Chapter 21

The Dharma Guardians Set Out a Farmstead to Detain the Great Sage; Lingji of Sumeru Subdues the Wind Demon

Now those fifty beaten little demons, clutching tattered banners and broken drums, tumbled into the cave and reported: "Great King, the Tiger Vanguard could not stand against that monkey-faced monk; he has been chased down the eastern slope." When the old demon heard this he was sorely troubled. As he sat with head bowed, silent, turning plans over in his mind, the imp at the front gate called in: "Great King, the Tiger Vanguard has been beaten to death by that monkey-faced monk, and the monk is dragging his body before our very gate, shouting defiance." At this the old demon grew more troubled still. "This wretch has no sense at all," he said. "I had never so much as eaten his master, yet he turns around and beats my vanguard to death. Infuriating! Infuriating!" He called: "Bring out my armor. I have only heard tell of this Pilgrim Sun. Let me go out and see what kind of nine-headed, eight-tailed monk he is: I will take him alive and make him pay for my Tiger Vanguard." The little demons hastily bore out the armor. The old demon buckled it on smartly, took up a three-pronged steel trident, and led his horde of demons leaping from the cave.

The Great Sage stood waiting before the gate and watched the demon come striding out, gallant and terrible to see. What manner of figure did he cut? Just this:

A golden helmet dazzled the sun; golden armor stilled the light to a gleam.From the helmet plumes of mountain pheasant tail came streaming; a gauze robe, pale goose-yellow, hooded the mail.The waistband coiled with dragons, brilliant in color; the heart-guard mirror swam bright before the eyes.Deer-hide boots dyed the yellow of locust flowers; a brocade apron furred like willow leaves.In his hand a three-pronged steel trident, keen — no less a warrior than the Illustrious Sage of former days.

The old demon came out his gate and shouted at the top of his voice: "Which of you is Pilgrim Sun?" The Pilgrim, the tiger demon's hide under his feet and the As-You-Will iron staff in his hand, answered: "Your grandfather Sun stands here. Bring out my master." The demon looked him over carefully — a shabby little body, a scrawny face, less than four feet tall — and laughed. "Pitiful, pitiful! And here I thought some hero no blow could topple was come; it is only this sickly skeleton of a ghost." Pilgrim laughed. "My boy, you have no eye at all. Your grandfather may be small, but let him strike you one blow on the crown with that trident shaft, and I will grow three feet." "Then set your skull hard," said the demon, "and take my shaft." The Great Sage showed no fear whatever, and the demon did truly strike him once. He bowed at the waist, and stretched a good three feet, until he stood about a zhang tall. The demon, alarmed, checked his trident and roared: "Pilgrim Sun, how dare you bring your body-guarding arts of transformation to my very gate? No more tricks — come up here and let us see each other's hands." Pilgrim laughed. "My boy, the proverb says: if you mean mercy, do not raise your hand; raise your hand, and mercy is done. Your grandfather's hand lies heavy — I fear you could not stand under one blow of this staff." The demon gave him no time to argue, but spun the steel trident and stabbed at the Pilgrim's chest. And the Great Sage was precisely the practiced hand that never flusters and the flustered hand that never practiced: he swept the iron staff around, played the stance Black Dragon Skimming the Ground, knocked the trident wide, and hammered at the demon's head. So the two of them, at the mouth of Yellow Wind Cave, fought a fine great battle:

The demon king flew into a rage; the Great Sage put forth his might.The demon king flew into a rage, to seize the Pilgrim and pay for his vanguard; the Great Sage put forth his might, to catch the spirit and rescue the elder.Trident came, staff parried; staff went out, trident answered.One was the garrison commander-in-chief of the mountain; the other the Dharma-guarding Handsome Monkey King.At first they fought down in the dust; then each rose to fight at the center.The steel trident, bright of point and biting keen; the As-You-Will staff, black of body, bound in gold.Whom it pierced: his soul went home to the world of darkness; whom it struck: he would surely stand before King Yama.All hung on quick hands and quick eyes; it took strong thews and a strong frame.Both sides fought forgetting life and death — and who could say which would walk away sound, and which sore hurt?

The old demon and the Great Sage fought thirty rounds without victory to either. Then the Pilgrim, hungry for a victory to show, played his art of bodies beyond the body: he plucked out a fistful of hairs, chewed them to a pulp in his mouth, sprayed them upward, and cried, "Change!" A hundred and more Pilgrims appeared, dressed all alike, each gripping an iron staff, ring upon ring of them around the demon in midair. The demon took fright and played his own stock in trade: he whipped his head about toward the southeast, opened his mouth three times wide, and blew out one long breath — and all at once a yellow wind rose howling from the sky. What a wind, and truly dreadful:

Cold and shrill it whistled, and heaven and earth were changed; formless, unseen, the yellow dust spun in gyres.It threaded the woods, snapped branches, felled pines and plum; it heaved up soil, flung dust, split the ridges and crumbled their shrines.The Yellow River's waves splashed, churning it muddy to the bottom; the Xiang River's waters surged, rolling breakers over.The azure sky shook the Palace of the Dipper and Ox; the gale all but battered down the Hall of Serene Judgment.Five hundred arhats clamored to the heavens; the eight great vajra warriors shouted in disarray.Manjushri lost his blue-maned lion; Samantabhadra's white elephant could nowhere be found.Zhenwu's tortoise and snake were scattered from their ranks; Zitong's mule lost its saddle flaps to the gale.Traveling merchants shouted their pleas to the blue heavens; boatmen bowed and vowed every kind of vow.Lives adrift on the misty waves were tossed among the billows; careers spent chasing rank and gain were handed to the water.The immortal peaks and cave-abodes went black and dim; the isle of Penglai darkened, gray upon gray.The Lord Lao could spare no thought for his elixir furnace; the Star of Longevity furled his dragon-whisker fan.The Queen Mother, on her way to the Peach Banquet, had sash and bracelet flustered by a single gust.Erlang lost his way to Guanzhou city; Nezha could not draw the sword from its case.The Heavenly King could not find the pagoda in his palm; Lu Ban's gold-tipped auger hung dangling.The treasure turrets of the Thunderclap toppled three stories; the stone bridge of Zhaozhou cracked in two.The wheel of the red sun swung dark and lightless; the stars that fill the sky were all thrown into confusion.Birds of the southern hills flew to the northern hills; the waters of the East Lake flooded toward the West.Mates were torn from mates and could not call; mothers torn from children, none could answer.Dragon Kings searched every sea for their yakshas; the Lord of Thunder hunted everywhere for his lightning.The ten kings of Yama hunted for their judges; in the netherworld ox-heads chased horse-faces.This wind blew down Mount Potalaka and rolled up a scroll of Guanyin's sutra.White lotus blossoms dropped and flew along the shore; it laid low twelve courts of the Bodhisattva.Since Pangu to this day no wind has ever blown so wicked as this.With one hideous howl heaven and earth all but burst and split apart; ten thousand li of rivers and mountains trembled.

