第072回

Chapter 72

The story tells that the Tang Priest took leave of the King of Zhuzi and put his horse in order to advance westward. They passed over countless mountains and plains, traversed innumerable waterways, and before they knew it autumn had gone and winter was drawing to a close, and then the bright beauty of spring was upon them. The master and disciples were walking along the road enjoying the scenery when they suddenly saw a nunnery. The Tang Priest dismounted from his saddle and stood by the side of the highway. Pilgrim asked, "Master, this road is smooth and level—why aren't you going along it?" Pigsy said, "Brother, you're being most unreasonable. The Master has been sitting on his horse and getting tired—let him come down for a breath of air." The Tang Priest said, "It's not for a breath of air. I can see a house over there, and I intend to go and beg some food myself." Pilgrim laughed and said, "Listen to the Master! If you want food, I'll go and beg it. As the saying goes, 'Be a teacher for a day and a father for a lifetime.' How can a disciple sit high up while his master goes begging for food?" The Tang Priest said, "That's not what I mean. On ordinary days when there's nothing in sight for miles around, you all go off to beg food far and near. Today there's a house close by where we can call out to them—let me go and beg some food too." Pigsy said, "The Master has no sense of what's right. As the saying goes, 'When three go out together, the youngest suffers.' You are the father, and we are all disciples. The ancient books say, 'When there is work to be done, the disciples should do the toil.' Let old Pig go." The Tang Priest said, "My disciple, today the weather is fine and clear—it's different from when there's wind and rain. In those times you would certainly have to go far. As for this house, let me go—whether they give food or not, I can come straight back and we can be on our way." Sandy laughed from the side and said, "Brother, there's no need to argue. The Master's mind is made up—don't go against it. If you annoy him and he goes to beg food, he won't eat it even if he gets it."

Pigsy did as he was told, took out the alms bowl, and changed clothes with him. He strode off straight to the farmstead to take a look, and it was indeed a fine place. He could see:

A lofty stone bridge and ancient trees growing thick. The lofty stone bridge joined a long stream with its gurgling waters; the ancient trees growing thick echoed with the chattering of birds from distant peaks. Beyond the bridge were several thatched cottages, pure and elegant like an immortal's retreat; and there too was a latticed window, white and bright, rivaling a Taoist temple. At the window four lovely women were suddenly seen, all there embroidering phoenixes and drawing mandarin ducks as they did their needlework.

The old priest saw that there were no men in the house, only four women, and did not dare to go in. He stood where he was, hidden beneath a tall grove of trees. He could see that each of the women was:

Chaste of heart as stone, with an orchid nature rejoicing like spring.

Their pretty faces set off by rosy clouds, their vermilion lips evenly rouged.

Their moth-like brows curved small as the moon, their cicada-shaped tresses piled fresh as clouds.

If they stood among flowers, wandering bees would mistake them for the real thing.

After waiting for half an hour, everything became utterly still—not a sound from cock or dog. He thought to himself, "If I can't manage to beg a meal, my disciples will laugh at me too: they'll say that if the master can't beg food, how can the disciples go to worship the Buddha?"

The old priest could think of nothing to do, and felt somewhat at fault. He walked quickly onto the bridge. After going a few more steps, he saw that inside the thatched cottage there was a clove-scented pavilion, and under the pavilion there were three women kicking an inflated ball. Look at those three women—they were even more different from the four. He could see that:

