Chapter 85

Chapter 85

Now, the king was holding court that morning, and all the civil and military officials presented memorials, saying: "Your Majesty, we beg you to pardon us for the breach of etiquette." The king said, "You all conducted yourselves with proper ceremony as usual. What breach of etiquette was there?" The officials said: "Your Majesty, for reasons unknown, we all lost our hair overnight." The king took this memorial about the loss of hair, descended from the dragon bed, and addressed his ministers: "It is indeed so—for reasons unknown, everyone in the palace, high and low, also lost their hair overnight." The sovereign and his ministers all wept, saying: "From this day forward, we shall never again kill Buddhist monks." The king returned to his dragon throne, and the officials took their positions. The king then said: "If there is business, step forward and report; if not, let the curtains be rolled up and the court dismissed." At that moment, the Commander of the City Watch stepped forward from the military ranks, and the East City Military Commissioner stepped forward from the civil ranks. They kowtowed at the foot of the steps and said: "We received Your Majesty's orders to patrol the city. Last night we seized a chest of stolen goods and a white horse. We dared not act on our own authority and beg Your Majesty to decide." The king was greatly pleased and said: "Bring the chest at once."

The two officials withdrew to their offices, assembled a full complement of soldiers, and had the chest carried out. Inside, Tripitaka was beside himself with fright and said: "Disciples, once we are brought before the king, what shall we say?" The Pilgrim laughed and said: "Don't make a fuss. I've already made the arrangements. When they open the chest, they'll bow to us as their teachers. Just make sure Eight Forbears doesn't argue or compete." Eight Forbears said: "As long as they spare my life, that's already boundless fortune. How dare I argue?" Before he could finish, they carried the chest outside, into the Phoenix Tower, and placed it on the imperial dais.

The two officials asked the king to open and inspect it, and the king ordered it opened. The moment the lid was lifted, Zhu Bajie could not hold back—he leaped out, terrifying all the officials so that they trembled and could not speak. Then Sun Xingzhe helped Tripitaka out, and Sha Wujing carried out the luggage. Bajie saw the Commander leading the horse and stepped forward with a shout: "That horse is mine—hand it over!" The official was so frightened he tumbled head over heels and fell to the ground. The four pilgrims stood together on the steps. The king, seeing they were four monks, hurriedly descended from the dragon bed, summoned the empress and consorts from the three palaces, came down from the golden throne, and together with his ministers bowed and asked: "Where do you elders come from?" Tripitaka said: "We have been sent from the Great Tang Empire in the East to the Thunder Monastery in the Kingdom of Tianzhu in the West to pay homage to the Living Buddha and obtain the true scriptures." The king said: "Teacher, you have come from afar. Why were you resting inside this chest?" Tripitaka said: "I knew that Your Majesty had vowed to kill monks, so I dared not openly present myself in your kingdom. I disguised myself as a layman and took lodging at an inn at night. Fearing that someone would recognize my true appearance, I rested inside the chest. Unfortunately, thieves stole it, and the Commander captured and brought us here. Now that we have the honor of seeing Your Majesty's dragon countenance, it is like parting the clouds to see the sun. I beg Your Majesty to release me—such is the depth of your grace." The king said: "Teacher, you are a great monk from the Celestial Empire, and I failed to welcome you properly. For years I have vowed to kill monks because once a monk spoke ill of me. I made a vow to Heaven to kill ten thousand monks to fulfill my wish. But tonight I have taken refuge, and my ministers and I shall become monks. Now the sovereign, the ministers, and the consorts—all have had their heads shaved. I beg you, Teacher, do not withhold your great wisdom, and consent to take us as your disciples." Bajie, hearing this, laughed loudly and said: "If you wish to become disciples, what offering will you present?" The king said: "If you consent, I shall present all the treasures of the kingdom." The Pilgrim said: "Speak not of treasures—we are monks of the Way. Just give us the sealed travel documents, escort us out of the city, and we guarantee that your royal domain shall endure forever and your fortune and longevity be ever fulfilled." Upon hearing this, the king immediately ordered the Imperial Banquet Office to prepare a great feast. The sovereign and ministers together took refuge as one. At once they exchanged the travel documents and asked the master to take a new name. The Pilgrim said: "Your Majesty, the name 'Kingdom of the Dharma' is excellent, but the character for 'destruction' does not sit well. Since we have passed through, let it be renamed the 'Kingdom of Honoring the Dharma,' and I assure you: the seas shall be calm and the rivers clear for a thousand generations, and gentle rains and fair seasons shall bring peace to all directions." The king thanked him for his grace. He arranged the full imperial procession to escort Tripitaka and his four disciples out of the city to the west. The sovereign and ministers together returned to the good and the true—no more of that.