When the demon loosed this blast of wild wind, the little Pilgrims the Great Sage Sun had made from his hairs were spun in midair like a spinning wheel, with no hope of swinging their staves, no way of closing with him. In alarm Pilgrim shook himself, drew the hairs back onto his body, and came on alone, iron staff raised, to strike. But the demon blew a mouthful of yellow wind full in his face; his fiery eyes and golden pupils were squeezed tightly shut and could not open. Unable to wield the iron staff, he fell back from the fight. As for the demon, he gathered in his wind and returned to his cave — but of this, no more.

Now Zhu Bajie, seeing the yellow wind rise so fiercely that heaven and earth went dark, led the horse, guarded the load, and crouched in a fold of the mountain, not daring to open his eyes or lift his head, his mouth ceaselessly invoking the Buddha and vowing vows; and he had no idea how Pilgrim was faring in battle, or whether the Master lived or died. While he brooded on this, the wind fell and the sky cleared. Suddenly he raised his head to look toward the cave gate: no weapons anywhere, no sound of gong or drum. The Idiot dared not go up to the demon's gate, yet he could not leave the horse and luggage unguarded; truly caught between advance and retreat, he fretted without end. Amid his worries he heard the Great Sage Sun shouting his way from the west, and rose to meet him. "Brother, what a wind! Where have you come from?" Pilgrim waved his hands. "Terrifying, terrifying! Never since old Sun became a man have I seen such a wind. That old demon came at me with a three-pronged steel trident, and we fought thirty rounds and more before I played my art of bodies beyond the body and had him surrounded and hammered. He grew desperate, and so he conjured up this gale. A vicious thing it was — it blew me off my feet, so I gathered in my hair-bodies and fled through the wind. Whew, what a wind! Whew, what a wind! Old Sun can whistle up the wind and summon the rain too, but never such a wicked wind as this demon's." "Brother," said Bajie, "how were the demon's martial arts?" "Passable," said Pilgrim. "His trident work was neat enough, and he fought old Sun to a standstill. Only his wind was too foul; it was hard to beat him." "In that case, how do we ever rescue the Master?" "Rescuing the Master can wait. Is there an eye doctor anywhere hereabouts? Let him have a look at my eyes and treat them." "What is the matter with your eyes?" "The demon blew a mouthful of wind at me; it left my eyeballs aching, and now the tears run cold and constant." "Brother, here in these hills with night coming on, never mind an eye doctor — there is not even a place to sleep." "Lodging is no trouble. I reckon the demon does not dare harm my master yet. Let us find the main road and some household to take us in for the night; when day breaks we will come back and beat the demon." "Right, right," said Bajie.

So he led the horse and shouldered the load, climbed out of the hollow, and made for the road. Dusk was settling when they heard dogs barking below a slope south of the road. The two halted and looked: a farmstead, lamplight glowing faintly within. Without asking whether path there was or none, they pushed through the grass until they stood before its gate. And what did they see? Just this:

Purple zhi fungi in shadowed clusters, white stones gray with age.Purple zhi shadowed and dense amid the green grass; white stones gray, half clothed in emerald moss.A scatter of fireflies burning bright; a wood of wild trees ranked thick and close.Fragrant orchids breathing deep; tender bamboo, freshly planted.Clear springs run down the winding ravine; ancient cypresses lean on the deep cliff.So secluded no traveler ever comes; before the gate only wildflowers bloom.

The two of them did not presume to walk in, but called out: "Open the door! Open the door!" Out came an old man with several young farmhands, pitchforks, rakes, and brooms in hand, demanding: "Who is there? Who is there?" Pilgrim bowed. "We are disciples of the holy monk of the Great Tang in the Land of the East. On our way to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and fetch scriptures, we were crossing this mountain when the Great King of the Yellow Wind carried off our master; we have not yet rescued him. It is late, and we have come to your house to beg lodging for one night — we beg you kindly." The old man returned the courtesy. "Forgive my poor welcome, forgive it. This is a place of many clouds and few people, and hearing the gate called just now we feared fox demons or tigers or mountain bandits; so my servants were rude, not knowing you were two reverend elders. Come in, come in."

The brothers led the horse and carried the load inside, tied the horse, set down the load, paid their respects to the old master of the farm, and sat with him in talk. A gray-haired servant brought tea; after tea, bowls of sesame-and-hempseed rice were set out; after rice, beds were ordered made up. "Sleep can wait," said Pilgrim. "Tell me, good man: is there anywhere hereabouts that sells eye medicine?" "Which of the elders has an eye ailment?" "To tell you the truth, good sir, we religious have never known sickness; we have never had trouble with our eyes." "If your eyes are not diseased, why ask for medicine?" "This very day, at the mouth of Yellow Wind Cave, as we tried to rescue our master, the demon blew a gust of wind at me that left my eyeballs aching; they water now without ceasing, and so I went looking for eye salve." "Fine talk, fine talk!" said the old man. "You, an elder, and young as you are — how can you lie? The Great King of the Yellow Wind's wind is the most terrible there is. His wind is not to be compared with any spring breeze or autumn breeze, the wind in pines and bamboo, or the east, west, south, or north wind…" "Then it must be the wind that splits the skull," put in Bajie, "or goat-ear fits, or the leprosy, or one-sided migraine?" "No, no," said the elder. "It is called the samadhi divine wind." "How do you know?" "That wind can blow heaven and earth dark; it sets ghosts and spirits wringing their hands; it splits stone and crumbles cliffs; one breath of it on a man and his life is done. If the likes of you were caught in it, would you hope to live? Nothing short of an immortal could come through unharmed." "True enough, true enough," said Pilgrim. "We are no immortals — though the immortals are juniors to me. This life of mine will not end so easily; only my eyeballs were left aching." The old man said, "If that is so, you are someone with a history behind him. My poor district sells no eye medicine. My own eyes water cold in the wind, and once I met an extraordinary man who passed on a prescription called Three Flowers, Nine Seeds Salve, which cures every wind-struck eye." Hearing this, Pilgrim bowed with lowered head. "I beg a little of it, to try a drop." The old man agreed, went inside, and brought out a little agate jar; he drew the stopper, dipped a jade hairpin in for a few drops, applied them to Pilgrim's eyes, told him not to open them, to sleep with an easy heart, and he would be well by morning. When he had finished he took the jar away and led his servants back inside.

Bajie undid the bundle, spread the bedding, and invited Pilgrim to lie down; Pilgrim groped about with his eyes shut. "Master," laughed Bajie, "where is your blind man's staff?" "You rotten lout of an Idiot," said Pilgrim, "wishing me blind, are you?" The Idiot snickered in the dark and went to sleep. Pilgrim sat on his bedding, turning his divine powers over within, and did not lie down until past the third watch.