Their emerald sleeves fluttered, their pale yellow skirts swayed. The emerald sleeves fluttered, low over their slender, jade-white fingers; the pale yellow skirts swayed, half revealing their narrow golden lotus feet. Their figures and bearing were complete in every way, their feet showing a thousand different movements as they moved. They tossed the ball high and low, sending it out in true form and proper style. Turning, they kicked a flower over the wall; stepping back, they turned it into a great crossing of the sea. Gently they received a ball of clay; with a single lance they met it quickly. A precious pearl upon the Buddha's head—they pinched it with pointed boots. They were clever at catching narrow bricks; they lay like fish and pushed with their feet. They bent their waists, folded their knees, and crouched; they twisted their necks and raised their heels. They could make noise by kicking a bench; their draped shoulders were most free and easy. They moved freely at the crotch, their necks following the sway. They kicked as though the Yellow River were flowing backwards, buying at the Golden Fish Shoal. One mistook it for the head, the other turned and struck with a kick. Solemnly they held it up to the calf; squarely they came to pinch it with a point. They lifted their heels and splashed at straw sandals; they turned back and picked them up upside down. Stepping back they adorned their shoulders with the ball—the hook was just one move. They came down from the basket long, then snatched it and kicked at the gate. When they kicked to the height of beauty, the lovely women all applauded. Each of them, sweat flowing through powdery skin and soaking their silk garments, only called out when their energy flagged and their spirits grew lazy.

Words cannot fully describe it, and there is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

Kicking the ball on the ground in the third month of spring,

Immortal breezes blew down pure maidens.

Sweat soaked their powdered faces, flowers holding dew;

Dust stained their moth-like brows, willows trailing mist.

Emerald sleeves hung low over jade fingers,

Pale yellow skirts swayed sideways, revealing golden lotus feet.

After kicking several times, too weak to continue,

Their cloud-like tresses were disheveled, their jeweled hairpins askew.

The Tang Priest watched for so long that he had no choice but to walk up onto the bridge and call out loudly, "Ladies, this poor monk is here to beg for food in the Buddhist way." When the women heard this, they joyfully threw down their needlework, abandoned their ball, and all came out smiling and singing to greet him. "Old priest, we failed to welcome you. Coming to this humble farmstead, we would never dare to refuse food to a traveling monk—please come inside and sit down." When the Tang Priest heard this, he thought to himself, "How good, how good! The West is indeed the land of the Buddha. Even women are so devoted to giving food to monks—how much more must men be devoted to the Buddha?"

The old priest bowed and followed the women into the thatched cottage. When he passed the clove-scented pavilion and looked inside—ah!—there were no corridors there at all. He could see only:

Lofty mountain peaks and far-reaching underground veins. The lofty mountain peaks joined the mist and clouds; the far-reaching underground veins connected to the seas and mountains. The gate was near the stone bridge, where water wound in nine bends and nine curves; the garden was planted with peach and plum trees, thousands upon thousands of them vying in lush splendor. Wisteria and fig vines hung from three or five trees; the fragrance of orchids scattered from countless flowers. Viewed from afar, the cave dwelling surpassed Penglai Isle; seen up close, the mountain woods overshadowed Mount Taihua. Truly this was a place where immortals in disguise sought seclusion, with no neighbors, standing alone as a household.

A woman stepped forward and pushed open the two stone doors, inviting the elder to sit inside. The venerable one had no choice but enter. Suddenly raising his head, he saw that everything was set out with stone tables and stone benches, and a cold, gloomy chill pervaded the place. The elder's heart trembled, and he thought to himself: "This place bodes more ill than good. It is certainly no wholesome spot." The women, all smiling and cheerful, said in unison: "Please, venerable elder, sit down." The elder had no recourse but to sit. Before long, a shiver ran through him. The women asked: "From what precious mountain does the elder come? What alms does he seek? Is it to build bridges and repair roads, to erect temples and worship pagodas, or to carve Buddha images and print sutras? Let us see your alms ledger." The elder said: "I am not a monk seeking alms." The woman said: "If you are not seeking alms, what business brings you here?" The elder said: "I am sent by the Great Tang of the East to the Great Thunder Monastery in the West to seek the sutras. Passing through your precious region, I am hungry and famished. I have come to your honorable residence to beg for a meal, and then I shall be on my way." The women said: "Very good, very good! As the saying goes: 'A monk from afar recites the sutras more beautifully.' Sisters, we must not be remiss. Quickly prepare a meal."