Now, Tripitaka took leave of the king of the Kingdom of Honoring the Dharma and said happily from horseback: "Wukong, this was an excellent method—greatly meritorious." Sha Wujing said: "Brother, where did you find so many barbers to shave all those heads overnight?" The Pilgrim explained how he had used his transformations and magical powers. The master and disciples all laughed without restraint.

Just as they were rejoicing, they suddenly saw a great mountain blocking the road. Tripitaka reined in his horse and said: "Disciples, look at that mountain ahead—it is imposing and forbidding. We must be very careful." The Pilgrim laughed and said: "Be at ease, be at ease. I guarantee you will be safe." Tripitaka said: "Don't speak of safety. I see that the mountain peaks stand tall, and from afar there is a certain murderous aura. Dark storm clouds are flying out, and gradually I feel alarmed and terrified, my whole body numb, my spirit uneasy." The Pilgrim laughed and said: "You have long forgotten the *Multi-Heart Sutra* of the Patriarch of the Crow's Nest!" Tripitaka said: "I remember it." The Pilgrim said: "You may remember it, but there are four lines of verse that you have forgotten." Tripitaka said: "Which four lines?" The Pilgrim said:

"The Buddha on Spirit Mountain is not far to seek—

Spirit Mountain is only in your own heart.

Everyone has a Spirit Mountain pagoda;

It is there you should cultivate beneath."

Tripitaka said: "Disciple, how could I not know? According to these four lines, all the scriptures and teachings are nothing but cultivating the heart." The Pilgrim said: "No need to say more. When the heart is pure, it shines alone and illuminates all; when the heart exists, the myriad realms are clear. Stray even a little and you slip into sloth and neglect—for a thousand years, for ten thousand years, you will not succeed. But if you have a single-minded sincerity, the Thunder Monastery is right before your eyes. If you go on in this way—fearful and alarmed, your spirit in turmoil—the Great Way is far away, and the Thunder Monastery is far away. Do not harbor doubts—come with me." When the elder heard these words, his spirit was suddenly refreshed and all his anxieties ceased.

The four pilgrims advanced together. In a few steps they reached the mountain. Raising their eyes to look:

The mountain was truly a fine mountain; look closely and its colors were mottled and bright. Clouds drifted above its peak, and the shadows of trees before the cliff were cold. Birds called out in a rustling chorus, and beasts roamed fierce and savage. Within the forest stood a thousand pine trunks, and upon the ridge grew a few stalks of bamboo. Howling, the gray wolves fought for their food; roaring, the hungry tigers struggled for their meal. Wild monkeys gave long cries as they searched for fresh fruit; deer and elk climbed amid the flowers into the azure mist. The wind blew freely, the water babbled on, and now and then the murmuring of hidden birds could be heard. Here and there wisteria vines pulled and tangled; all along the stream grew precious herbs mingled with fragrant orchids. Jagged rocks stood in sharp array, and sheer crags rose in steep defiance. Foxes and badgers moved in packs; monkeys and apes frolicked in troops. The traveler already grieved at the many perils of the rugged path—how could the ancient road twist and turn so endlessly?

As the master and disciples pressed on, trembling with apprehension, they suddenly heard a great gust of wind rush past with a whoosh. The Tripitaka said in fear, "The wind has risen." Wukong said, "In spring there is the gentle wind; in summer the balmy wind; in autumn the golden wind; in winter the northern wind. All four seasons have their winds. Why should you fear the wind?" The Tripitaka said, "This wind comes with such urgency—it is certainly no heavenly wind." Wukong said, "Since ancient times, the wind has risen from the earth and the clouds have issued from the mountains. How could there be a heavenly wind?"