Before he knew it the fifth watch was nearing dawn. Pilgrim wiped his face and opened his eyes. "Fine medicine indeed — a hundred times brighter than ordinary." He turned to look behind him — ah! No house or window was there at all, only old locust trees and tall willows, and the brothers asleep on the green sward. Bajie woke. "Brother, what are you hollering about?" "Open your eyes and look." The Idiot raised his head, saw no farmstead, and scrambled up in a panic. "Where is my horse?" "Tied to the tree, is it not?" "And the luggage?" "Set by your head, is it not?" Bajie said, "These people are the height of rudeness — moving house without a word to us! Had they told old Pig, we would at least have sent them tea and fruit over the parting. Hiding from the tax rolls, most likely, afraid the bailiff would learn of it, so they moved away in the night. Phew! And we slept like the dead — they tore the whole house down and we never heard a creak!" Pilgrim chuckled. "Idiot, do not shout. What is that paper slip on the tree?" Bajie went over and peeled it off with his hand: four lines of verse, which read:

This farm was no home of common men: the Dharma-guarding sangharama made it their lodging of grace.Fine salve healed your aching eyes; now give your whole heart to beating the demon, and do not waver.

"These strong-arm gods," said Pilgrim. "Since we traded for the dragon horse I have never once summoned them, and still they come playing tricks." "Brother, do not put on airs," said Bajie. "Why should they take orders from you?" "Brother, you do not know yet. These sangharama guardians of the teaching, the Six Dings and Six Jias, the revealers of the five quarters, and the duty officers of the four watches hold the Bodhisattva's dharma decree to guard my master in secret. They reported for duty that day, but with you along all this while we have had no use for them, and so I never summoned them." "Brother, if they hold a decree to guard the Master in secret, they cannot show themselves openly, so they conjured this immortal farmstead. Do not blame them: yesterday they put salve in your eyes and fed us a meal into the bargain — they have done their part. Do not blame them; let us go rescue the Master." "You speak well, brother. Yellow Wind Cave is not far from here. Do not stir; stay in these trees watching the horse and the load. I will go into the cave and scout, see how our master does, and then fight it out with them." "Exactly so," said Bajie. "Get us certain word, life or death. If the Master is dead, each of us can go his own way; if he lives, we will strain every nerve for him." "Enough of that talk. I am off."

He sprang up and flew straight to the cave gate, which was still shut for the night. Not calling at the gate, and not wishing yet to rouse the demons, he pinched the sign, murmured a spell, shook himself, and turned into a pied-legged mosquito, a perfect little mite. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

A teasing tiny body with a piercing beak; its thin humming rings like thunder.Through orchid rooms and gauze curtains it slips at will, loving best the warm air of high summer.It fears only smoldering smoke and swatting fans; it dotes on lamplight's glow.Light and little, quick to dart and drill — it flies into the demon's cave.

The imp guarding the gate was snoring in his sleep. Pilgrim gave his face a bite; the imp rolled over, woke, and muttered, "Lord have mercy, what a mosquito! One bite, and up comes a bump the size of a walnut." Then his eyes popped open. "Daylight already." There was a creak: the inner gate opened. Pilgrim hummed his way in and found the old demon giving orders: every gate was to keep watch, and the weapons were being made ready. "I fear yesterday's wind did not blow Pilgrim Sun to death. Today he is certain to come again — and when he does, I will finish him for good."

Hearing this, Pilgrim flew on past the hall to the back of the cave, where one more door stood shut fast. He drilled through the crack of the door into a great empty garden, and there, bound with cords and ropes to the Wind-Fixing Stake, was the Tang monk, tears raining down, his heart calling only on Wukong and Wuneng, not knowing where they were. Pilgrim stilled his wings, settled on his bare scalp, and said, "Master." The elder knew the voice. "Wukong! I have longed for you to death. Where are you, calling me?" "Master, I am on your head. Do not worry, do not fret. We will certainly seize this demon before we save your life." "Disciple, when will you ever seize the demon?" "The tiger demon that took you, Bajie has already beaten to death. Only the old demon's wind is fierce. I reckon today is the day we take him — that much I promise. Trust me, and do not cry. I am going."

With that he hummed away to the front, where the old demon sat above, assigning his captains to their posts. At the cave mouth stood an imp rubbing a banner blazoned with the word COMMAND; he tramped up into the hall to report. "Great King, your humble one was ranging the mountain. Just outside the gate I saw a monk with a long snout and great ears sitting in the trees; if I had not run fast, he would near have caught me. But of yesterday's monkey-faced monk there was no sign." "No Pilgrim Sun?" said the old demon. "The wind must have blown him dead — or else he has gone somewhere begging for relief troops." "Great King," said the demons, "if the wind did kill him, that is our good fortune; but if it did not kill him, and he brings back some divine soldiers — what then?" "Divine soldiers? Let them come. Only one being can still my wind: the Bodhisattva Lingji. The rest are nothing to fear."

From the roof beam Pilgrim heard that one sentence and was overjoyed. He slipped out at once, resumed his true form, and came into the trees, calling, "Brother." "Brother, where have you been?" said Bajie. "Just now an imp with a command banner — I chased him off." "Well done, well done," said Pilgrim, laughing. "I turned into a mosquito, went into the cave to look for our master — he is bound to the Wind-Fixing Stake, crying — and I told him not to weep. Then I flew up to the roof beam to listen. The imp with the command banner came puffing in to report: only that you had chased him, and that he had seen nothing of me. The old demon guessed and babbled — that the wind had killed me, that I had gone to fetch divine soldiers. And then out came his confession all by itself. Beautiful, beautiful." "Confessed what?" "He said that for all the divine soldiers in the world, the only one who could still his wind is the Bodhisattva Lingji. The question is, where does Lingji live?"

While they were still talking, an old grandfather came out from beside the main road. What did he look like? This:

Sound in body, he leaned on no staff; beard of ice, temples of snow, all a-fluff.Gold blossoms dazzled his bleary eyes; gaunt bones and worn sinews yet held strong.Bent back, bowed head, he took his slow steps; bushy brows, a child-red face.Judge his looks as men would, they said: the Star of Longevity stepped from his cave.

Bajie saw him and was delighted. "Brother, the proverb says: to know the road below the mountain, ask someone coming or going. Go and ask him, why don't you?" The Great Sage truly hid his iron staff, let fall his robe, and came up calling, "Grandfather, my respects." The old man returned half a bow, half a nod. "What monk are you? In this empty wild, what business?" "We are holy monks fetching scriptures. Yesterday we lost our master here, and I have come to ask you one thing, grandfather: where does the Bodhisattva Lingji live?" "Lingji? Straight south, three thousand li from here. There is a mountain called Little Mount Sumeru, and in it a dharma seat, the Bodhisattva's chan cloister where he preaches the sutras. Are you going to fetch his scriptures?" "Not his scriptures. I have a matter to trouble him with; I only need the road." The old man pointed south with his hand. "This goat-track is the way." While the Great Sage Sun turned to look at the road, the grandfather turned into a clean wind and quietly vanished. By the roadside lay only a note with four lines of verse:

A word to the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, and let him hear: this old man is Li Changgeng.On Sumeru there is a Flying-Dragon Staff; Lingji received it from the Buddha as his arms of old.

