Chapter 74

Chapter 74

Desire and passion share a common root;

Where there is feeling, passion follows naturally.

The shramanas, those who cultivate the Way in droves,

Cut off desire and forget emotion—that is meditation.

One must apply the mind with care, keep the heart firm,

Unstained by a single speck of dust, like the moon hanging in the sky.

Advance in your practice and do not err;

When deeds are fulfilled and practice complete, you shall become a Great Awakened Immortal.

Now our tale returns to the Master of the Law and his disciples, who had broken through the net of desire and escaped the prison of passion, letting their horse head west. They had not gone far when summer gave way to early autumn, and a fresh coolness pierced the body. They saw:

The sudden rain gathering up the last heat of summer,

A single leaf from the parasol tree startling the air.

Fireflies flew along the paths of sedge, late in the evening;

Crickets chirped beneath the bright moonlight.

Yellow sunflowers opened, mirrored in the dew;

Red smartweed spread across the sandy isle.

The willows and rushes dropped their leaves first;

The cold cicadas sang in rhythm with the season.

As the Master of the Law was traveling thus, he suddenly saw a tall mountain, its peaks thrusting into the blue sky, truly touching the stars and blocking the sun. The old master's heart filled with fear, and he called to Wukong, "Look at that mountain ahead—how tremendously high! I wonder whether there is a road through it?" The Pilgrim laughed, "Master, what kind of talk is that? Since ancient times it has been said: 'However high the mountain, there are always travelers' paths; however deep the water, there are always ferrymen.' How could there be no way through? You can go forward with ease." Hearing this, the old master smiled as if flowers were blooming in his face, and urging the horse with his whip, he advanced straight up the high crag.

They had not gone several li when they saw an old man, his temples disheveled, his white hair fluttering and streaming; his beard sparse and thin, silver strands swaying; around his neck hung a string of prayer beads, and in his hand he held a cane with a dragon's head. Standing far off on the hillside, he called out in a loud voice, "O, old monk heading west, do stop your horse a moment and pull tight on the reins! There is a band of demons on this mountain who have devoured every person in the world of Jambudvipa. You must not advance!" At these words, the Master of the Law turned deathly pale with shock. First, the horse's hooves were uneven beneath him, and second, he was perched unsteadily on his carved saddle. He tumbled from the horse to the ground, struggled but could not rise, and lay groaning in the grass. Wukong stepped forward and helped him up, saying, "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid! I'm here." The master said, "Did you hear that old man on the high crag report that there is a band of demons on this mountain who have devoured every person in the world of Jambudvipa? Who would dare to go and ask him for the truth of the matter?" Wukong said, "You sit here on the ground and wait while I go ask him." The Master of the Law said, "Your appearance is ugly and your speech coarse—I fear you will offend him and get no truthful information." Wukong laughed, "I'll change into a more handsome fellow and go ask him." The Master of the Law said, "Change for me to see." The great Sage, forming the spell and shaking his body, transformed into a clean and neat little monk—truly with handsome brows and clear eyes, a round face and proper features. In his movements he had the air of a man of letters, and in his speech there was nothing vulgar. He shook out his brocade robe, strode forward, and said to Tang Sanzang, "Master, how do you like the transformation?" The Master of the Law was overjoyed and said, "Splendid!" Zhu Bajie said, "How could it not be good? It only makes the rest of us look bad. Even if old Pig rolled about for two or three years, he could never transform into such a handsome fellow."

