Chapter 53

The Master of Meditation Swallows His Meal and Carries a Ghostly Womb; the Yellow Dame Draws Water to Undo the Unreal Child

Virtue must be tended to eight hundred; hidden merit hoarded to three thousand.Weigh alike things and self, kin and foe:so at last we fit the West's first wish.The Si demon's blades he did not fear;water and fire toiled for nothing, unblamed.Lord Lao subdued him and turned back toward heaven,laughing as he led the green ox home.

Let it be told: who was it that called from beside the road? The mountain god and the local earth god of Golden Mountain, holding up a purple-gold alms bowl and calling: "Holy monk, this bowl of rice the Great Sage Sun begged for you at a good house. Because you would not hear good counsel and blundered into the demon's hands, the Great Sage was put to ten thousand toils, and only today has freed you. Come and eat, and then go on your way — do not betray the Great Sage Sun's heart of reverence and devotion." Tripitaka said: "Disciple, we owe you everything — words cannot thank you. Had I known never to step beyond the circle's line, where would this mortal danger have come from?" Pilgrim said: "To speak plainly, Master: it is because you would not trust my circle that I had to see you snared in another's. What torments! A shame, a shame!" Bajie said: "What, there was another circle?" Pilgrim said: "All your doing, you clumsy brute with your wicked tongue — you got the Master into this great calamity, and sent old Monkey turning heaven upside down: the heavenly troops, water and fire, the Buddha's cinnabar sand — every one swept away by that gleaming white ring of his. The Tathagata dropped a hint to the arhats, and they told old Monkey the demon's true stock; then I begged Lord Lao to come and subdue him — and it was a green ox that had been working the mischief." Tripitaka, hearing this, was moved beyond words: "Worthy disciple, after this lesson, next time I will surely do as you say."

So the four of them divided the rice and ate it while it steamed. Pilgrim said: "This rice was cooked long ago — how does it still steam?" The earth god knelt: "This humble god knew the Great Sage's work was done, and heated it just now to serve you." Soon the meal was done; they packed up the bowl, took leave of the earth god and the mountain god, and the master at last climbed into the saddle and crossed the high mountains. Truly: "Thoughts rinsed, the heart washed clean, turned to the true awakening; fed on wind, sleeping by water, they journeyed west."

They traveled a long while, and it was the weather of early spring. And they heard —

Purple swallows murmuring; yellow orioles singing.The purple swallows murmur, drowsy of sweet beak; the yellow orioles sing in quick repeated notes.Fallen red covers the ground like spread brocade; fresh green fills the hills like piled cushions.On the ridges the green plums set like beans; before the cliffs old cypresses hold the clouds.The wilds are moist, the mist-light pale; the sand is warm, the sun's glow dusky.Here and there in garden groves the flowers burst their buds; the sun turns back upon the land, willow buds new green.

As they went they came suddenly upon a little river, water clear and bright, cold waves deep and still. The elder of the Tang reined in his horse to look, and far off, on the other bank, saw willow shade hanging green, with the faint show of a few thatched roofs. Pilgrim pointed from afar: "People live there — they must keep a ferry." Tripitaka said: "It looks the same on that side, yet I see no boat, and have not dared to say so." Bajie set down the luggage at once and shouted at the top of his voice: "Ferryman! Pole your boat over!" He had called several times when, from within the willow shade, creaking and groaning, a boat was poked out; and in no time it drew near this bank. The master and his disciples looked the boat over carefully — and truly:

Short oars parting the waves; light paddles riding the swell.Oil and paint brighten the cabin; the planked deck lies level over the cargo.At the bow an iron cable lies coiled; at the stern the steering house stands bright.Only a single reed of a boat, yet no less than one that ranges lakes and seas.Though it has no silken cable or ivory mast, it truly has fir posts and cassia oars.It cannot match the ten-thousand-li sacred vessel, but it can truly ferry the width of one river.Its comings and goings keep to the two banks; out and in, never beyond the old ferry crossing.

In a moment the boat nosed the bank, and the boatkeeper called: "Crossers — this way." Tripitaka urged his horse near to look. And what manner of person was this boatkeeper?

A brocade kerchief wound on her head; black silk shoes on her feet.She wears a hundred-patch padded jacket, and at her waist a thousand-stitch sash of woven cloth.Her wrists are rough-skinned, her sinews hard; her eyes bleared, her brows creased, her face worn with age.Yet her voice is soft and fine as an oriole's turn — look close, and she is an old woman of the skirts.

Pilgrim came near the boat: "Are you the one who keeps the ferry?" The woman said: "I am." Pilgrim said: "Why is the boatman away, and the boatwoman left to pole?" The woman only smiled and made no answer, and pulled the gangplank up with her hands. Sha Monk shouldered the luggage aboard; Pilgrim helped the master up the plank; then the boat was straightened out, Bajie led the white horse on, and the plank was taken in. The woman pushed off and plied the oar, and in a moment they were across. They stepped out on the west bank; the elder had Sha Monk open the bundle and give her a few coins. The woman did not quibble over much or little; she tied the cable to a stake at the water's edge and, smiling broadly, went straight into the farmhouse.