Pilgrim took the note and turned back to the road. "Brother, our luck has run low these past days — ghosts in broad daylight! Who was that old fellow who turned to wind and went?" Pilgrim handed Bajie the note, who read it aloud. "Who is Li Changgeng?" "The title of the Gold Star of Venus in the west." Bajie hurriedly bowed toward the empty sky. "Benefactor, benefactor! If the Gold Star had not carried our plea and won over the Jade Emperor, old Pig's life would have turned into who knows what." "So you know gratitude, brother," said Pilgrim. "Now keep out of sight; hide deep in these trees and mind the luggage and the horse. I will find Sumeru and beg the Bodhisattva to come." "Understood, understood. Off with you, and quick. Old Pig has learned the turtle's way: when the head can be drawn in, draw it in."

The Great Sage Sun leaped into the sky, mounted the somersault cloud, and made straight south — fast indeed: a nod of the head carried him three thousand li, a twist of the waist eight hundred more. In a moment he saw a high mountain, and from its midst auspicious clouds rising, halos of grace thick upon the air. In a fold of the mountain stood a chan cloister; bells and chimes rang out far and sweet, and incense smoke drifted thin. At the gate the Great Sage met a Taoist with a string of beads at his neck, murmuring the Buddha's name. "Your servant, master Taoist." The Taoist bowed in answer. "Where do you come from, my lord?" "Is this the place where the Bodhisattva Lingji preaches?" "It is. What would you say?" "Please take word in for me, old sir. I am Pilgrim Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, disciple of the Dharma Master Tripitaka, sworn brother of the Emperor of the Great Tang in the Land of the East; I have a matter that requires the Bodhisattva." The Taoist laughed. "My lord, yours is a many-worded message; I cannot hold it all." "Then just say the Tang monk's disciple Sun Wukong has come."

The Taoist took the message up to the preaching hall. The Bodhisattva at once robed himself in the kashaya, added fresh incense, and came out to receive him. As the Great Sage stepped through the gate and looked within, what did he see? This:

The whole hall a brocade splendor, the whole room a solemn dignity.The disciples in a body recited the Lotus Sutra; the aged head of the assembly lightly tapped a golden cast chime.The offerings before the Buddha were all immortal fruits and immortal flowers; on the table were set only pure dishes, pure fare.Jeweled candles blazed — each golden flame shot forth rainbows; true incense breathed deep — each curl of jade-white smoke flew into colored mist.Just so: the lecture done, the mind at ease, he sank into meditation; white clouds, flake by flake, wound round the pine tips.Stillness gathers the sword of wisdom: the king of demons cut off; the paramita of prajna: how high the assembly of the good.

The Bodhisattva set his robes in order and came out to greet him. Pilgrim entered the hall and took the guest's seat; tea was ordered. "Spare me the tea," said Pilgrim. "My master is in peril on Yellow Wind Mountain; I have come to beg the Bodhisattva to exert his great dharma power, subdue the monster, and save my master." "I hold a decree of the Tathagata to keep the Yellow Wind demon penned here. The Tathagata gave me one Wind-Fixing Pellet and one precious Flying-Dragon Staff. When I caught him I spared his life and let him hide his nature and return to the mountain, forbidding him to take life or work evil. Who knew that today he would try to harm your master — a breach of his teaching and command. The fault is mine." The Bodhisattva would have kept Pilgrim for a vegetarian meal and conversation, but Pilgrim earnestly begged off; so the Flying-Dragon Staff was taken up, and he and the Great Sage mounted the clouds together.

In no long time they were over Yellow Wind Mountain. "Great Sage," said the Bodhisattva, "this monster has some fear of me. I will hold steady within the clouds. Go down and challenge him; lure him out, and I will exert my power." Pilgrim did as told, pressed down the cloud head, and without a word of parley drew the iron staff and smashed in the cave gate. "Monster! Return my master to me!" The gate imps hurried in, terrified, to report. "That brazen ape," said the demon, "is past all decency — he will take no good, and now he has broken my gate. The moment I go out, one blast of my divine wind and I will blow him dead." He arrayed himself as before, took up his trident, and came striding out again. Seeing Pilgrim he did not trouble to talk, but twisted the trident for a thrust at his chest. The Great Sage swerved aside and answered blow for blow. They had fought but a few rounds when the demon swung his head toward the southeast, about to open his mouth and whistle up the wind — when from mid-air the Bodhisattva Lingji cast down the precious Flying-Dragon Staff. What spell he murmured who knows, but it became a golden dragon with eight claws, which flung its two claws wide with a flash, seized the demon in one grip, lifted him by the head, and dashed him two or three times against the crags at the mountain's edge. There he showed his true form: a yellow-furred marten.

Pilgrim rushed up, staff raised to strike, but the Bodhisattva held him back. "Great Sage, do not take his life; I must take him before the Tathagata." And he told Pilgrim: "He was a rat attained to the Way at the foot of Vulture Peak. Because he stole the pure oil from a glazed lamp, the flame went dim, and fearing the vajra warriors would seize him, he fled — and here he took spirit form and worked his mischief. The Tathagata saw him and ruled he deserved no death, so he set me over him as his keeper: if ever he took life or worked evil, I was to seize him and carry him up to Vulture Peak. Now he has affronted the Great Sage and plotted harm against the Tang monk. I will take him before the Tathagata, his crime made plain and punished — and so this day's work will be complete." Pilgrim thanked the Bodhisattva, who then returned west — but of that, no more.

Now Zhu Bajie, in the trees still wondering what had become of Pilgrim, heard a call from below the slope: "Brother Wuneng! Bring the horse and shoulder the load!" The Idiot knew Pilgrim's voice, snatched up his things at once, and ran out of the trees. "Brother, how did it go?" "I begged the Bodhisattva Lingji to come. With one Flying-Dragon Staff he took the demon — a yellow-furred marten turned spirit, as it turned out — and he has carried him off to Vulture Peak to see the Tathagata. Now you and I go into the cave to rescue our master." Then at last the Idiot was glad with all his heart.

The two of them burst inside and with rake and iron staff beat to death the whole warren of cunning rabbits, fox demons, musk deer, and antlered deer; then they went to the back garden to bow their master out. When the master came forth he asked, "How did you two take the demon? How did you come to save me?" Pilgrim told the whole story — begging Lingji, subduing the monster — and the master thanked him without end. The brothers made do with what plain things the cave held, took some tea and rice, and then went out the gate, found the main road, and headed west.

But what happened after that? Listen to the next chapter to find out.

The Guardian Deities Set Up a Farmhouse to Detain the Great Sage; Lingji of Sumeru Pins Down the Wind Demon

Now those fifty beaten little demons, carrying some broken flags and broken drums, rushed into the cave and reported: "Great King, the Tiger Vanguard could not beat that monkey-faced monk. He was chased down the east slope." When the old demon heard this, he was very upset. He was standing with his head down, silent, turning over a plan, when the little demon who guarded the front gate said: "Great King, the Tiger Vanguard has been beaten to death by that monkey-faced monk. He has dragged the body to our gate, and he is calling us out to fight." When the old demon heard that, he grew even more upset and said: "That wretch knows nothing. I never even ate his master, yet he goes and kills my vanguard. How hateful! How hateful!" He called out: "Bring my armor! I have only heard talk of some Pilgrim Sun. Let me go out and see what kind of monk this is, with nine heads and eight tails, and take him inside to pay with his life for my Tiger Vanguard." The little demons hurriedly brought out the armor. The old demon dressed himself neatly, took up a three-pronged steel trident, and led the horde of demons out of the cave.