Before he finished speaking, a fog arose as well. The fog was truly this:

Spreading dark, it blotted out the sky;

Drizzling thick, it shrouded the earth.

The sun's light cast not a shadow,

And nowhere could birdsong be heard.

It was as though all were chaos again,

Like flying dust on every side.

The trees upon the mountaintops could not be seen,

Where could a herb-gathering man be found?

The Tripitaka grew still more alarmed and said, "Wukong, the wind has not yet settled—why has such fog arisen as well?" Wukong said, "Do not be hasty. Please dismount, Master. You and your two brothers wait here and keep watch. Let me go and see whether this is a good or ill omen."

The great Sage, with a flex of his waist, ascended to midair. He shaded his hand over his brows, opened his fiery eyes wide, and looked down. There indeed, sitting at the edge of a hanging cliff, was a demon. Observe what manner of creature he was:

His brilliant, patterned hide was rich and splendid,

His imposing, heroic bearing was vigorous and bold.

His fangs jutted from his mouth like steel drills,

His sharp claws were sheathed like jade hooks.

His golden round eyes made all beasts afraid,

His bristling silver whiskers made even ghosts despair.

He roared and howled, exerting his fierce might,

Breathing out mist and blowing out wind, wielding cunning and stratagem.

Around him on either side stood some thirty or forty lesser demons in formation, while he worked his magic, blowing wind and breathing mist. Wukong laughed to himself: "My master had some foreboding after all. He said this was no heavenly wind, and indeed it is a demon here making a spectacle. If old Sun used his iron cudgel and struck down from above, that would be called 'pounding garlic'—I could strike and kill him, but it would ruin old Sun's reputation." The Pilgrim had been a hero all his life; he would never stoop to a sneak attack. He thought: "I shall go back and put the matter to Zhu Bajie, let him be the first to engage this demon in battle. If Bajie has the skill and can defeat the demon, that would be his good fortune. But if he lacks the ability and the demon captures him, then I can go and rescue him—that would be the way to win true fame. Besides, he has always been lazy and shirked responsibility, unwilling to take the lead. Yet he is tight-lipped about one thing—he loves to eat. Let me coax him a little and see what he says."

At once he descended from his cloud and returned to the Tripitaka. The Tripitaka asked, "Wukong, what of the wind and mist—is it good or ill?" Wukong said, "It has cleared up now—there's no more wind or mist." The Tripitaka said, "So I feel; it seems to have retreated somewhat." Wukong laughed and said, "Master, usually my eyes are reliable, but this time I was mistaken. I said there might be a demon in the wind and mist, but it turns out there is none." The Tripitaka said, "Then what was it?" Wukong said, "Not far ahead there is a village. The people there are devout and good. They have steamed white rice and white-flour buns to offer to monks. This mist must be the steam from their cooking pots—a sign of their accumulated virtue."

When Bajie heard this, he took it at face value. He pulled Wukong aside and whispered, "Brother, have you already eaten their offerings?" Wukong said, "Not much. The vegetables were too salty, so I didn't care for much of it." Bajie said, "Bah! No matter how salty, I'll eat my fill of it. If I get thirsty, I'll come back for water." Wukong said: "Do you want to eat?" Bajie said: "Indeed I do. My stomach is a bit hungry. I'd like to go and eat some first—what do you think?" Wukong said: "Brother, don't mention it. The ancient books say: 'While the father lives, the son does not act on his own authority.' Our master is here—who would dare go ahead?" Bajie laughed and said: "If you keep quiet, I'll just go." Wukong said: "I'll keep quiet—let's see how you manage to go." That fool, with his gluttonous schemes, had his own way of doing things. He stepped forward, made a deep bow, and said: "Master, Brother said just now that there is a village ahead where people are offering alms to monks. Look at the horse—it might disturb the household. It will need grass and feed, won't that be troublesome? Fortunately the wind and mist have cleared. You all sit here for a while. Let me go find some tender grass to feed the horse first, and then we can go to that house to beg for food."