At this point, three of the women stayed to keep him company, chatting back and forth about matters of karmic affinity. The other four went into the kitchen, rolling up their sleeves and tucking in their garments, to build fires and scrub pots. What do you suppose they prepared? It was human oil used for frying, and human flesh for stewing: the blackened, charred stuff was made to look like wheat gluten, and scooped-out human brains were fried into pieces resembling tofu. Two plates of this were carried to the stone table and set before the elder. They said: "Please, eat. In our haste, we were unable to prepare a proper meal. Please make do with this for now to fill your stomach. There will be more to follow." The elder caught a whiff and saw the foul, greasy stench. He dared not open his mouth. He leaned forward, pressed his palms together, and said: "Bodhisattvas, I have been a vegetarian since before birth." The women laughed and said: "Venerable elder, these are vegetarian." The elder said: "Amida Buddha! If this is what you call vegetarian, then if I, a monk, ate it, I could never hope to see the World-Honored One or obtain the sutras." The women said: "Venerable elder, as a monk who has left the household life, you must not be choosy about who gives alms." The elder said: "How could I? How could I? I, a monk, bearing the mandate of the Great Tang, have traveled all the way west. I have not harmed the smallest living creature; I have rescued all who suffer. When I encounter a grain of rice, I pick it up with my fingers and put it in my mouth; when I find a thread, I join them together to cover my body. How could I be choosy about my benefactors?" The women laughed and said: "Though the elder is not choosy about who gives alms, he is rather rude to those who come to his door. Do not disdain our humble fare—eat a little." The elder said: "Truly, I dare not eat it, for fear of breaking my precepts. I beg you, Bodhisattvas, that nurturing life is not as good as releasing life. Let me, this monk, go."

The elder struggled to leave, but the woman blocked the door and would not let him pass. They all said: "A customer who comes to our door, and we let him go? 'Let out a fart and then cover it with your hand'—where do you think you're going?" Each of them knew some martial arts, and their hands and feet were quick and nimble. They seized the elder, and like leading a lamb by the hand, threw him to the ground with a crash. The crowd held him down, bound him with ropes, and hoisted him high from the beam. This method of hanging had a name: "The Immortal Points the Way." One hand was pulled forward and suspended by a silk cord; the other arm was bound around the waist and hoisted by a rope; both feet were pulled backward and suspended by a single rope: three ropes held the elder hanging from the beam, with his back facing upward and his belly facing downward. The elder endured the pain, choked back his tears, and inwardly lamented: "What a wretched fate is mine, this monk's! I thought I had come to a good household to beg a meal, never dreaming I had fallen into a fiery pit. My disciples! Come quickly and save me, and we may yet meet again. But if you are two hours late, my life is done."

Though the elder suffered greatly, he still kept his eyes on the women. Once they had him properly hung up, they began to undress him. The elder's heart trembled, and he thought to himself: "Once they strip my clothes, they will want to toy with me. Or perhaps they want to eat me raw." As it turned out, the women only removed their upper garments, baring their bellies, and each displayed her supernatural power: from the waist of each, silk cords emerged, as thick as duck eggs, gushing forth like spurting jade and flying silver. In an instant, the whole village gate was covered—but no more of this for now.

Now let us speak of the Pilgrim, Bajie, and Shaseng, who were all by the side of the great road. The two of them were tending the horse and watching the loads, but the Pilgrim, being mischievous by nature, had climbed a tree to pluck branches, pick leaves, and search for fruit. Suddenly he turned and saw a flash of light. Alarmed, he jumped down from the tree and shouted: "Bad, bad! Our master's luck has run low." The Pilgrim pointed and said: "Look at that manor—what do you see?" Bajie and Shaseng looked together. The whole area was as bright as snow and white as snow, as gleaming as silver and shining as silver. Bajie said: "It's over, it's over! Our master has run into a demon. We must hurry to save him." The Pilgrim said: "Good brother, don't shout. You don't know what's happening. Let old Sun go and see." Shaseng said: "Brother, be careful." The Pilgrim said: "I know what I'm doing."