The Great Sage stood waiting outside the gate and saw the demon come out, truly fierce and bold. Look at how he was dressed. This is what appeared:

A gold helmet flashed in the sun, and gold armor held the light.On the helmet a tassel of mountain pheasant tails floated; a gauze robe of pale goose-yellow covered the armor.The armor cords were worked with coiling dragons that blazed with color, and the heart-guard mirror blazed before the eyes.Deerskin boots, dyed the color of locust flowers; a brocade apron, trimmed with willow-leaf down.In his hand a sharp three-pronged steel trident, no worse a fighter than the Illustrious Sage True Lord Erlang of years past.

The old demon came out the gate and shouted in a harsh voice: "Which one of you is Pilgrim Sun?" This Pilgrim stood with the tiger monster's pelt on his feet and the As-You-Will iron staff in his hand, and answered: "Your grandfather Sun is here. Hand over my master." The monster looked at him closely and saw that Pilgrim was short and homely, thin and spare in the face, not even four feet tall. He laughed and said: "Poor thing, poor thing. I thought you were some hero who could not be knocked over. You are nothing but a scrawny, sickly bag of bones." Pilgrim laughed and said: "You boy, you have no eye at all. Your grandfather may be small, but if you are willing to strike a trident handle down on his head, he will grow three feet." The monster said: "Harden your skull, then, and take a blow from my handle." The Great Sage showed no fear at all. The monster really did strike a blow at him. Wukong bent his back, and sure enough he grew three feet, to about ten feet tall. This frightened the monster so much that he held down his steel trident and shouted: "Pilgrim Sun, how dare you use this body-changing magic at my front gate? Stop playing tricks. Come up here and let us see what you can do." Pilgrim laughed and said: "Boy, as the saying goes, 'If you mean to spare someone, do not raise your hand; once you raise your hand, you do not spare them.' Your grandfather's hand is heavy. I am afraid you could not stand up under one blow of this staff." The monster would not listen to any argument. He spun the steel trident and stabbed straight at Pilgrim's chest. The Great Sage was one of those skilled men who are never flustered—only the unskilled get flustered. He angled his iron staff, made a move called "the Black Dragon Sweeping the Ground," pushed the trident aside, and struck at the monster's head in his turn. The fight the two of them had at the mouth of the Yellow Wind Cave was a fine one:

The demon king raged; the Great Sage showed his power.The demon king raged, meaning to take Pilgrim to pay for his vanguard; the Great Sage showed his power, meaning to catch the spirit and save the elder.The trident came and the staff blocked; the staff went out and the trident met it.One was the great commander who guards the mountain; the other was the Handsome Monkey King, guardian of the Law.At first they fought in the dust; later both rose into the air.The refined-steel trident was bright and keen; the As-You-Will staff was black, banded with gold.Those stabbed would send their souls to the dark world below; those struck would surely meet King Yama.All depended on quick hands and quick eyes; it took strong arms and a strong body.The two sides fought with no care for their own lives, and no one could tell who would walk away whole and who would be hurt.

The old demon fought the Great Sage thirty rounds, and neither side won. Pilgrim wanted to make his name, so he used his trick called "the body outside the body": he pulled out a handful of his hairs, chewed them to pieces in his mouth, blew them upward, and shouted, "Change!" They became more than a hundred Pilgrims, all dressed exactly alike, each holding an iron staff, and they closed around the monster in the air. The monster was frightened, and he answered with a skill of his own: he whipped his head around toward the southeast, opened his mouth three times, and blew out one long breath. All at once a yellow wind rose from the sky. What a wind it was—truly terrible:

Cold and shrill it blew, and heaven and earth were changed; formless and shapeless, the yellow sand spun.It cut through forests, snapped branches, and felled pines and plum trees; it flung up soil and dust and crumbled the ridge rocks.The waves of the Yellow River splashed until its depths were all mud; the waters of the Xiang River surged and rolled in turning waves.It shook the blue sky and the star palaces of the Dipper and the Ox; it nearly blew down the dark hall of the world of the dead.The five hundred arhats raised a clamor to heaven; the eight great Vajra warriors shouted in disorder.Manjushri lost his blue-maned lion; Samantabhadra's white elephant could not be found.Zhenwu's turtle and snake were torn from their band; the mule of Zitong lost its saddle skirt to the wind.Traveling merchants cried out and called on the blue sky; boatmen bowed and promised every kind of vow.On the misty waves, lives floated in the billows; men chasing fame and gain risked what was left of their years on the water.The immortal mountains and cave homes turned black; the island of Penglai went dim and dark.The Lord Lao could no longer watch his elixir furnace; the Star of Longevity put away his dragon-whisker fan.The Queen Mother was on her way to the Peach Banquet when one gust tangled her skirt, sash, and bracelets.Erlang lost his way to Guanzhou city; Nezha could not draw the sword from its case.The Heavenly King could not see the pagoda in his palm; Lu Ban dropped his gold-tipped drill.Three stories of the precious halls of the Thunderclap Monastery toppled; the stone bridge of Zhaozhou broke in two.The red sun tossed in the sky and lost its light; the stars that filled the heavens were all dimmed and thrown into confusion.The birds of the south mountain flew to the north mountain; the waters of the East Lake overflowed toward the West Lake.Mates were torn apart and could not call to each other; mothers and children were separated and could not cry out.The Dragon King searched the whole sea for his yaksha; the Thunder Lord looked everywhere for his lightning.The ten kings of Yama hunted for their judges; in the underworld, ox-heads chased after horse-faces.This wind blew down Mount Putuo and rolled up a scroll of Guanyin's sutra.White lotus flowers were torn off and flew out to sea; it blew down the Bodhisattva's twelve courtyards.From Pangu's time to now, no wind was ever seen so evil as this one.With a wild roar, heaven and earth nearly burst apart, and the rivers and mountains of ten thousand li all trembled.

When that monster let loose this wild wind, the little Pilgrims made from the Great Sage's hairs were spun about in midair like a spinning wheel. There was no hope of swinging a staff, no way to hold their ground. In alarm, Pilgrim shook his body and drew the hairs back in. Then, alone, he raised his iron staff and came forward to strike. The monster blew a mouthful of yellow wind straight into his face, and it whipped his fiery eyes and golden pupils so hard that they clamped shut and could not be opened. He could not use the iron staff, so he had to give way and lose the fight. The monster gathered in his wind and returned to his cave—we say no more of him.