The great Sage moved away from them and went straight up to the old man, bowing and saying, "Grandfather, your humble monk greets you." Seeing that he was handsome, elegant, and light of body in his youth, the old man returned the salute half-heartedly. He reached out and patted the boy on the head, smiling cheerfully as he asked, "Little monk, where have you come from?" Wukong said, "We have come from the Great Tang in the East, bound specifically for the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek the sutras. Having just arrived here, we heard your grandfather's report that there are demons about. My master is timid and fearful, so he sent me to ask: what sort of demons are they exactly, that they dare block the road so brazenly? I beg you to tell me in detail, so that I may drive them away and set out." The old man laughed, "You are young, little monk, and do not know good from bad—your words are not helpful. Those demons have terribly vast divine powers. How could you speak so lightly of driving them away and setting out?" Wukong laughed, "From what you say, it sounds as if you are protecting them. You must be related to them, perhaps close neighbors or intimate friends. Otherwise, how could you magnify their prestige and extol their principles, and refuse to pour out your heart and tell me their origins?" The grandfather nodded and smiled, "This monk certainly knows how to talk. I suppose you have traveled with your master and picked up some magic arts along the way—perhaps you can drive away ghosts and demons, or protect people's homes and subdue evil for them. But you have never encountered truly ferocious monsters!" Wukong said, "How ferocious?" The grandfather said, "Those demons need only send a letter to the Spirit Vulture Peak, and the five hundred arhats all come out to greet them. A single note sent up to the Heavenly Palace, and the eleven great stellar luminaries all hold them in esteem. The dragons of the four seas have been their friends; the eight immortals of the grottoes have often held feasts with them. The Yama Kings of the ten underworld courts call them brothers, and the soil gods and city gods treat them as honored guests."

At these words, the Great Sage could not help laughing out loud. He seized the old man by the hand and said, "Say no more, say no more. That demon is merely a junior servant and companion to me—nothing particularly impressive. If he knew this little monk was here, he would pack up and leave before nightfall." The old man said, "You little monk, you talk nonsense and show no respect. What sacred being is a junior servant to you?" The Pilgrim laughed and said, "To tell you the truth, this little monk's ancestral home is the Kingdom of Aolai, the Water Curtain Cave on Flower-Fruit Mountain. My surname is Sun, and my name is Wukong. In the past, I too was a demon and did great things. Once, after gathering with many demons and drinking too much wine, I fell asleep and dreamed that two men came with a warrant to drag me to the underworld. In a fit of rage, I struck the ghost officials with my golden-banded staff, terrified the King of Hell, and nearly overturned the Hall of Darkness. I scared the clerk in charge of records into fetching paper, and all ten Kings of Hell signed their names and affixed their seals, begging me to spare them from my beating and offering to become my junior servants." When the old man heard this, he said, "Amitabha! This monk has spoken such exaggerated words—he'll never grow any bigger." The Pilgrim said, "Sir, I'm big enough as it is." The old man said, "How old are you?" The Pilgrim said, "Take a guess." The old man said, "Seven or eight years old, I suppose." The Pilgrim laughed and said, "I have a thousand times seven or eight years. Let me show you my old face—don't be alarmed." The old man said, "What do you mean, another face?" The Pilgrim said, "This little monk truly has seventy-two different faces."

The old man, not understanding, kept pressing him. The Pilgrim rubbed his face and immediately revealed his true form—with fangs jutting out, cheeks flushed red on both sides, a tiger-skin skirt tied around his waist, and a golden-banded staff in his hand. He stood beneath the cliff like a living Thunder God. When the old man saw this, his face lost all color, his legs went weak and numb, and he could not stand. He crashed to the ground with a thud. He scrambled up, only to stumble again. The Great Sage stepped forward and said, "Old sir, don't be frightened. We may look fierce, but we are kind at heart. Don't be afraid. Just now you kindly warned us about the demons. How many monsters are there exactly? Please tell me everything, and I will thank you for it." The old man trembled so violently that he could not speak. He pretended to be hard of hearing and would not answer a word.

Seeing that he would not speak, the Pilgrim turned and went back up the slope. The Elder said, "Wukong, you're back? What did you find out?" The Pilgrim laughed and said, "Nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about. There may be a demon or two on the way to the Western Heaven, but the people here are timid and make too much of it. It's nothing, nothing—I'm here." The Elder said, "Did you ask him what mountain this is? What cave? How many demons are there? Which road leads to Thunderclap Monastery?" Zhu Bajie said, "Master, don't blame me for saying this. When it comes to competing in transformations, playing tricks, and making fools of people, three or five of us couldn't match Big Brother. But when it comes to honesty, even if you lined up a whole troop like Big Brother, they couldn't match me." Tang Sanzang said, "Exactly, exactly. You are honest." Bajie said, "He didn't know what he was doing—asked a couple of questions without getting anywhere, and then came back in an awkward muddle. Let Old Pig go and get some real information." Tang Sanzang said, "Wuneng, be careful."