The Tang Monk was pleased and said: "Well said! Why are you so diligent today? Go quickly and come back quickly."

The fool laughed to himself and set off. Wukong caught up with him and grabbed him. "Brother," he said, "that village offers alms only to handsome monks, not to ugly ones." Bajie said: "In that case, I'll have to transform." Wukong said: "Exactly—transform and go." The fine fool, who also possessed thirty-six transformations, went into a hollow in the hill. He worked his finger seals, recited his spell, shook his body, and transformed into a short, thin monk. In his hand he carried a wooden fish, and he hummed and droned—he couldn't recite sutras, only humming "Shang Da Ren."

Then the monster, having gathered in the wind and fog, commanded his host of demons to form a circular formation at the crossroads, lying in wait for passersby. The fool, having the worst of luck, ran straight into the middle of it before long and was surrounded by the swarm of demons. One grabbed his robe, another seized his sash; pushing and shoving, they all set upon him at once. Bajie said, "Don't tear at me—wait, and I'll eat you one at a time." The demons said, "Monk, what do you want to eat?" Bajie said, "You're holding a vegetarian feast for monks here. I've come to eat at it." The demons said, "You think we're holding a vegetarian feast for monks? It's monks we eat here. We are all demon immortals who have attained the Way in these mountains, and we specialize in snatching monks and taking them home to steam them in bamboo steamers until they're done. And you come wanting to eat at a feast." When Bajie heard this, his heart filled with fear, and he began to complain about the Pilgrim: "That Horse-keeping Stable Master is really a lazy wretch. He tricked me into thinking this village was holding a vegetarian feast for monks—where is any village here? What monks would they be feeding? It turns out to be these demons." The fool, being pulled and yanked about in a frenzy, at once revealed his true form, pulled his spike-toothed rake from from his waist, and struck wildly at them, driving the lesser demons back.

The lesser demons rushed to report to the old demon, saying, "Great King, disaster!" The old monster said, "What disaster?" The lesser demon said, "A monk has appeared on the mountain ahead, and a clean-looking one at that. I said we should take him home and steam him for eating. If we couldn't finish him, we could save some for rainy days. But who knew he could transform!" The old demon said, "What form did he transform into?" The lesser demon said, "He hardly looked human at all—a long mouth and big ears, with bristles on his back. He swung a spike-toothed rake in both hands, striking wildly without aiming at head or face, and terrified us so that we ran back to report to you, Great King." The old demon said, "Don't be afraid. Let me go take a look." He brandished an iron staff and approached. When he saw the fool, he was indeed hideous. He had:

A pestle-like mouth three feet long,

Tusks and fangs rivaling silver nails.

Round eyes whose light flashed like lightning,

Two ears fanning the wind with a whooshing roar.

Bristles down his back ranked like iron arrows,

His whole body rough-skinned, scabby, and blue-green.

In his hand he wielded a curious weapon—

The nine-toothed spike-toothed rake, striking fear in everyone.

The demon, summoning his courage, roared, "Where are you from? What is your name? Tell me quickly and I'll spare your life." Bajie laughed and said, "My child, you don't even recognize your Pig Ancestor. Come closer, and I'll tell you:

With a huge mouth, fangs, and great strength,

The Jade Emperor promoted me to Marshal Tianpeng.

I commanded eighty thousand soldiers of the Celestial River,

Living happily and freely in the Heavenly Palace.

But because I drunkenly flirted with a palace maiden,

I then sold out my heroism.

With one thrust of my snout I toppled the Hall of the Dipper,

And ate the Queen Mother's immortal fungus.

The Jade Emperor himself struck me with two thousand blows,

And banished me to the world below.

He told me to cultivate my primal spirit,

But instead I became a demon down below.

I was just happily taking a wife at Village Gao,

When by ill fate I ran into Brother Sun.

I was subdued beneath his golden-banded staff,

And bowed my head to become a monk.

Carrying the horse and hauling the packs like a laborer,

For in a past life I owed a debt to the Tang Monk.