The great Sage gathered up his tiger-skin skirt, pulled out his golden-banded staff, strode forward with two or three quick steps, and saw that the silk cords were wound a thousand layers thick, crossing and weaving like warp and woof. He pressed them with his hand and found them sticky and clinging. The Pilgrim had no idea what they were. He raised his staff and said: "With one blow of this staff, I could smash through not just a thousand layers, but even ten thousand." But just as he was about to strike, he paused and said: "If it were hard, I could smash it. But this is soft—I could only flatten it. If I startle them and they entangle old Sun instead, that would be no good. Let me ask them a few questions first, and then strike."

Who do you suppose he called upon? He made a mudra, recited a spell, and summoned the local earth god, who spun around inside his temple like a millstone. The old earth goddess said, "Old man, why are you spinning around like that? It looks as though you've got the dancing madness." The earth god said, "You don't know, you don't know. A Great Sage Equal to Heaven has arrived. I didn't go out to greet him, and now he's summoning me here." The goddess said, "Then go and see him. Why spin around here?" The earth god said, "If I go to see him, that staff of his is terribly heavy. He'll hit you no matter who you are." The goddess said, "Seeing how old you are, how could he possibly strike you?" The earth god said, "All his life he's loved to drink for free, and he especially likes to beat old people." After the old couple had talked for some time, they had no choice but to go out. Trembling with fear, they knelt by the road and cried out, "Great Sage, the local earth god of this region kowtows to you." Wukong said, "Get up. Don't put on such a show. I won't hit you—not yet. I'll hold it over you for now. Tell me, what place is this?" The earth god said, "Which direction did the Great Sage come from?" Wukong said, "I'm traveling from the east toward the west." The earth god said, "As the Great Sage came from the east, did you pass through that mountain ridge?" Wukong said, "I was just on that ridge. Our luggage and horses are still resting there, aren't they!" The earth god said, "That's called Coiled-Silk Ridge. Below the ridge is a cave called Coiled-Silk Cave. Inside the cave there are seven demons." Wukong said, "Are they male or female demons?" The earth god said, "They're female." Wukong said, "How great are their powers?" The earth god said, "My divine power is meager and my reach is short—I don't know how powerful they are. All I know is that to the due south, about three miles from here, there is a Bath of Filth, a natural hot spring that was originally the bathing pool of the Seven Heavenly Fairy Maidens. Ever since these demons came to dwell here, they've occupied the Bath of Filth, and the fairy maidens haven't contested it—they simply yielded it to them without a fight. When I see that celestial immortals don't provoke demons and monsters, I know the creature must have tremendous ability." Wukong said, "What's the significance of their occupying this spring?" The earth god said, "These demons have taken over the bathing pool. Three times a day they come out to bathe. It's already past the hour of the serpent, and the hour of the horse is approaching." Wukong listened and said, "Earth god, you may return. I'll capture them myself." The old earth god kowtowed once and trembled all the way back to his temple.

The Great Sage now displayed his divine powers alone. He shook his body and transformed into a speckled bluebottle fly, alighting on a blade of grass by the roadside to wait. Before long, he heard sounds of breathing and panting, like silkworms eating leaves, or like the tide rising in the sea. After about the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, the silk threads were all gone, and a village farmhouse appeared once more, just as it had been before. Then he heard the creak of a wicker gate, and from within came laughter and chatter as seven women came out. Wukong watched them closely from the shadows. He saw them walking arm in arm, shoulder to shoulder, holding each other's sleeves, talking and laughing as they crossed the bridge—truly beautiful. Observe:

More fragrant than jade, more real than flowers.

Willow brows arched like distant peaks,

Sandalwood-red lips parting cherry buds.

Hairpins topped with kingfishers,

Golden lotus feet flashing beneath crimson skirts.

Just as if Chang'e had descended from the heavens,

Or an immortal maiden had fallen to the mortal world.

Wukong laughed and said, "No wonder my master wanted to beg for alms here—it's because of such fine goods. These seven beauties—if they were to detain my master, he wouldn't be enough for a single meal, nor enough for two days of use. If they took turns, one round of it would finish him. Let me go and listen to them for a while, and see what scheme they're hatching."