The fool tucked his rake at his waist, straightened his black robe, minced his way up the slope, and called out to the old man, "Greetings, grandfather!" The old man had only just managed to prop himself up with his staff and was trembling and trying to leave when he saw Bajie. He was even more terrified and said, "Oh heavens! What kind of nightmare is this tonight, running into this gang of villains? The first monk was ugly, but at least he had some human appearance. But this monk—he has a face like a pestle, ears like palm-leaf fans, cheeks like iron sheets, and a neck covered with bristles. There's not a trace of humanity in him!" Bajie laughed and said, "You old grandfather, you're not very tactful—you're quite good at running people down. What do you think of me? I may be ugly, but just wait a while and I'll look handsome." When the old man heard him speak like a human being, he had no choice but to open the conversation. "Where are you from?" he asked. Bajie said, "I am the second disciple of the Tang monk. My Dharma name is Wuneng Bajie. The one who just asked you questions was Wukong the Pilgrim, my senior brother. Our master was angry that he offended you and didn't get any real information, so he sent me specially to ask. What mountain is this? What cave? What demon is in the cave? Which is the road to the West? Please be so kind as to tell me." The old man said, "Are you honest?" Bajie said, "In all my life I have never spoken a single false word." The old man said, "Don't be like that monk who just came, babbling nonsense and wasting my time." Bajie said, "I'm not like him."

The old man, leaning on his staff, said to Bajie, "This mountain is called the Lion Camel Range, eight hundred leagues long. In the middle stands the Lion Camel Cave, and inside the cave are three demon chiefs." Bajie spat. "You old fellow worry your head too much. Why go to all this trouble just to tell us about three demons?" The old man said, "Aren't you afraid?" Bajie said, "I won't hide it from you—those three demons, my senior brother will smash one to death with a single blow of his staff; I'll rake one to death with my spade. I've still got a junior brother who'll kill the other with his demon-subduing cudgel: knock all three dead, and my master crosses the mountain. What's so hard about that?" The old man laughed and said, "This monk has no sense of what's deep and shallow. Those three demon chiefs possess tremendous magic powers. Their lesser demons number five thousand on the South Ridge and five thousand on the North Ridge; ten thousand guard the eastern pass, ten thousand the western pass; four or five thousand stand sentry duty, and ten thousand keep the gates; countless tend the fires and gather firewood. Altogether they number forty-seven or forty-eight thousand. All these carry name-tags and are stationed here for one purpose—to eat people."