Now Zhu Bajie, seeing the yellow wind rage until heaven and earth went dark, had led the horse and guarded the load as he crouched in a hollow of the mountain. He dared not open his eyes or lift his head, and he mumbled prayers and promises without stopping. He had no idea whether Pilgrim had won or lost, or whether his master was alive or dead. While he sat lost in these anxious thoughts, the wind died down and the sky cleared. He raised his head and looked toward the mouth of the cave: no weapons there, and no sound of gongs or drums. The Idiot did not dare walk up to the demon's gate, yet he could not leave the horse and luggage untended. He was truly stuck between going forward and going back, and worry had him beside himself. As he fretted, he heard the Great Sage Sun come shouting from the west. He straightened up and went to meet him, saying: "Brother, what a wind! Where have you come from?" Pilgrim waved his hand and said: "Terrible, terrible! In all my days I have never seen such a wind. That old demon came at me with a three-pronged steel trident. We fought more than thirty rounds, and then I used my trick of the 'body outside the body' and had him surrounded and beaten. He grew desperate, and that is how he raised this wind. It is truly savage. It blew so hard I could not keep my feet, so I gathered in my hair-tricks and ran for it through the wind. Whew, what a wind! Whew, what a wind! I can summon winds and call up rains myself, but I have never known a wind as foul as this monster's." Bajie said: "Brother, how are the monster's fighting skills?" Pilgrim said: "Not bad. His trident work is neat, and he fought me to a draw. But his wind is too wicked. It is hard to beat him." Bajie said: "How are we going to rescue the master like this?" Pilgrim said: "The rescue must wait for now. Is there any eye doctor in this region? I need him to treat my eyes." Bajie said: "What is the matter with your eyes?" Pilgrim said: "The monster blew a mouthful of that wind at me. It made the balls of my eyes ache, and now cold tears run from them all the time." Bajie said: "Brother, we are in the middle of these mountains, and the sky is getting dark. Never mind an eye doctor—there is not even a place to sleep." Pilgrim said: "A place to sleep is not hard to find. I reckon the monster will not dare harm my master yet. Let us find the main road and a house to stay in for the night. Tomorrow when it is light we will come back and take the demon." Bajie said: "Right, right."

They led the horse and carried the load out of the hollow and up onto the road. By then dusk was falling, and they heard a dog barking below the slope south of the road. The two stopped and looked: it was a farmhouse, with lamplight glowing faintly behind it. Without asking whether there was a path or not, they pushed through the grass straight to the gate of the house. This is what they saw:

Purple zhi mushrooms stood dark and thick, and the white rocks lay gray and weathered.Where the purple zhi stood dark, green grass grew thick; on the gray-white stones, half was covered with green moss.A few little fireflies glowed bright and hot; a wood of wild trees stood close in rows.The fragrant orchids gave off a heavy scent; young bamboo had been newly planted.A clear spring ran through the winding ravine; old cypresses leaned against the deep cliff.The place was so remote that no traveler ever came; before the gate only wild flowers bloomed.

The two of them did not dare walk in uninvited. They could only call out: "Open the door! Open the door!" An old man came out with several young farmhands, all carrying pitchforks, rakes, and brooms, and asked: "Who is it? Who is it?" Pilgrim bowed and said: "We are the disciples of a holy monk of the Tang in the Land of the East. We are going west to worship the Buddha and fetch the scriptures. We were passing over this mountain when the great king of the Yellow Wind took our master captive, and we have not yet freed him. It is late. We have come to your house especially to beg a night's lodging. We hope you will be kind to us." The old man returned their bow and said: "Forgive me for not welcoming you properly. This is a place of many clouds and few people. When we heard the knocking just now, we were afraid of fox demons, tigers, or mountain robbers, so my clumsy young servants were rough with you. We did not know you were two reverend elders. Come in, come in."

The brothers led the horse and carried the load inside, tied the horse, set down the load, bowed to the old master of the farm, and sat with him. A gray-headed servant served tea. After the tea, several bowls of sesame rice were brought out. After the meal, beds were made up. Pilgrim said: "Sleep can wait. Tell me, good man, is there anyone in this region who sells eye medicine?" The old man said: "Which elder has trouble with his eyes?" Pilgrim said: "To tell you the truth, old sir, we monks have never been sick a day in our lives, and we never knew eye trouble." The old man said: "If your eyes are fine, why do you ask for medicine?" Pilgrim said: "Today, at the mouth of the Yellow Wind Cave, we were trying to save our master when the monster blew a mouthful of wind at us. It made the balls of my eyes ache, and now they brim with tears. So I am looking for eye medicine." The old man said: "Goodness, goodness! Elder, you are young. Why tell lies? The great king of the Yellow Wind has the fiercest wind there is. His wind is nothing like spring and autumn winds, or winds in pines and bamboo, or east, west, south, and north winds…" Bajie said: "Then it must be a wind in the head, or the goat-ear wind, or leprosy, or a one-sided headache?" The old man said: "No, no. It is called the Samadhi Divine Wind." Pilgrim said: "How do you know?" The old man said: "That wind can blow heaven and earth dark. It makes ghosts and spirits grieve. It splits rocks and breaks cliffs, and when it blows on a man his life ends on the spot. If that wind had caught you, do you think you would still be alive? Only an immortal could come through it unharmed." Pilgrim said: "That is the truth, the truth. We are not immortals, but the immortals are juniors to me. This life of mine will not be ended so quickly. But my eyes do ache." The old man said: "If that is so, you are a man of some history. No one in this out-of-the-way place sells eye medicine. But my own eyes water in the wind, and I once met a strange worthy who passed on a recipe to me. It is called the Three Flowers Nine Seeds Salve, and it cures every kind of wind-sore eye." When Pilgrim heard this, he bowed with lowered head and said: "I beg for a little of it, to try a drop or two." The old man agreed. He went inside, brought out a little jar of agate stone, pulled out the stopper, dipped up a little with a jade hairpin, and put it into Pilgrim's eyes. He told him to keep them shut, rest his heart, and go to sleep, and by morning they would be well. When he had finished, he put the stone jar away and led the young servants back inside.

Bajie undid the bundle, spread out the bedding, and asked Pilgrim to lie down. Pilgrim groped around with his eyes shut. Bajie laughed and said: "Master, where is your blind man's staff?" Pilgrim said: "You rotten idiot, you are making a blind man out of me." The Idiot snickered in the dark and went to sleep. Pilgrim sat on the bed, running his magic power through his body, and did not lie down until after the third watch.

Before he knew it, dawn was near at the fifth watch. Pilgrim wiped his face, opened his eyes, and said: "That is fine medicine. The light is a hundred times brighter than usual." He turned and looked behind him. Ah! There was no house and no windows to be seen—only old locust trees and tall willows, and the brothers asleep on the green grass. Bajie woke and said: "Brother, what are you shouting about?" Pilgrim said: "Open your eyes and look." The Idiot looked up, saw no farmhouse, scrambled up in a panic, and said: "Where is my horse?" Pilgrim said: "Is that not it, tied to the tree?" "And the luggage?" Pilgrim said: "Is that not it, lying by your head?" Bajie said: "These people are shameless. If they were moving away, why did they not tell us? If this old pig had known, I would have sent them off with some tea and fruit for the road. I bet they were hiding from the headman's rolls, afraid the village head would find out, so they moved in the night. Whew! We slept too sound. How did they tear down the whole house without our hearing a thing?" Pilgrim laughed through his nose and said: "Idiot, stop your noise. Look—what is that paper notice on the tree?" Bajie went over and pulled it down with his hand. It bore these four lines of verse:

This farmhouse was no home for common men; it was a lodging conjured by the guardian deities of the faith.The wondrous salve was given you to heal your aching eyes; give your whole heart to taking the monster, and do not hesitate.