The fine Great Sage buzzed once and flew to alight on the cloud-shaped topknot of the woman walking in front. They had just crossed the bridge when the ones behind called out, "Sister, let's bathe, and then go steam that fat monk for a meal!" Wukong laughed to himself, "These creatures have no sense at all. Boiling would save firewood—why do they want to steam him instead?" The women picked flowers and played at the game of gathering herbs, heading south. Before long they arrived at the bathing pool. There stood a gatehouse, magnificent and imposing. Wild flowers bloomed in profusion all around, and orchids grew thick and lush on every side. One of the women at the back came forward, gave a whistle, and pushed open the two doors. Sure enough, inside there was a pool of hot water. This water:

Since the creation of the world, the Solar Star originally had ten, but later the skilled archer Yi shot down nine of the crows, which fell to earth. Only one Golden Crow remained—the true fire of the sun. In the universe there are nine hot springs, all transformed from those crows. The nine hot springs are the Fragrant Cold Spring, the Companion Mountain Spring, the Warm Spring, the Eastern Confluence Spring, the Huang Mountain Spring, the Filial Peace Spring, the Guangfen Spring, the Tang Spring—and this spring is the Bath of Filth.

There is a poem as evidence. The poem says:

One breath without winter or summer,

Three autumns eternally pouring forth spring.

Fiery waves seethe as in a cauldron,

Snow-white billows fresh as boiling water.

The branching streams nourish the crops,

The stilling currents cleanse the dust of the world.

Drop by drop, pearl-like tears overflow,

Surging and rolling, jade-like moisture springs forth.

Its smoothness comes not from brewing,

Its clarity and peace warm themselves.

Auspicious and elegant by nature's endowment,

Its creation is the work of heaven's truth.

Where the fair ones bathe, their icy-smooth skin glides,

Washing away worldly troubles, their jade-like bodies renewed.

The bathing pool was about fivezhang wide and more than tenzhang long, with a depth of fourchi. The water was perfectly clear all the way to the bottom. From below, bubbles rose like rolling pearls and jade, gushing upward. On all four sides there were six or seven openings through which the water flowed. It streamed for about two or three miles before reaching the fields, and even there the water was still warm. Above the pool stood three pavilion rooms. Inside the pavilion, near the back wall, was placed an eight-legged bench. On both sides of the pavilion stood two painted and lacquered clothes racks. The Great Secretly delighted, flew with a single wing, and alighted on top of one of the clothes racks.

The women, seeing the water was both clear and hot, were eager to bathe. They all took off their clothes, hung them on the racks, and went in together. Wukong watched them:

They loosened their buttons,

Untied their silk sashes.

Her snow-white bosom gleamed like silver, her jade body was pure as snow. Her arms and elbows rivaled frozen slabs of ice, her fragrant shoulders seemed molded from powdered chalk. Her belly was soft and pliant, her back gleaming and clean beneath the light. Her knees and wrists were round and full, her golden lotus feet a narrow three inches. And in between, a certain amorous sight was revealed—the lascivious cleft laid bare.

The women all leaped into the water, each one leaping over the waves and splashing about in playful sport. "If I were to strike them," the Pilgrim said, "I would only need to thrust this staff into the pool and stir it about—they would be like mice scalded with boiling water—every last one of them dead. But pity, pity! Even if I beat them to death, I would only lower old Sun's reputation. As the saying goes, 'A man does not fight with women.' I am such a strapping fellow—to kill these few wenches would be truly beneath me. Better not to strike them. I'll just devise a scheme to leave them helpless, unable to move—that would be the best course."

The great sage pressed his fingers together, recited a spell, and shook his body to transform himself into a famished old eagle. Behold:

His feathers were like frost and snow, his eyes like bright stars. When demon foxes beheld him their souls scattered; when cunning hares chanced upon him their gall bladders burst with fear. His steel talons were sharp and gleaming, his fierce and heroic bearing swept across the sky. He would use his sturdy fists to fill his belly, and did not shrink from chasing his prey with his own hands, soaring aloft. He followed the cold skies up and down for ten thousand miles, piercing the clouds to snatch whatever he wished.