When the fool heard this, he trembled all the way back to where Tang Seng stood. Without a word of reply, he set down his spade and squatted down there to relieve himself. Sun Wukong saw him and shouted, "You haven't given your report, and now you're squatting there—what are you doing?" Bajie said, "I've been so scared I've sh*t myself. There's no need for talk now—let's each save his own life as soon as possible." Wukong said, "You blockhead! When I asked for information I wasn't frightened at all, but you go and ask and come back in such a panic you've lost your wits." The elder asked, "What is the real situation?" Bajie said, "The old man says this mountain is called the Lion Camel Mountain. In the middle stands the Lion Camel Cave. Inside the cave are three old demons and forty-eight thousand lesser demons, and they're there solely for eating people. If we so much as brush against the edge of their mountain, we'll be food for their bellies. Don't even think about getting through." When Tang Seng heard this, he trembled and every hair on his body stood on end. "Wukong, what shall we do?" Wukong laughed and said, "Master, set your mind at ease—nothing serious. There must be a few demons here, but the people in these parts are timid, so they make them out to be many and mighty, terrifying themselves and alarming themselves. I'm here." Bajie said, "Brother, what kind of talk is that? I'm not like you—I asked and got the truth, no exaggeration whatsoever. Demons fill every mountain and every valley. How can we advance?" Wukong laughed and said, "Don't make that scared face, fool, and don't panic for nothing. Even if the demons fill every mountain and valley, this old Sun will sweep them all away with one pass of my staff before midnight." Bajie said, "Shame on you, shame on you! Don't talk such big words. It would take those demons seven or eight days just to roll call. How could you sweep them all away?" Wukong said, "How would you do it?" Bajie said, "Even if you grabbed them, bound them, and fixed them with the immobilizing spell, you couldn't do it that fast." Wukong laughed and said, "I wouldn't need any grabbing, catching, or binding. I'll take this staff, pull both ends and shout 'Long!' and it will be forty fathoms in length. Shake it and shout 'Thick!' and it will be eight fathoms in circumference. Roll it south of the mountain and five thousand are crushed; roll it north of the mountain and another five thousand are crushed; roll it from east to west and forty or fifty thousand are ground to mincemeat and paste." Bajie said, "Brother, if you fight them like rolling dough, you might finish the whole job by the second watch." Sha Seng, standing nearby, laughed and said, "Master, with the Elder Brother's such magical powers, what is there to fear? Mount up and let's be on our way." Tang Seng, seeing them discussing their powers and having no alternative, reluctantly composed himself and mounted his horse.

As they rode along, the old man who had brought the message had disappeared. Sha Seng said, "He must be a demon himself, borrowing the tiger's might through the fox to spread the news and frighten us." Wukong said, "Don't be hasty—let me go take a look." The Great Sage climbed to the peak of a high mountain and looked around, but there was no trace of anything. He turned quickly and saw a shimmer of colorful clouds in the middle of the sky. He leaped onto the clouds and hurried after it, and it turned out to be the Star of Venus. Wukong went up to him, grabbed him by the hand, and addressed him by his childhood name: "Li Changgeng, Li Changgeng, you lazy fellow! If you had something to say, you should have said it to my face. Why did you disguise yourself as an old mountain rustic and cast a spell on old Sun?" The Star of Venus hurriedly bowed and said, "Great Sage, I was late in bringing the news—I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon. These demon chiefs indeed possess tremendous magic powers and are most formidable. Whether you can get through depends entirely on your skill at shifting, transformation, and clever stratagems. If you are in the slightest degree careless, it will truly be hard to pass." Wukong thanked him: "Much obliged, much obliged. If the going is truly difficult here, I hope you will go up to the Jade Emperor and speak a word for me, borrowing some heavenly troops to help old Sun." The Star of Venus said, "Certainly, certainly. Just pass the word along, and even a hundred thousand heavenly troops can be provided."

The Great Sage took leave of the Star of Venus and descended on his cloud. He met the Tang monk and said, "That old fellow just now was the Star of Venus, who came to bring us a message." The Elder pressed his palms together and said, "Disciple, hurry and catch up with him, and ask if there is another road somewhere. We shall turn aside and go that way." The Pilgrim said, "We cannot turn aside. This mountain stretches for eight hundred *li* from here, and who knows how many roads there may be all around it? How can we turn aside?" When the Tang monk heard these words, he could not stop the tears from streaming down his eyes. "Disciple," he said, "with such difficulties as these, how can we worship the Buddha?" The Pilgrim said, "Don't cry, don't cry. The moment you cry, you become a coward. This message of his must contain some exaggeration. He only wants us to be on our guard. As the saying goes, 'He who tells you is going too far.' Come down from your horse and sit for a while." Bajie said, "What is there to discuss?" The Pilgrim said, "There is nothing to discuss. You stay here and protect the Father with all your heart. Sha Seng, take good care of the luggage and the horse. Let old Sun go up the ridge first and find out what is happening—see how many demons there are in all, front and rear. I will seize one and question him thoroughly, make him write out a statement and hand over a roster, listing every one of them, old and young, and tell them to shut their cave gates and not block the road. Then we can have the Father pass through quietly and peacefully—that will show old Sun's ability." Sha Seng only said, "Be careful, be careful." The Pilgrim laughed and said, "No need for your warnings. When I go, even the Eastern Ocean will make way for me, and even a mountain wrapped in iron will have its door battered through."