I am Iron-footed Tianpeng, surnamed Zhu by birth,

With the Dharma name Zhu Bajie."

When the demon heard this, he roared, "So you are a disciple of the Tang Monk. I have long heard that the Tang Monk's flesh is delicious—I was just looking to catch him, and you've delivered yourself to me. Do you think I'll let you go? Don't run—watch my staff!" Bajie said, "Wretched beast, you must be a dyer by trade." The demon said, "Why am I a dyer?" Bajie said, "If you weren't a dyer, how would you know how to use a laundry club?" The monster would not let him explain further and rushed forward to strike wildly. The two fought in the mountain hollow—what a battle it was!

The nine-toothed spike-toothed rake, an iron staff.

The rake whirled with its full repertoire, rolling like a mad wind;

The staff flew with cunning strategy, driving like a sudden rain.

One was a nameless evil demon blocking the mountain road;

The other was a guilty Marshal Tianpeng supporting his virtuous master.

Why should the upright fear demons or devils?

The mountain is high, but metal cannot be born from earth.

The staff thrust forward like a python emerging from a pool;

The rake came at him like a dragon leaving the shore.

Their shouts and cries shook the mountains and valleys;

Their fierce bellows startled the underworld.

Two heroes each displayed their prowess,

Staking their very lives on their divine powers.

Bajie raised his fighting spirit and battled the demon, while the demon ordered his lesser demons to surround Bajie as well—but let us leave this aside.

Meanwhile, the Pilgrim, standing behind the Tang Monk, suddenly let out a cold laugh. Sha Wujing said, "Elder Brother, why do you laugh coldly?" The Pilgrim said, "Zhu Bajie is truly a fool. When he heard about a vegetarian feast for monks, he was tricked by me into going. It's getting late and he hasn't returned yet. If he's driven off the demons with a few swings of his rake, you'll see him come back in triumph, competing for credit. But if he can't defeat them and gets captured, that'll be my bad luck—he'll be cursing 'Horse-keeping Stable Master' behind my back and in front of my face, and who knows how many times he'll say it. Wujing, say no more. Let me go take a look."

The Great Sage—without letting the elder know—quietly plucked a hair from behind his head, blew on it with immortal breath, and said, "Transform!" It at once transformed into his own likeness, accompanying Sha Wujing and the elder. His true self projected outward and leaped into the air to observe. He saw the fool surrounded by the demons, his rake in disarray, gradually finding it hard to resist. The Pilgrim could not restrain himself. He pressed down the cloud head and shouted in a stern, loud voice: "Bajie, don't panic—Old Sun is here!" When Bajie heard the Pilgrim's voice, he took heart and raised his fighting spirit even higher, swinging his rake wildly forward. The demon could no longer resist him and said, "This monk wasn't much before—why has he suddenly turned fierce now?" Bajie said, "My child, don't underestimate me—my family's arrived." He pressed forward even more, striking wildly without aiming at head or face. The demon could not hold his ground and led his host of demons in a retreat. The Pilgrim saw that the demons had fled, so he did not approach. He turned his cloud head and flew straight back to his original spot, shook the hair, and drew it back to his body. The elder's mortal flesh eyes could not tell the difference.

Presently, the Fool returned victorious himself, exhausted, with mucus and snot running from his nose, white foam all about his mouth. He came stomping up in a huff and called out, "Master!" The Elder saw him and was startled. "Bajie, you went to cut horse fodder. How did you come back in such a sorry state? Surely someone up on the mountain must be guarding the grass and wouldn't let you cut it?"

The Fool set down his rake, beating his breast and stamping his feet. "Master, don't ask. It's enough to make a man die of shame just to speak of it."

"Then why are you ashamed?"

"Elder Brother made a fool of me. He said earlier that the wind and mist were not from any demon—there was no danger, just a village of good people who were steaming white rice and white flour buns to give to monks. I took him at my word. Thinking my stomach was empty, I wanted to go beg some food, pretending I was cutting fodder. Who would have known there were so many demons? They surrounded me and I fought hard for a while. If it hadn't been for Elder Brother's mourning staff coming to my aid, I'd never have escaped their net and made it back."

