here at all—it's a dwelling of the dead. I went inside and climbed all the way to the high building, where inside the yellow silk bed curtains there was a pile of bones. By the corridor I found three padded brocade vests and took them—a bit of fortune for us on this journey. It's cold now, and they'll come in handy. Master, take off your outer robe and wear one underneath. It'll keep you warm and comfortable." Tripitaka said, "No, no! The precepts say, 'Whether taken openly or stolen in secret, it is all theft.' If someone finds out and pursues us, we'll be brought before the authorities and charged with theft without question. Take them back and put them where you found them. We'll shelter here from the wind and sit a while, then wait for Wukong to return before we continue. A monk must not be so petty as to covet such things." Bajie said, "There's no one around—not even a chicken or dog knows about it. Only we are aware, and who would accuse us? What evidence would there be? It's as though we simply found them. Why talk of taking openly or stealing in secret?" Tripitaka said, "You act recklessly! Though no man knows, how can you hide it from Heaven? The Dark Emperor himself left this teaching: 'Even in a darkened room, a guilty conscience is seen by the gods as clearly as lightning.' Take them back at once. Do not covet what is not rightfully yours."

The idiot had no intention of listening. He smiled at Tang Monk and said, "Master, I've been a man for a while now and have worn vests before, but never ones of such fine padded brocade. If you won't wear one, let me try it on—see how it feels, warm up my back a bit. When Senior Brother comes, I'll take it off and we'll be on our way." Sha Wujing said, "If that's the case, I'll wear one too." The two of them both took off their upper robes and pulled the vests on. But no sooner had they tightened the sashes than, for some reason, they could not stand upright—they crashed to the ground. These vests turned out to be like manacles; in an instant, the two of them were bound hand and back, arms pinned tight against their bodies. Tripitaka stamped his foot in distress and hurried to untie them, but there was no way to loosen the bonds. The three of them cried out without cease, and their clamor soon alarmed the demon lord.

It turned out that the building had indeed been conjured by a demon, who used it to catch people there every day. He was sitting in his cave when suddenly he heard sounds of distress. He hurried out to look and saw several people bound there. The demon called to his little demons, and together they went over there, withdrawing the illusion of the building and houses. They seized Tripitaka, led the white horse, picked up the luggage, and carried Bajie and Sha Wujing back to the cave. The old demon took his seat on a high platform, and the little demons pushed Tripitaka to the edge of the platform, where he knelt face down. The demon asked, "What region are you monks from? How dare you be so bold as to steal my clothes in broad daylight?" Tripitaka wept and replied, "This poor monk is an emissary from the Great Tang in the East, journeying to the West to seek the scriptures. Because I was hungry, I sent my eldest disciple to beg for food, and he has not yet returned. I did not follow his instructions and mistakenly wandered into your immortal hall to shelter from the wind. I never expected my two disciples to be so petty as to take out those garments. This monk would never entertain such a wicked thought—I told them to return the things to where they found them. They would not listen to me and wanted to wear them to warm their backs. I did not anticipate falling into the Great King's trap and being captured. I earnestly beg your mercy to spare my wretched life so that I may obtain the true scriptures and forever inscribe the Great King's kindness, to be celebrated for ages when I return to the East."

The demon laughed and said, "I have often heard it said that anyone who eats a piece of flesh from the monk Tang will have white hair turn black and lost teeth grow anew. Fortunately, today you have come to me uninvited—and still you expect me to spare you! What is the name of your eldest disciple, and where did he go to beg for food?" Bajie, hearing this, immediately spoke up in praise: "My senior brother is Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, who caused havoc in the Celestial Palace five hundred years ago!"

When the demon heard that it was Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, he was somewhat alarmed. He said nothing aloud but thought to himself, "I have long heard that fellow possesses vast supernatural powers—I never expected to encounter him here." He commanded: "Little ones, bind the monk Tang. Take the treasures off the other two, get two ropes, and bind them as well. Carry them to the back. I will capture their eldest disciple, and then I'll steam the lot of them together." The little demons acknowledged the order and bound all three of them, then carried them to the back. They tethered the white horse at the trough and brought the luggage inside. All the demons sharpened their weapons, preparing to capture the Pilgrim—but of this, no more for now.

Now Sun Wukong had taken a bowl of vegetarian offerings from a household in Nanzhuang village, and riding his cloud, he retraced his path. When he reached the level spot on the hillside and lowered his cloud, he found Tang Seng already gone—no one knew where. The circle his staff had drawn was still there, but the master and horse had both vanished. He looked back at the towers and buildings he had seen before—they too were gone, nothing but strange rocks at the foot of the mountain remained. Wukong's heart clenched. "No need to say more," he thought. "They must have fallen into that villain's hands!" He quickly followed the horse's hoofprints, hurrying west.