The good Great Sage gave a whistle, somersaulted on his cloud, and leaped onto the highest peak. He pulled vines and hauled himself up, then looked around the mountain. Inside the mountain, all was still and no one was to be seen. Suddenly he cried out, "Wrong, wrong! I shouldn't have let that old fellow the Star of Venus go. He was trying to frighten me. What demons are there here? Even if they came out to play around, they would surely be brandishing spears and cudgels, drilling in martial arts. How is it that there is not a single one?" Even as he was reasoning with himself, he heard from behind the mountain the sounds of *ding-ding-dang-dang*, *pi-pi-bo-bo*, and the clanging of a bell. He turned quickly to look and saw a little demon carrying a banner with the character "Order" on it, with a bell hanging from his waist and a wooden clapper in his hand, walking from north to south. The Pilgrim looked at him carefully and saw he was twelve feet tall. The Pilgrim laughed to himself, "He must be a courier—probably delivering official documents or sending out notices. Let me listen to him for a while and hear what he says."

The good Great Sage pinched the sign, said an incantation, shook his body, and changed into a fly. He flew lightly and landed on the little demon's cap, listening with pricked-up ears. He saw the little demon walk up the main road, striking the clapper and shaking the bell, chanting to himself: "We who patrol the mountain must each be on our guard against Sun the Pilgrim. He can turn into a fly." When the Pilgrim heard this, he was secretly alarmed and suspicious. "Has this fellow seen me? If he hasn't, how does he know my name, and how does he know I can turn into a fly?" As it happened, the little demon had not seen him. It was only that the demon chief, for some unknown reason, had given him these instructions—it was all a rumor, and he was chanting nonsense. The Pilgrim did not know this and suspected the demon had seen him. He was about to pull out his staff and strike him, but then stopped and thought to himself: "I remember when Bajie asked the Star of Venus, he said there were three old demons and forty or fifty thousand little demons. Even if there were tens of thousands more of these little ones, it wouldn't matter. But I don't know how powerful these three old demons are. Let me ask him first before I make my move."

The good Great Sage—do you know how he went about asking? He flew down from the demon's cap and perched on a tree, letting the little demon go ahead a few paces. Then he turned swiftly and transformed himself into a little demon as well, striking the clapper, shaking the bell, carrying the banner, dressed just like him, only a few inches taller, and chanting the same words. He hurried forward and called out, "You there on the road, wait for me!" The little demon turned his head and said, "Where are you from?" The Pilgrim laughed and said, "Good fellow, don't you recognize your own family?" The little demon said, "We don't have you in our family." The Pilgrim said, "How can you not have me? Take another look." The little demon said, "Stranger's face. I don't recognize you. I don't recognize you." The Pilgrim said, "No wonder you don't recognize me. I'm the fire-stoker. You've seen me too little." The little demon shook his head and said, "No, no. Even the brothers in our cave who stoke the fire don't have such a pointed beak." The Pilgrim thought to himself, "This beak of mine has turned out a bit too pointed." He lowered his head, covered his beak with his hand, and rubbed it, saying, "My beak isn't pointed." And indeed it was no longer pointed. The little demon said, "Just now you had a pointed beak. How is it that after rubbing it, it's no longer pointed? A suspicious character—very hard to recognize. You're not one of us. Hard to tell, hard to tell. Our Great King's household rules are very strict. Those who stoke the fire only stoke the fire; those who patrol the mountain only patrol the mountain. He wouldn't have you stoke the fire and also patrol the mountain, would he?" The Pilgrim had a clever tongue and seized the opportunity. "You don't know this. The Great King saw that I stoke fire well, so he promoted me to patrol the mountain."