With a single flap of his wings he flew forward, spread his sharp talons, and seized the seven sets of garments hanging on the rack, carrying them off in his beak. He then flew straight to the ridge, resumed his true form, and returned to see Bajie and Sha Seng.

The idiot came forward with a smile and said, "So the Master was taken from a pawnshop!" Sha Seng said, "How do you figure?" Bajie said, "Don't you see that Brother Monkey has come back with all their clothes?" The Pilgrim set them down and said, "These are the garments worn by the demons." Bajie said, "How come there are so many?" The Pilgrim said, "Seven sets." Bajie said, "How did you manage to strip them so easily, and so completely?" The Pilgrim said, "I didn't strip them at all. This place is called Coiled-Silk Ridge, and the village is called Coiled-Silk Cave. Inside the cave there are seven female demons. They captured our Master and hung him up in the cave, then all went to the Bathing-Grime Spring to bathe. That spring is a natural formation—a whole pond of hot water. They had planned to bathe and then steam our Master for eating. I followed them there and saw them take off their clothes and enter the water. I wanted to strike them, but I feared soiling my staff and also lowering my reputation, so I did not use my staff. Instead I transformed into a famished old eagle and snatched their clothes. They are all huddled in the water now, too ashamed and timid to show their heads. Let us go quickly and free the Master so we can be on our way."

Bajie laughed and said, "Elder Brother, whenever you do things, you always leave a root behind. Since you've found the demons, why didn't you kill them? Instead you came back to free the Master. Even though they are hiding in shame now, they'll certainly come out by evening. They must have old clothes at home—they'll put on a set and come after us. Even if they don't chase us, they live here permanently, and when we have obtained the scriptures we'll have to return by the same road. As the saying goes, 'Better to lack money by the roadside than to lack fists by the roadside.' If they block our way and make a fuss then, won't that make them our enemies?" The Pilgrim said, "What do you suggest then?" Bajie said, "In my opinion, we should kill the demons first and then free the Master. That is the plan to eradicate the root." The Pilgrim said, "I'm not going to hit them. If you want to, go ahead."

Bajie braced himself in high spirits, overjoyed, raised his rake, and strode straight to the pool. He pushed open the door and saw the seven women huddled in the water, cursing the eagle loudly: "That feathered brute, that cat-biting scoundrel—he's carried off all our clothes! How are we supposed to move?" Bajie couldn't hold back a laugh and said, "Bodhisattvas, taking a bath here? How about letting this monk join you?" The demons saw him and flew into a rage: "You monk, how utterly ill-mannered! We are women of the household, and you are a man who has left the household life. The ancient books say, 'At seven years of age, boys and girls do not sit on the same mat.' How dare you bathe in the same pool with us?" Bajie said, "The weather is so hot—what can I do? Just let me wash up, please. What's all this business about books and mats and sitting or not sitting together?"

Without waiting for an answer, the idiot tossed aside his rake, stripped off his black brocade robe, and splashed into the water. The demons, burning with fury, rushed forward to attack. But little did they know that Bajie was thoroughly skilled in the ways of water. Once in the pool he shook his body and transformed into a catfish spirit. The demons all tried to catch fish, but they could not seize him. When they groped to the east, he suddenly darted to the west; when they groped to the west, he suddenly darted to the east. Slippery and smooth, he kept darting between their thighs. The water was chest-deep, and after swimming on the surface for a while he dove to the bottom. Soon they were all thrown into confusion, panting and gasping, utterly exhausted and spent.