After traveling five or six li, just as grief was welling up within him, he heard voices from beyond the northern slope. Looking, he saw an old man—a felt robe covering his body, a warm hat over his head, wearing a pair of oilskin boots half new and half old, carrying a dragon-head walking stick. Behind him followed a young servant boy carrying a branch of winter plum blossoms, singing as they came along the slope. Wukong set down his bowl, stepped forward, and made a greeting. "Old grandfather, this poor monk greets you." The old man returned the courtesy at once. "Where have you come from, elder?" Wukong said, "We come from the Eastern Land, traveling to the West to worship Buddha and obtain the scriptures—a party of master and three disciples. Because my master was hungry, I went to beg for food and told the three of them to wait on that level spot of the hillside. When I returned, they were gone, and I don't know which road they took. May I ask, grandfather, have you seen them?" Upon hearing this, the old man laughed coldly. "Among those three, was there one with a long mouth and big ears?" Wukong said, "Yes, yes, yes." "And another with a sullen face, leading a white horse and escorting a fair-skinned fat monk?" Wukong said, "That's right, that's right." The old man said, "You've gone the wrong way. Don't look for them—every man for himself!" Wukong said, "The fair-skinned one is my master, and the strange-looking one is my fellow disciple. We set out with the same pious heart to obtain the scriptures in the West. How could I not look for them?" The old man said, "I just passed by here and saw them take the wrong path—they've walked right into a demon's mouth." Wukong said, "Please, grandfather, tell me—what kind of demon is it? Where does it dwell? I'll go to its door and demand them back, so we can continue west." The old man said, "This mountain is called Jindoushan. In front of the mountain is a cave called Jindou Cave, and in that cave dwells the One-Horned Rhinoceros King. That king's divine powers are vast, his might formidable. Those three are certainly done for this time. If you go looking for them, I fear even you won't be safe. Better not to go. I dare not stop you, and I dare not keep you—the decision is yours to weigh in your heart."

Wukong bowed again in thanks. "I am much obliged for your guidance. How could I not search for them?" He poured out the food offerings to the old man and kept the empty bowl for himself. The old man set down his walking stick, took the bowl, and handed it to the servant boy. Then he revealed his true form, and both of them knelt and kowtowed. "Great Sage, this humble deity dares not conceal anything. We are the Mountain God and the Earth God of this mountain, waiting here to receive the Great Sage. We will keep this food and the bowl, so the Great Sage may travel light and better exercise his powers. When you rescue Tang Seng from his ordeal, return this food to him—that will show the Great Sage's utmost devotion and filial piety." Wukong shouted, "You furry ghost, asking for a beating! Since you knew I was coming, why didn't you greet me at once? Why hide and skulk about like this? What sort of behavior is that?" The Earth God said, "The Great Sage is impatient. This humble deity did not dare act rashly, fearing to offend your august countenance, so I concealed my form to deliver the message." Wukong calmed his anger. "I'll let the beating slide for now. Take good care of that bowl for me while I go capture that demon." The Earth God and Mountain God obeyed.

The Great Sage then tightened his tiger-sinew sash, hiked up his tiger-skin skirt, gripped his golden-banded staff, and strode straight toward the mountain to find the demon's cave. Rounding a cliff, he saw jagged rocks scattered about and two stone doors set in a verdant cliffside, with many little demons outside brandishing spears and swords. Truly it was:

Mists and clouds gathered auspicious light; mosses and lichens piled in green. Jagged rocks stood in rows; winding paths twisted and turned. The cries of apes and birds made the scenery lovely; phoenixes and simurghs soared as if in fairyland. Facing the sun, several plum trees had just begun to bloom; bathed in warmth, a thousand bamboo stalks were green of their own accord. Below the steep cliff, within the deep ravine—below the steep cliff snow piled like powder, within the deep ravine water had frozen to ice. Two groves of pines and cypresses had flourished for a thousand years; several clusters of camellia bloomed in the same red.

The Great Sage gazed his fill, then strode up to the gate and shouted in a stern, loud voice: "You little demons, go in quickly and tell your cave master that I am Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, disciple of the Tang Dynasty's holy monk. Tell him to send my master out at once, or I'll spare none of your lives!"

The band of little demons rushed into the cave and reported: "Your Majesty, there is a monk outside with a hairy face and hooked mouth who calls himself Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. He's come to demand his master." When the demon king heard this, he was overjoyed. "I was just hoping he would come! Ever since I left my original palace and descended to the mortal world, I've never had a chance to test my martial skills. Now that he's here, he'll surely be a worthy opponent!" He ordered the little demons to bring out his weapons. The demons great and small in the cave all bristled with energy, and at once they carried out a twelve-foot steel-tipped spear and handed it to the old monster. The old monster passed down the order: "Little ones, all of you must be in good order! Those who advance will be rewarded; those who retreat will be put to death!" The demons received the command and followed the old monster out through the gate. "Which one is Sun Wukong?" they called out.