The Pilgrim laughed from the side. "This Fool is talking nonsense. Since you were caught stealing, you drag everyone into it with you. I've been right here watching Master—when did I ever leave?"

The Elder said, "That's so. Wukong hasn't left me."

The Fool jumped up and shouted, "Master, you don't know—he has a substitute!"

"Elder Brother Wukong, are there really monsters?"

The Pilgrim could no longer hide it. He bowed and smiled. "There are a few little demons, but they don't dare provoke us. Bajie, come here—I'll look out for you too. Since we're protecting the Master and crossing treacherous mountain roads, we must act like an army."

"What does that mean, acting like an army?"

"You'll be the vanguard general, clearing the path ahead. If the demons don't come, fine. If they do, you'll fight them. If you defeat a demon, the merit's yours."

Bajie reckoned the demon's abilities were about on par with his own, but he said, "Even if I die at his hands, let me go first."

The Pilgrim laughed. "This Fool starts by talking inauspicious talk. How is he ever going to improve?"

"Elder Brother, you should know: when a gentleman attends a banquet, he either gets drunk or gets full. When a warrior enters battle, he either dies or gets wounded. Say one wrong word first, and afterward you'll have prestige."

The Pilgrim was pleased. He quickly loaded the horse, asked the Master to mount, Sha Seng carried the luggage, and they followed Bajie into the mountain. But let us speak no more of them.

As for that demon, he led several defeated little demons straight back to his cave. He sat in silence high up on the stone cliff. There were still many demons left guarding the cave, and they all came forward and asked, "Your Majesty, when you go out you always come back happy and cheerful. Why are you troubled today?"

The old demon said, "Little ones, when I usually go out to patrol the mountain, no matter whether it's people or beasts, I always catch a few to bring home to feed you all. Today my luck was low and I ran into a match."

A little demon asked, "Who was the match?"

The old demon said, "A monk—one of the disciples of the Tang Monk from the East, the scripture pilgrim. His name is Zhu Bajie. He gave me a good beating with his rake and drove me from the field in defeat. How infuriating! I've heard people say all along that the Tang Monk is an arhat who has cultivated himself for ten lifetimes, and that whoever eats a piece of his flesh will live forever. I didn't expect him to come to my mountain today—I could have seized him and steamed him for a meal. I had no idea he had disciples like these under him."

Before he finished speaking, a little demon stepped forward from among the ranks. He sobbed three times before the old demon in choking sobs, then laughed three times with a hee-hee-haw-haw.

The old demon barked, "Why are you crying and laughing?"

The little demon knelt down. "Your Majesty just said you wanted to eat the Tang Monk, but the Tang Monk's flesh isn't fit to eat."

The old demon said, "Everyone says that eating a piece of his flesh grants immortality and life as long as heaven itself. Why do you say it isn't fit to eat?"

The little demon said, "If it were fit to eat, he wouldn't have made it here—other demons along the way would have eaten him already. He has three disciples."

The old demon said, "Do you know those three?"

The little demon said, "His eldest disciple is Sun Wukong, his third disciple is Sha Seng, and this one is his second disciple, Zhu Bajie."

The old demon said, "How does Sha Seng compare to Zhu Bajie?"

The little demon said, "About the same."

"And how does Sun Wukong compare to him?"

The little demon stuck out his tongue. "I dare not say. That Sun Wukong has vast supernatural powers and can transform in countless ways. Five hundred years ago he created a tremendous uproar in Heaven. The Twenty-Eight Mansions, the Nine Luminaries, the Twelve Station Gods, the Five Lords and Four Ministers, the stars of East and West, the Gods of North and South, the Five Marchmounts and Four Rivers, and all the celestial generals of heaven—none of them could subdue him. How dare you want to eat the Tang Monk?"

The old demon said, "How do you know all this in such detail?"

The little demon said, "I used to live on Lion Camel Ridge in Lion Camel Cave with the Great King there. That Great King, not knowing his own limitations, wanted to eat the Tang Monk. Sun Wukong came charging through the gate with his golden-banded cudgel—alas, he beat them so badly it was like a set of dominoes, 'all broken and six-less.' I was fortunate enough to have some sense and escaped through the back gate. I came here and was taken in by Your Majesty. That's how I know his abilities."