The little demon said, "Well, then—we mountain patrol demons, each squad has forty members, ten squads making four hundred in total, each with his own age and appearance, each with his own name. The Great King feared we might confuse the squads and be hard to check at roll call, so he gave each family a token as identification. Do you have your token?" The Pilgrim, having observed his manner of dress and the way he reported, transformed himself to match that appearance exactly. But since he had not seen the token, he did not have one on him. The Great Sage, however, far from admitting he had none, readily agreed: "How could I not have a token? It's just that I was only just issued a new one. Let me see yours." The little demon, knowing nothing of this scheme, lifted his clothing, and from against his body took out a gilded lacquered token strung on a cord of green wool, and pulled it out for the Pilgrim to see. The Pilgrim saw that the back of the token bore the inscription "Majestic Suppression of All Demons," and on the front were three true characters: "Little Whirlwind." He thought to himself: "No need to say more—but all the mountain patrol demons must have the word 'Wind' at the end of their names." Then he said, "Set your clothes down and step over here while I fetch my token for you to see." He turned around, reached down, and plucked a tiny hair from the tip of his tail. He rolled it between his fingers and cried: "Change!" It immediately became a gilded lacquered token, also strung on a green wool cord, with three true characters inscribed on it: "Chief Whirlwind." He took it out and handed it over for the demon to examine. The little demon was greatly startled. "We are all called Little Whirlwind—how come you alone are called 'Chief Whirlwind'?" The Pilgrim, thorough in his schemes and fitting in his speech, said, "You truly do not know. The Great King, seeing that I am good at making fire, promoted me to patrol wind, and also gave me a new token, calling me 'Chief Patrol Wind,' and told me to oversee this whole squad of forty brothers." Upon hearing this, the demon immediately bowed and said, "Your Excellency, Your Excellency—newly appointed, truly unfamiliar, my words were offensive, please do not take offense." The Pilgrim returned the greeting with a smile and said, "I won't take offense—but one thing: the meeting gift money is required. Each of you must produce five taels." The little demon said, "Your Excellency, don't be hasty. Let me go to the South Ridge to gather this whole squad of mine, and we'll settle it all at once." The Pilgrim said, "In that case, I'll go with you." The little demon walked ahead in earnest, and the Great Sage followed behind.

Before they had gone many li, they suddenly saw a peak shaped like a brush. Why was it called a Brush Peak? From the top of the mountain there grew a single peak, about four or five zhang high, like a brush stuck in a stand—hence the name. The Pilgrim went to the edge, gathered his tail, and leaped up to sit on the tip of the peak. He called out, "Whirlwinds, come here." The little Whirlwinds below bowed and said, "Your Excellency, we await your orders." The Pilgrim said, "Do you know why the Great King appointed me?" The little demons said, "We do not know." The Pilgrim said: "The Great King wishes to eat the Tang monk. He fears that the Great Sage Sun is immensely powerful in supernatural arts and is said to be able to transform, so he worries that Sun might transform himself into a little Whirlwind, come here to tread the paths and spy on our affairs. Therefore he promoted me to Chief Whirlwind to investigate whether any among your squad are impostors." The little Whirlwinds responded in unison, "Your Excellency, we are all genuine." The Pilgrim said: "Since you are genuine, do you know what abilities the Great King possesses?" The little Whirlwind said, "I know." The Pilgrim said: "If you know, tell me quickly. If what you say matches what I know, then you are genuine. If it differs in the slightest, then you are an impostor, and I shall certainly take you before the Great King for punishment." The little Whirlwind, seeing him seated on high, playing tricks and shouting orders, had no choice but to speak truthfully: "My Great King's divine power is vast and his abilities mighty—he once swallowed a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers in a single mouthful." Upon hearing this, the Pilgrim let out a cry: "You are an impostor!" The little Whirlwind was alarmed and said, "Your Excellency, sir—I am genuine! How can you say I am an impostor?" The Pilgrim said: "If you are genuine, how dare you talk nonsense? How large is the Great King's body that he could swallow a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers in one mouthful?" The little Whirlwind said: "Your Excellency, you truly do not know. My Great King can transform—when large, he can prop up Heaven; when small, he is like a mustard seed. The year the Queen Mother of the West held her Peach Banquet and invited all the immortals, she did not send an invitation to my Great King. My Great King intended to contend with Heaven, and the Jade Emperor dispatched a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers to subdue him. My Great King transformed his dharma body, opened his mouth wide like a city gate, and with a mighty effort swallowed them all. He terrified the heavenly soldiers so that they dared not engage in battle, and they shut the South Heavenly Gate. Hence it is said that he once swallowed a hundred thousand soldiers in a single mouthful." The Pilgrim, hearing this, laughed inwardly: "If we're talking about deeds with one's own hands, old Sun has done the same." Then he called out again: "What abilities does the Second Great King have?" The little Whirlwind said: "The Second Great King stands three zhang tall, with silkworm eyebrows, phoenix eyes, a beautiful voice, flat teeth like a carrying pole, and a nose like a dragon. When fighting with anyone, he need only roll up his person with his nose—even if the opponent has an iron back and bronze body, his soul will perish and his spirit will flee." The Pilgrim said, "A demon whose nose rolls up people is easy to catch." Then he called out again: "What abilities does the Third Great King have?" The little Whirlwind said: "My Third Great King is no ordinary creature of the mortal world—his title is the Cloud-Journeying Ten-Thousand-Mile Roc. When he moves, he rides the winds and stirs the seas, shaking the north and sweeping the south. He carries with him a precious treasure called the Yin-Yang Two-Vessel Flask. If a person is placed inside the flask, in the time of a single watch they will be dissolved into liquid."