Bajie then jumped up, resumed his true form, put on his straight-cut robe, and grasping his rake, shouted, "Who do you think I am? You took me for a catfish spirit!" When the creature saw this, his heart trembled in terror. He said to Bajie, "At first you came as a monk, then in the water you turned into a catfish, and when we couldn't catch you, you appeared dressed like this. Where exactly did you come from? You must tell me your name." Bajie said, "These scoundrels truly don't recognize me. I am the disciple of the Tang Elder, who is traveling from the Eastern Land of the Great Tang to fetch the scriptures. I am Marshal Tianpeng, Wuneng, Bajie. You have my master hanging in your cave, scheming to steam him and eat him. Is my master so easy to steam and eat? Stretch out your heads right now—I'll give each of you a rake blow and root you out for good." When the demons heard these words, their souls fled and their spirits scattered. They knelt in the water and said, "Have mercy, sir! We are blind fools who mistakenly captured your master. Though we hung him up there, we dared not add to his suffering or torment him. Please, in your compassion, spare our lives. We are willing to contribute travel expenses to send your master on his way to the Western Heaven." Bajie waved his hand. "Don't talk like that. As the saying goes: 'Once fooled by a sweet-talking candy seller, from then on no sweet words are believed.' I'll just give each of you a rake blow, and then we'll all go our separate ways."

The fool was nothing but rough and crude. Showing off his skills, he had no heart for tenderness or mercy. Raising his rake, he made no distinction between good and bad and charged forward striking wildly. The creatures panicked and lost their composure—what did they care about shame or modesty? Preserving their lives was all that mattered. With their hands covering their private parts, they leaped out of the water and ran to stand in the pavilion. There they performed their magic: from their navel holes gushed streams of silk thread, and they spread a great silk canopy across the sky, trapping Bajie inside it. The fool suddenly looked up and saw no sun or sky. He tried to pull himself free and make his way out, but he couldn't lift a foot. They had laid trip-ropes—silk threads covered the ground everywhere. Wherever he moved his feet, he stumbled and fell. Going left, he smashed his face into the ground; going right, he tumbled head over heels; turning quickly, he fell flat on his face again; scrambling up, he collapsed like a somersaulting dragonfly. He didn't know how many times he had fallen. The fool was battered until his body went numb, his feet grew soft, his head swam, and his eyes blurred. He couldn't even crawl—he just lay on the ground groaning.

The creatures had him trapped now. They neither beat him nor harmed him. One by one they leaped out the door, spread the silk canopy to block out the light of heaven, and returned to their respective caves. They stopped on the bridge of stone, recited their true words, and in an instant the silk canopy was withdrawn. They ran stark naked back into the caves, their hands covering their private parts, giggling as they ran past the Tang Monk. They walked into the stone chamber, put on some old clothes, went straight to the back door, and standing there called out, "Where are my children?" Now, the demoness had a child by each of them, but she had not borne them herself—they were all her sworn adopted sons. Their names were Mi, Ma, Lu, Ban, Meng, La, and Qing: Mi was the honeybee, Ma the wasp, Lu the hornet, Ban the caterpillar, Meng the gadfly, La the wax moth, and Qing the dragonfly. The demoness had spread her canopy across the sky and captured these seven kinds of insects and bugs, meaning to eat them. As the ancients said: "Birds have their own language, beasts have their own speech." At the time, these creatures had begged for mercy and offered to take her as their mother. And so in spring they gathered flowers to offer the demoness, and in summer they sought out all manner of blossoms to honor the spirit. Hearing her call, they all came before her and asked, "Mother, what is your command?" The creatures said, "Children, this morning we offended the monk who came from the Tang in the East. We were blocked in the pool by his disciple and suffered great humiliation—we nearly lost our lives. Go out with all your strength and drive him back. If you win, come to your uncle's house and meet us there." The creatures, having escaped with their lives, went off to their senior fellow-disciple, bringing disaster with their wicked mouths—but no more of that. Now look at these insects and bugs, all rolling up their fists and rubbing their palms, coming out to meet the enemy.

Meanwhile, Bajie was dizzy and muddled from all his falls. He raised his head sharply and saw that the silk canopy and silk ropes had vanished. Step by step, carefully, he crawled to his feet. Bearing his pain, he found his way back. He caught sight of the Pilgrim and grabbed him by the hand. "Brother, are my head swollen and my face bruised?" The Pilgrim asked, "What happened to you?" Bajie said, "Those creatures caught me under their silk canopy, laid trip-ropes, and I don't know how many times I fell—my back is bent and broken, I can barely move a step. Just now the silk canopy and ropes all disappeared, and I barely escaped with my life." When Shaseng saw this, he said, "It's over, it's over! You've brought disaster on us. The creatures have surely gone back to the cave to harm our master. We must hurry and save him."