The old demon turned pale with fright at these words. Truly, "a great general fears an omen." Hearing his own man speak this way, how could he not be terrified?

Just as they were all seized with dread and terror, another little demon stepped forward and said, "Your Majesty, do not be angry or afraid. As the saying goes, 'Matters should be handled with patience.' If you want to eat the Tang monk, let me devise a scheme to capture him." The old demon asked, "What plan do you have?" The little demon said, "I have a plan called the 'Plum Blossom Divided into Petals Stratagem.'" The old demon asked, "What is the 'Plum Blossom Divided into Petals Stratagem'?" The little demon said, "Now summon all the demons great and small at the cave entrance. Select a hundred from a thousand, ten from a hundred, and finally choose only three from the ten. They must be capable and able to transform. Have them all take on Your Majesty's appearance, wear Your Majesty's helmet, put on Your Majesty's armor, and wield Your Majesty's iron mace, lying in ambush at three different places. First send one to fight Zhu Bajie, then another to fight Sun Wukong, and the third to fight Sha Wujing—sacrificing these three little demons to lure the three brothers apart. Then Your Majesty can extend your cloud-snatching hand from midair and capture the Tang monk. It would be as easy as reaching into a bag to retrieve something, as catching a fish in a basin or pinching a fly from a basin of water. What difficulty would there be?" When the old demon heard these words, he was overjoyed and said, "This plan is absolutely brilliant, brilliant! On this mission, if you fail to capture the Tang monk, so be it. But if you do capture him, I will not treat you lightly—I will appoint you as vanguard commander." The little demon kowtowed in gratitude and called for the demons to be summoned. He immediately gathered all the demons great and small in the cave and indeed selected three capable little demons. They all transformed into the image of the old demon, each wielding an iron mace, lying in ambush and waiting for the Tang monk—but of this no more.

Now let us speak of the Elder Tang, who was free from worry and care, following Bajie along the main road. After traveling for some time, there was a sudden rustling sound from beside the road, and a little demon leaped out, rushing forward to capture the elder. Sun Wukong shouted, "Bajie, a demon is here! Why don't you fight?" That fool, unable to tell true from false, raised his rake and rushed forward to strike wildly. The demon raised his iron mace to meet him. Back and forth the two battled on the mountainside, when there was another rustling sound from the grass and yet another demon leaped out, heading straight for the Tang monk. Wukong said, "Master, this is bad! Bajie's eyes are too dull—he let that demon come to capture you. Wait for old Sun to strike him." He hastily seized his staff, rushed forward, and shouted, "Where do you think you're going? Take that!" The demon said nothing but raised his mace to meet him. The two clashed and struggled on the grassy slope, when from behind the mountain came a sound of rushing wind, and yet another demon leaped out, charging straight for the Tang monk. When Sha Wujing saw this, he was greatly alarmed and said, "Master, both Big Brother and Second Brother's eyes have failed—they let the demons come to capture you. You sit on your horse and let old Sha capture this one!" Without distinguishing good from bad, the monk immediately raised his staff and blocked the demon's iron mace face to face. They fought with bitter determination, shouting and yelling, clamoring and battling, gradually drawing farther and farther away. The old demon, seeing from midair that the Tang monk sat alone on his horse, extended his five-clawed steel talons and seized the Tang monk in one grasp. The master lost his horse, slipped from the stirrups, and was carried away by a gust of wind, snatched clean away by the demon. How pitiable! And truly:

His meditative nature meets demons, hindering the attainment of the true fruit; The River of Flowing Sands encounters once more a star of bitter calamity.