Wukong stepped aside and looked, and saw that the demon king was fearsome indeed:

His horns were uneven and strange, his twin eyes blazing bright. His scalp was rough and knotted, the black flesh about his ears gleaming. His long tongue would curl into his nostrils, his wide mouth revealed yellow teeth set in broad gums. His hide was blue as indigo, his sinews hard as steel. He was no rhinoceros that could see its reflection in water, no ox that tilled the wild fields. He had no use for panting at the moon or plowing the clouds, yet he had the strength to defy Heaven and shake the earth. His two hands were sinewy and blue as indigo, his mighty form upright as a steel-pointed spear. Look closely at such a ferocious appearance—indeed, he well deserved the name King of the Rhinoceros Demon.

The Great Sage Sun stepped forward and said, "Your Grandfather Sun is here! Return my master quickly, and neither of us shall suffer harm. If you utter even half a word of 'no,' I shall see to it that you die without a burial place!" The demon roared, "You audacious, insolent monkey spirit! What abilities do you possess that you dare make such grand claims?" Pilgrim Sun said, "You wretched creature! You have never seen the abilities of old Sun." The demon said, "Your master stole my garments—I truly have seized him, and now I intend to steam and eat him. What manner of hero are you, that you dare come to my gate to demand his return?" Pilgrim Sun said, "My master is a loyal and upright monk—how could he steal any demonic possession of yours?" The demon said, "I conjured a celestial manor by the mountain road, and your master slipped inside, his heart seized with lust and desire. He stole and put on his body my three vests of brocade and soft silk. Here is the evidence of his crime, and that is why I seized him. If you truly have abilities, then match your strength with mine: if you can withstand me for three rounds, I will spare your master's life; if you cannot, I will send you straight to the Yellow Springs."

Pilgrim Sun laughed and said, "Wretched creature! Waste no more words—matching strength suits old Sun's wishes perfectly. Come forward and taste my staff!" The monster feared no contest whatsoever; he leveled his steel spear and rushed to meet him. What a splendid battle! Behold:

The Golden-Hooped Staff was raised, the long spear advanced to meet it. The Golden-Hooped Staff was raised—bright and flashing like a golden serpent darting with lightning; the long spear advanced—gleaming and brilliant like a dragon leaving the black sea. The little demons before the gate beat their drums, arraying their ranks to bolster their might; on this side the Great Sage exerted his power, displaying his skill in every direction. On his side, one spear—vigorous and spirited; on my side, one staff—peerless martial arts. Truly, heroes encounter heroes, and worthy opponents meet worthy opponents. The demon king spat purple mist and coiling smoke from his mouth; the Great Sage's eyes shot forth radiance and gathered brocade clouds. All because the Tang monk was in distress, the two sides contended bitterly without mercy.

They had fought for thirty rounds with neither gaining the upper hand. The demon king observed that Sun Wukong's staff technique was precise and orderly, each advance and retreat without the slightest flaw. Delighted, he cried out repeatedly, "Splendid monkey! Splendid monkey! Truly this is the ability that stirred up the Heavenly Palace!" The Great Sun also admired that his spear technique was unflustered, parrying right and blocking left with great skill, and he too called out, "Splendid demon! Splendid demon! Truly you are a demon who stole the elixir." The two fought another twenty rounds or so, when the demon king touched the tip of his spear to the ground and ordered the little demons to attack together. Those wretched creatures, each wielding swords and staves, brandishing spears and halberds, surrounded the Great Sage Sun in their midst. Pilgrim Sun showed no fear whatsoever, but only cried, "Well done! Well done! This suits my wishes perfectly!" He wielded his single Golden-Hooped Staff, meeting attacks from before and behind, blocking from the east and fending off from the west. That band of demons could not think of retreating. Pilgrim Sun could not contain his impatience; he hurled the Golden-Hooped Staff into the air and shouted, "Transform!" It immediately changed into a thousand or a hundred iron staffs, just like flying serpents and darting pythons, raining down chaotically through the sky. When the demons beheld this, each and every one of them had their souls scattered and their spirits fled; they covered their necks and tucked their heads, all fleeing for their lives back into the cave. The old demon king said with a cold, sneering laugh, "That monkey, have some respect—watch my abilities!" He quickly drew from his sleeve a bright, gleaming, white, and chilling ring, hurled it into the air, and cried, "Strike!" With a great whoosh, it gathered the Golden-Hooped Staff into a single rod and swept it away. This left the Great Sun Sage empty-handed; he turned a somersault and fled to save his life. The demon returned victorious to his cave, while Pilgrim Sun was dazed and at a loss. And so it was:

The Way rises one foot, the demon rises ten.

With nature confused and passion darkened, he mistook his home.

Alas, the dharma body had no seat—

At that moment, his actions and his thoughts had both gone astray.

How this matter would ultimately turn out, we shall hear in the next chapter.