Pilgrim said: "Those strong-armed gods. Ever since they got us the dragon horse I have not called on them once, and here they are playing tricks again." Bajie said: "Brother, do not put on airs. Why should they take orders from you?" Pilgrim said: "Brother, you do not know yet. The guardian deities of the church, the Six Dings and Six Jias, the guardians of the five quarters, and the duty gods of the four watches hold a decree from the Bodhisattva to protect my master in secret. They reported for duty that day, but once you came along I had no use for them, so I never called the roll. That is all." Bajie said: "Brother, since they act under a decree and protect the master in secret, they cannot show themselves openly. That is why they conjured up this spirit farm. Do not blame them. Yesterday they put the salve in your eyes, and they gave us a good meal. You could say they did their utmost. So do not blame them. Let us go save the master." Pilgrim said: "You are right, brother. This place is not far from the mouth of the Yellow Wind Cave. Do not move yet. Stay here in the trees and watch the horse and the load while I go into the cave and find out where my master is. Then we will fight him." Bajie said: "That is right. Get us a sure answer, life or death. If the master is dead, each of us can go look for other work. If he is not dead, we will fight with all our strength." Pilgrim said: "Stop your nonsense. I am off."

He sprang up and went straight to the demon's front gate, which was shut for the night. Pilgrim did not knock. Not wanting to alarm the monsters, he pressed his fingers in a sign, said a spell, shook himself, and changed into a flower-footed mosquito, a truly neat little thing. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

A tiny restless body with a sharp beak, and a faint whine like a little thunder; it slips easily into scented rooms and gauze curtains, loving the warmth of hot days.It fears only smoky incense and swatting fans, yet it loves the light of lamps; light and small and quick to dart, it flew into the demon's cave.

The little demon guarding the gate was snoring in his sleep. Pilgrim stung him on the face, and the little demon rolled over awake and said: "Goodness! What a big mosquito. One bite raised a bump this big." He opened his eyes suddenly and said: "It is morning." Then he heard the click of the second gate opening. Pilgrim flew in with his faint whine and saw the old demon giving orders to keep watch at every gate while they cleaned their weapons. He was saying: "If that wind did not blow Pilgrim Sun to death yesterday, he will certainly come back today. When he comes, I will make an end of him for good."

Pilgrim heard this, flew over the hall, and went straight to the back. There a door stood shut tight. He slipped in through a crack. Inside was a big empty garden, and on the far side of it, wound with cords and ropes on the Wind-Fixing Stake, hung Tripitaka. Tears fell thick down the master's face, and his heart called only on Wukong and Wuneng, not knowing where they were. Pilgrim stopped his wings, landed on the master's shining bald head, and called: "Master." The elder knew his voice and said: "Wukong, how I have longed for you! Where are you, calling me?" Pilgrim said: "Master, I am on your head. Do not be anxious, and do not grieve. We will take this monster, and only then can we save your life." Tripitaka said: "Disciple, when will you ever take the monster?" Pilgrim said: "The tiger monster that took you is already dead—Bajie beat him to death. Only the old demon's wind is terrible. I expect that today we will take him for certain. Rest easy and do not cry. I am going now."

With that, he flew whining to the front and saw the old demon sitting above the hall, calling the roll of his officers. Then he saw a little demon in front of the cave polishing a banner marked with the word "command," and rushing up to the hall to report: "Great King, this humble one was going around the mountain. I had just gone out the gate when I saw a monk with a long mouth and big ears sitting in the trees. If I had not run fast, he would have caught me. But I did not see that monkey-faced monk from yesterday." The old demon said: "If Pilgrim Sun is not here, the wind must have blown him to death. Or else he has gone somewhere to beg for reinforcements." The demons all said: "Great King, if the wind really killed him, that is our good luck. But if it did not kill him, and he goes and asks some divine soldiers to help him, what then?" The old demon said: "What divine soldiers are worth fearing? Only one being could fix my wind: the Bodhisattva Lingji. All the rest are nothing to be afraid of."

Pilgrim, up on the roof beam, heard these words and was overjoyed. He flew out at once, took his true form, came to the trees, and called: "Brother!" Bajie said: "Brother, where did you go? Just now a demon carrying a command banner came by, and I chased him off." Pilgrim laughed and said: "Good work, good work. I changed into a mosquito and flew into his cave to look for the master. He is tied to the Wind-Fixing Stake, crying. I told him not to cry. Then I flew up to the roof beam and listened. The demon with the command banner came in puffing and blowing to make his report—he had been chased by you, and he never saw me. The old demon guessed wildly. He said the wind had blown me to death, then said I had gone to fetch divine soldiers. And then he gave up a name all by himself. Very good, very good!" Bajie said: "Whose name did he give up?" Pilgrim said: "He said: what divine soldiers are worth fearing? Only one could fix his wind—the Bodhisattva Lingji. But where does Lingji live?"

While they were still talking, an old grandfather came walking out from beside the main road. Look at what he was like:

His body was sturdy and he did not lean on a staff; his icy beard and snowy temples stood out in bushy tufts.Golden flowers dazzled his eyes and his gaze swam, yet his thin bones and weak sinews were still hard and tough.He bent his back, bowed his head, and walked slowly; his heavy brows and red face were like a child's.You would take his looks for a man's, yet he seemed the Star of Longevity stepping out of his cave.

Bajie saw him and was delighted. He said: "Brother, as the saying goes, 'To know the roads below the mountain, ask someone coming or going.' Go up and ask him, why don't you?" The Great Sage really did hide his iron staff, let down the flap of his robe, went up, and called out: "Good grandfather, I salute you." The old man gave back a half-hearted bow and said: "What monk are you? What business do you have out here in the wilds?" Pilgrim said: "We are holy monks fetching the scriptures. Yesterday we lost our master in this place, and I have come to ask you a question, grandfather: where does the Bodhisattva Lingji live?" The old man said: "Lingji lives straight south. It is three thousand li from here. There is a mountain called Little Mount Sumeru, and in it is a place of practice, the meditation hall where the Bodhisattva preaches. Are you on your way to fetch his scriptures?" Pilgrim said: "Not to fetch his scriptures. I have a matter on which I need his help, and I do not know which road to take." The old man pointed south with his hand and said: "This winding goat-track is the way." He tricked the Great Sage into turning his head to look at the road, and then the old grandfather turned into a clear breeze and vanished without a sound. On the ground beside the road he left a slip of paper with four lines of verse:

To the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, take note: the old man was Li Changgeng.On Sumeru mountain there is the Flying Dragon Staff; Lingji received that weapon of the Buddha in days gone by.