The old demon descended upon the wind and carried the Tang monk into the cave. He called out, "Vanguard!" The little demon who had devised the plan came forward and knelt, saying, "I dare not, I dare not." The old demon said, "What do you mean? A great general's word, once spoken, is as indelible as black dye on white silk. At the time, I said if you failed to capture the Tang monk, so be it. But if you captured him, I would appoint you vanguard commander. Today your brilliant plan has indeed succeeded—how could I break my word to you? You may bring the Tang monk forward. Have the little ones fetch water to scrub the cauldron, carry firewood and build a fire, and steam him for us. You and I shall each eat a piece of his flesh to prolong our lives and gain immortality." The vanguard said, "Your Majesty, we must not eat him yet." The old demon asked, "Since we have captured him, why must we not eat him?" The vanguard said, "It would not matter if Your Majesty ate him. Zhu Bajie could also be dealt with, and Sha Wujing could be dealt with. But I fear that fellow Sun Wukong is ruthless. If he learns that we have eaten him, he won't come to fight with us—he'll just thrust his golden-banded staff into the mountainside and bore a hole through it, knocking down the entire mountain. Then we would have nowhere to dwell!" The old demon said, "Vanguard, what do you suggest?" The vanguard said, "In my humble opinion, let us take the Tang monk to the back garden and tie him to a tree. For two or three days, give him no food. First, this will allow the impurities to clear from his insides. Second, we can wait until the three of them stop searching at our cave entrance and learn that they have gone back. Then we can take him out and enjoy him at our leisure. Would that not be good?" The old demon laughed and said, "Exactly, exactly. The vanguard speaks sensibly." He issued a single command, and the Tang monk was taken into the back garden and tied to a tree with a rope. All the little demons went to the front to await orders.

Look how the elder monk endured the agony of ropes and cords, bound fast and tightly secured, unable to stop the tears streaming down his cheeks, crying out: "My disciples! In what mountain did you capture the demons? On what path did you chase the monsters? I have been seized by these fiendish brutes, suffering disaster here—when shall we meet again? This pain is killing me!" Just as his tears flowed in two streams, he heard a voice calling from a tree opposite: "Elder, you've been brought here too?" The elder collected himself and asked: "Who are you?" The man replied: "I am a woodcutter from this very mountain. The lord of this mountain captured me the other day and has had me bound here for three days now. By my reckoning, he means to eat me." The elder shed tears and said: "Woodcutter, when you die it is only one body—you have no great attachments. But my death would not be so clean." The woodcutter said: "Elder, you are a monk. You have no parents above you, no wife or children below you. When you die, you simply die—what is not clean about that?" The elder said: "I am a man of the Eastern Land journeying to the Western Heaven to obtain the scriptures. I was sent by the august decree of the Great Tang Emperor Taizong to pay homage to the Living Buddha and obtain the true scriptures, so that I might save and release the orphaned souls who have no master in the dark realm. If I now lose my life, will I not disappoint that sovereign and betray those ministers? The wrongfully dead in that City of the Wrongfully Dead—would their countless grieving souls not be utterly bereft of hope, never to be reborn for all eternity? All the merit of this great undertaking would be reduced to nothing but wind and dust—how could that be called clean?" When the woodcutter heard these words, tears fell from his eyes: "Elder, your death would be grievous enough, but mine would be even more sorrowful. I lost my father when I was young and lived as a widower with my mother. I have no family property—I depend entirely on cutting wood for my livelihood. My old mother is eighty-three this year, and I alone support her. If I lose my life, who will bury her body and care for her in her old age? Bitter! Bitter! This pain is killing me!" When the elder heard this, he wept aloud: "Pitiful! Pitiful! Even a mountain man cherishes thoughts of his kin—in vain does this poor monk know how to recite sutras. To serve one's sovereign and to serve one's parents share the same principle; you act from the grace of family, I act from the grace of my sovereign." Truly it was:

Weeping eyes gazing upon weeping hearts,

A broken-hearted man greeting a broken-hearted man.

But let us speak no more of Tripitaka's suffering in captivity. Now it is said that Sun Wukong, having routed the lesser demons on the grassy slope, hurried back along the road only to find his master gone—nothing remained but the white horse and the luggage. In a panic he led the horse and carried the load, searching all over the mountain. Ah! Truly it was:

The troubled Jiangliu meets trouble wherever he goes,

The Great Sage who subdues demons is himself beset by demons.

As for how the search for his master turned out, let us listen to the explanation in the next chapter.