When the Pilgrim heard this, he strode forward at once. Bajie led the horse. They hurried to the manor and saw seven small demons blocking the way on the stone bridge. "Slow down, slow down! We're here," they said. The Pilgrim looked at them and said, "How funny—they're all tiny little fellows. The tallest is only two feet five or six inches, less than three feet; the heaviest weighs only eight or nine pounds, less than ten." He shouted, "Who are you?" The creatures said, "We are the sons of the Seven Immortal Maidens. You have insulted our mother and still have the nerve to come barging into our home. Don't run—be careful!" What a sight—they all rushed forward to attack. Bajie, already in a foul mood from his falls, saw that these bugs were so small and helpless, and raising his rake, he struck at them with fierce determination. When the creatures saw the fool's ferocity, they all resumed their true forms, took to the air, and cried, "Transform!" In an instant, one became ten, ten became a hundred, a hundred became a thousand, a thousand became ten thousand, and each multiplied into countless numbers. It was a sight:

Wax moths filled the air in flight,

Dragonflies danced across the land.

Honeybees and wasps chased foreheads,

Hornets stabbed at the eyes.

Caterpillars bit front and back,

Gadflies stung above and below.

A dark mass swept the face—

Swiftly, even gods and ghosts were struck with fright.

Bajie panicked. "Brother," he said, "you said the scriptures would be easy to obtain, but even the insects on the road to the West bully people!" Wukong said, "Brother, don't be afraid. Go ahead and strike." Bajie said, "They're covering my head and face, all over my body, stinging through more than ten layers thick—how can I even fight them?" Wukong said, "No problem, no problem. I have my own methods." Shaseng said, "Brother, whatever methods you have, use them quickly—in a moment even our bald heads will be swollen."

The great Sage pulled out a handful of his fine hairs, chewed them to bits, and blew them out, transforming them into yellow hawks, gray hawks, goshawks, white hawks, eagles, fish hawks, and sparrow hawks. Bajie said, "Senior brother, what coded language is this again—'yellow' and 'gray'?" Wukong said, "You don't understand. The yellow is the yellow hawk, the gray is the gray hawk, the goshawk is the goshawk hawk, the white is the white hawk, the eagle is the eagle hawk, the fish hawk is the fish hawk, and the sparrow hawk is the sparrow hawk. The demon's sons are seven kinds of insects, and my hairs have become seven kinds of hawks." Hawks are the greatest devourers of insects—one peck per bug, clawing and beating their wings. In an instant, they struck every last one down, leaving not a trace in the sky, and the bodies piled up over a foot deep on the ground.

Only then did the three brothers rush across the bridge and charge into the cave, where they found the old Master hanging there, groaning and weeping. Bajie stepped forward and said, "Master, if you wanted to come here and play at hanging yourself, you didn't know how many somersaults it caused me to tumble!" Shaseng said, "Let's untie the Master first and talk later." Wukong immediately snapped the rope and lowered the Master. He asked, "Where did the demons go?" Tang Seng said, "All seven of them went naked to the back to call for their sons." Wukong said, "Brothers, follow me and let's find them."

The three of them, each wielding his weapon, searched through the back garden, but found no trace of them. They searched all through the peach and plum trees and still found nothing. Bajie said, "They've gone, they've gone." Shaseng said, "No need to search for them anymore. Let me help the Master." The brothers returned to the front and helped Tang Seng onto his horse. Bajie said, "You two help the Master along the path. Wait while old Zhu uses my rake to knock down this house, so when they come back they'll have nowhere to live." Wukong laughed and said, "Raking would take effort—it would be better to find some firewood and burn it all down to cut them off at the root!" The good fool gathered some rotten pine, broken bamboo, dry willows, and withered vines, and set a great fire that burned everything clean away. Only then did the master and disciples set out with peace of mind.

Ah! What became of that demon's fate, whether fortune or calamity, you will learn in the next chapter.