When Tripitaka heard this, he was secretly alarmed in his heart: "I'm not even afraid of demons and monsters, but I must be careful to guard against that bottle." He responded aloud: "The abilities of the three Great Kings—you haven't described them badly at all, they match what I know. But which of the Great Kings wants to eat the Tang monk?" Little Whirlwind said: "Sir, don't you know?" Tripitaka shouted: "I know a bit more than you. I feared you might not know the full details, so I was ordered to come and thoroughly question you." Little Whirlwind said: "Our First Great King and Second Great King have long lived on Lion Camel Ridge in the Lion Camel Cave. The Third Great King doesn't live here. His original dwelling is about four hundred li to the west of here. In that region there is a city called Lion Camel Kingdom. Five hundred years ago, he ate the king of that city and all his civil and military officials. The entire population, old and young, men and women, he devoured them all completely. Thus he seized their kingdom. Now it is entirely populated by demons and monsters. At some point he learned that the Tang Dynasty in the Eastern Lands had sent a monk to the Western Heaven to obtain the scriptures. They say that this Tang monk Tripitaka is a good man who has cultivated for ten lifetimes, and that if anyone eats a piece of his flesh, they will prolong their life and never grow old. He was only afraid that one of his disciples, Sun Xingzhe, was extremely formidable, and that he alone would be no match, so he came straight here to form a brotherhood with our two Great Kings. With united hearts and shared purpose, they joined forces to capture that Tang monk."

When Tripitaka heard these words, his heart burned with rage: "This wretched demon is utterly without propriety! I am protecting Tripitaka to achieve the true fruit of enlightenment—how dare he scheme to eat my people?" With a hateful cry, he gritted his teeth, pulled out his iron staff, leaped down from the high peak, and pressed the rod down on the little demon's head. Pitiful—it was pressed into something like a meatball. Seeing this, he couldn't help but feel remorse: "Ah! He meant well, telling me all those ordinary family matters, and how could I finish him off with a single blow just like that? Oh well, oh well, so be it." The great sage, only because his master's path was blocked, had no choice but to do this deed. He untied the demon's tally, tied it around his own waist, shouldered the banner bearing the "command" character on his back, hung the bell at his waist, and held the clapper in his hand. Facing the wind he formed a hand seal, murmured an incantation, shook his body, and transformed—becoming exactly the image of Little Whirlwind. He turned his steps around, retraced the old path, sought out the demon cave, and went to investigate the true strength of the three old demon kings. This is a case of:

The beautiful Monkey King of a thousand transformations, the true skill of ten thousand maneuvers!