Pilgrim took the slip and turned back down to the road. Bajie said: "Brother, our luck has run low these days. In broad daylight we are seeing ghosts. Who was that old fellow who turned into a wind and left?" Pilgrim handed him the slip. Bajie read it through and said: "Who is Li Changgeng?" Pilgrim said: "That is the title of the Gold Star of Venus of the West." Bajie hurriedly bowed toward the sky and said: "Benefactor, benefactor! If the Gold Star had not gone to the Jade Emperor and pleaded for me, who knows what this old pig's life would have turned into." Pilgrim said: "So you know gratitude, brother. Now keep out of sight. Hide deep in these trees and watch the luggage and the horse carefully. I will go find Mount Sumeru and ask the Bodhisattva to come." Bajie said: "Understood, understood. Go as fast as you can. This old pig has learned the turtle's way: when a head can be pulled in, pull it in."

The Great Sage Sun leaped into the air, jumped on his somersault cloud, and headed straight south. He was fast indeed: with a nod of his head he passed three thousand li, and with a twist of his waist another eight hundred and more. In a moment he saw a high mountain, with lucky clouds and bright mists rising from its middle. In a hollow of the mountain there really was a meditation monastery. He heard bells and chimes ringing far off and saw incense smoke drifting. The Great Sage went straight to the gate, where he saw a Daoist with a string of beads around his neck, murmuring the Buddha's name. Pilgrim said: "Good day, Daoist." The Daoist bowed in return and said: "Where does your honor come from?" Pilgrim said: "Is this the place where the Bodhisattva Lingji preaches?" The Daoist said: "It is. What do you want?" Pilgrim said: "I am sorry to trouble you, old sir, but please pass on a message for me: I am Pilgrim Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, disciple of the Tripitaka, the sworn brother of the Emperor of the Tang in the Land of the East. I have a matter on which I must see the Bodhisattva." The Daoist laughed and said: "Your honor uses too many titles and too many words. I cannot remember all of that." Pilgrim said: "Just say that Wukong, disciple of the Tang monk, has come."

The Daoist did as he was told, went up to the lecture hall, and passed the word. The Bodhisattva put on his kasaya robe at once, added incense, and came out to receive him. The Great Sage stepped through the gate and looked around. This is what he saw:

The whole hall was hung with brocade, and the whole building was full of majesty.The disciples together recited the Lotus Sutra, and the old head of the assembly gently struck a chime of cast gold.The offerings before the Buddha were all immortal fruit and immortal flowers; the dishes laid on the altar were all plain vegetarian food.The precious candles blazed, their golden flames shooting out like rainbows; the true incense was sweet, its jade smoke curling up in streaks of colored mist.Truly: teaching done and minds at ease, they sat in meditation, while white clouds, flake by flake, wound around the pine tips.In stillness they sheathed the sword of wisdom and ended the demon of delusion; the good assembly of the perfection of wisdom sat high.

The Bodhisattva straightened his robes and came out to welcome him. Pilgrim entered the hall and sat in the guest seat, and tea was ordered. Pilgrim said: "Do not trouble with tea. My master is in trouble on Yellow Wind Mountain. I have come to beg the Bodhisattva to use his great powers, take the monster, and save my master." The Bodhisattva said: "I received a decree from the Tathagata to keep the Yellow Wind monster pinned down here. The Tathagata gave me a Wind-Fixing Pill and the treasure Flying Dragon Staff. I caught him once and spared his life, and I let him go back to the mountains and stay hidden, forbidden to harm living things or work evil. I did not know that today he would try to harm your master and break that command. The fault is mine." The Bodhisattva wanted to keep Pilgrim for a meal and a talk, but Pilgrim begged off. The Bodhisattva took up the Flying Dragon Staff, and he and the Great Sage rode the clouds together.

Before long they reached the Yellow Wind Mountain. The Bodhisattva said: "Great Sage, this monster has some fear of me. I will stay hidden in the clouds. Go down and challenge him. Lure him out, and I will use my powers." Pilgrim did as he was told. He brought his cloud down, and without a word he pulled out his iron staff and smashed the door of the cave. He shouted: "Monster, give me back my master!" The little demons at the gate hurried inside to report, terribly frightened. The monster said: "That brazen ape is truly without manners. He will not turn good, and now he has broken my door. When I go out this time, I will loose a wind of magic and blow him to death for sure." He put on his armor as before, took his steel trident in hand, and came out the gate again. When he saw Pilgrim, he did not say a word. He spun the trident and stabbed at his chest. The Great Sage twisted aside and dodged it, raised his staff, and struck back. They fought a few rounds. Then the monster ducked his head aside and turned toward the southeast, about to open his mouth and blow. But high in the air, the Bodhisattva Lingji threw down the treasure Flying Dragon Staff. He muttered some spell, and the staff became a golden dragon with eight claws. It spread its two claws wide, grabbed the monster in one grip, took him by the head, and dashed him two or three times against the rocks at the cliff's edge. The monster showed his true form: a yellow-haired marten.

Pilgrim ran up and raised his staff to strike, but the Bodhisattva stopped him and said: "Great Sage, do not take his life. I must take him to see the Tathagata." Then he said to Pilgrim: "He was a rat that found the Way at the foot of Vulture Peak. He stole the clear oil from the crystal lamp, and when the flame went dim he was afraid the Vajra warriors would catch him, so he ran away and made himself into a spirit here. The Tathagata saw him and ruled that he should not die, so he put him under my guard, on this condition: if he ever harmed living things or worked evil again, he was to be taken up to Vulture Peak. Now he has run into you, Great Sage, and harmed Tripitaka. I will take him to see the Tathagata and let his crime be judged openly. Only then will this deed of ours be complete." Pilgrim heard this and thanked the Bodhisattva. The Bodhisattva went back west—we say no more of him.

Now Zhu Bajie, in the trees, was thinking about Pilgrim when he heard a call from down the slope: "Brother Wuneng, bring the horse and carry the load!" The Idiot knew Pilgrim's voice. He snatched his things together and ran out of the trees. When he saw Pilgrim he said: "Brother, how did it go?" Pilgrim said: "I asked the Bodhisattva Lingji. With his Flying Dragon Staff he caught the monster. It turned out to be a yellow-haired marten that had become a spirit, and the Bodhisattva has taken him to Vulture Peak to see the Tathagata. Come with me into the cave to save the master." Then at last the Idiot was happy.

The two of them charged inside. With the toothed rake and the iron staff they beat to death the whole den of cunning rabbits, fox demons, musk deer, and horned deer. Then they went to the back garden to free the master. When the master came out he asked: "How did you two take the monster? How did you come to save me?" Pilgrim told him the whole story of asking Lingji to take the demon. The master thanked them without end. The brothers found some plain food in the cave, made a meal of it with tea, and then went out the gate, found the main road, and set off toward the west.

What happened to them after this? Listen to the next chapter to find out.