He entered the deep mountains, following the old path. As he walked along, he suddenly heard the sounds of men shouting and horses neighing. He looked up and saw that at the mouth of the Lion Camel Cave, ten thousand lesser demons were arrayed with spears, swords, halberds, and banners. The great sage was secretly pleased in his heart: "Li Changgeng's words were truly not false, truly not false." Now this arrangement had a certain pattern: two hundred and fifty men made up one large company. He saw only forty multicolored long banners fluttering in the wind, and from this he knew there were ten thousand men and horses. Yet he reasoned with himself: "Old Sun has transformed into Little Whirlwind. Once I go in, if the old demon asks me about my mountain patrol, I must respond as the occasion demands. But if at some point my words betray me and he recognizes me, how will I escape? And if I try to run out, the gate guards will block me—how will I get through? If I want to capture the demon kings inside the cave, I must first eliminate the monsters at the gate." Now how did he plan to eliminate all those monsters? The great sage thought: "The old demon has never met me face to face, yet he knows my name as Old Sun. I shall rely on this very name, wield its prestige, and speak some grand words to frighten them and see what happens. If the beings of the Central Lands truly have the destiny and fortune to obtain the scriptures and return, then with a few heroic words from me, I will frighten away all those gate guards. But if the beings have no such destiny or fortune, and cannot obtain the true scriptures, then even if I speak words so eloquent that lotuses appear, I could not eliminate the monsters outside the Western cave." Heart questioned mouth, mouth questioned heart—pondering this plan, he struck the clapper, shook the bell, and strode straight to the mouth of the Lion Camel Cave. He was immediately stopped by a lesser demon from the forward camp: "Is Little Whirlwind back?" Tripitaka didn't answer and kept his head down as he walked.

When he reached the second-level camp, the lesser demons grabbed him: "Is Little Whirlwind back?" Tripitaka said: "I'm back." The demons said: "You went out on patrol this morning—did you happen to run into that Sun Xingzhe?" Tripitaka said: "I ran into him. He's there sharpening his pole right now." The demons asked fearfully: "What does he look like? What pole is he sharpening?" Tripitaka said: "He's crouching by the stream, and even so he looks like a road-opening god. If he stood up, he'd be a good ten zhang tall. In his hand he holds an iron staff, as thick as a large pole the size of a bowl. He dipped it in the water by the stone cliff, sharpened it a bit, and muttered: 'Oh my pole, I haven't taken you out to display your divine power for a while, but this time there are a hundred thousand demons and monsters—I'll have you kill them all for me, and after I slay those three demon kings, I'll sacrifice to you with their lives.' Once he's sharpened it to his satisfaction, he'll first kill the ten thousand monsters at your gate." When the lesser demons heard these words, every one of them trembled with fear and their souls scattered. Tripitaka continued: "Gentlemen, there isn't much meat on Tripitaka anyway, and none of it would come to our share. Why should we hold the jar for them? Let's each of us scatter and save ourselves." The demons all said: "You're right. Let each of us look after his own life." Now these creatures were all wolves, tigers, insects, beasts, birds, and flying creatures. With a howl, they all scattered and fled. This was not like the Great Sage Sun's few boastful words—it was rather like the songs of Chu that scattered eight thousand soldiers.

The Monkey King thought to himself with delight, "Excellent! The old fiend is dead. If he's gone at the mere sound of words, how dare I face him directly? It would be best to go inside and speak just as I've said. If I say something amiss, and even one or two of these lesser demons happen to slip inside and hear it, wouldn't the news get out?" So you see him, steeling his resolve to enter the ancient cave and emboldening himself to penetrate the deep gates.

As for what fortune or calamity awaited him upon meeting that great demon lord, let us listen to the explanation in the next chapter.