Tripitaka, seeing how clear the water was, grew thirsty and told Bajie: "Take the bowl and scoop me some water to drink." The Idiot said: "I could use some myself." He took the bowl, scooped it full, and handed it to the master. The master drank a little less than half; more than half remained. The Idiot took it and drained it in one breath, then helped the master into the saddle. Master and disciples took the road west, and within half a watch the elder began to groan in the saddle: "My belly aches." Bajie, behind him, said: "Mine aches too, some." Sha Monk said: "You must have drunk cold water." Before the words were done the master moaned: "It hurts badly." Bajie also said: "It hurts badly." The two of them could hardly bear the pain, and little by little their bellies swelled. When they felt them with their hands there seemed to be clots of blood and lumps of flesh, rolling and tumbling without stop. Tripitaka, most uncomfortable, suddenly saw a farmhouse by the roadside with two straw wisps hung from the treetop. Pilgrim said: "Master, good news — that is a wine shop. We will go and beg some hot soup for you, and ask whether they sell medicine and get you a packet to cure this bellyache."

Tripitaka was much comforted and whipped on the white horse. In no time they were at the farmhouse gate and dismounted. Outside the door sat an old woman on a grass stool, twisting hemp. Pilgrim stepped up, made a salutation, and said: "Grandmother, we are poor monks from the Great Tang in the Land of the East. My master is the sworn brother of the Tang emperor; because we drank river water in crossing, his belly aches." The old woman laughed merrily: "So you drank of that river over there?" Pilgrim said: "We drank of the Clearwater River on the east." The old woman chuckled with delight: "What a pickle, what a pickle. Come in, all of you, and I will tell you about it."

Pilgrim helped the Tang monk along, and Sha Monk propped up Bajie; the two moaned and groaned, bellies thrust out, faces yellow and brows knotted with pain, and sat down in the thatched hut. Pilgrim kept calling: "Grandmother, be sure to heat some soup for my master — we will thank you for it." But the old woman did not heat soup; laughing, she ran off to the back, calling: "Come and look! Come and look!" Two or three women, neither young nor old, came shuffling out, and all stood goggling at the Tang monk and tittering. Pilgrim flew into a rage, gave a shout, and bared his teeth; the whole household stumbled and staggered backward in fright. Pilgrim stepped up, seized the old woman, and said: "Heat the soup quickly, and I will spare you." The old woman, trembling, said: "Grandfather! Hot soup will do no good — it cannot cure the ache in their bellies. Let me go and I will tell you." He let her go, and she said: "This is the Women's Kingdom of Western Liang. Our whole country is women; there are no men at all — that is why we were so pleased to see you. The water your master drank is bad water. That river is called the Mother-and-Child River. Outside our king's city there is a Welcoming-the-Sun post station, and outside the station gate a Womb-Mirroring Spring. Our people dare not drink that river's water until they are twenty and past. After drinking it they feel a pain in the belly and are with child. Three days later they go to the water of the Womb-Mirroring Spring at the Welcoming-the-Sun station and look. If the reflection shows a double shadow, the child is born. Your master drank of the Mother-and-Child River, and so has taken the seed of a child — and in a few days he will be brought to bed. How could hot soup cure that?"

Tripitaka, hearing this, went pale with fright: "Disciples — what are we to do?" Bajie, wriggling his hips and splaying his legs, groaned: "Grandfather! Bear a child? We are men — where would the birth canal open? How would we ever get it out?" Pilgrim laughed: "The ancients say: when the melon is ripe it drops of itself. When the time comes, it will surely split a hole under the ribs and crawl out." Bajie heard this and, trembling, could not bear the pain: "All is lost, all is lost — I am a dead man, a dead man." Sha Monk laughed: "Second brother, stop wriggling, stop wriggling — or you will hurt the child-bearing gut and make a sickness of the lying-in of it." The Idiot panicked all the more, tears standing in his eyes, and clutched at Pilgrim: "Brother, ask the grandmother where there are midwives with light hands, and engage a few beforehand. Just now the pangs come wave after wave — it must be the travail pains; soon, soon." Sha Monk laughed again: "Since you know the travail pains, second brother, do not keep squirming — you may burst the bag of waters."

Tripitaka groaned: "Grandmother, have you a doctor here? Let my disciple go buy a dose of miscarriage medicine, and be done with it." The old woman said: "Even with medicine it would do no good. But on the street due south of here stands Jieyang Mountain, and in the mountain a Cave of the Ruined Child, and in the cave a Womb-Dissolving Spring. Drink one mouthful of that spring's water and the child-seed is dissolved. But the water can no longer be had. Some years ago a Daoist came, calling himself the True Immortal As-You-Wish; he turned the Cave of the Ruined Child into the Gathering-Immortals Hermitage and keeps the Womb-Dissolving Spring to himself, and will not give it freely. Whoever wants water must bring flowers and gifts of ceremony — sheep, wine, plates of fruit — offer them in all sincerity, and then may beg one bowl of water of him. How would wandering monks like you find the money for all that? You can only endure, and wait out the birth." Pilgrim heard this and was delighted to his core: "Grandmother, how far is it from here to Jieyang Mountain?" The old woman said: "Thirty li." Pilgrim said: "Good, good. Master, set your heart at rest — old Monkey will fetch you some water to drink."

Good Great Sage! He gave his orders to Sha Monk: "Watch the master carefully. If this household is rude and tries to trick him, bring out your old arts, play the ghost, and frighten them, while I go for the water." Sha Monk took his orders. Then the old woman brought out a great earthenware bowl and handed it to Pilgrim: "Take this bowl, and be sure to fetch plenty — keep some by us against need." Pilgrim truly took the bowl, walked out of the hut, and rose away on a cloud. Only then did the old woman bow toward the empty sky: "Grandfather! This monk can ride the clouds!" And she went in and called the women out, and they bowed down before the Tang monk, calling him Arhat and Bodhisattva. On one side they heated soup and cooked a meal, and served the Tang monk — but of that no more.

Now the Great Sage Sun rode his somersault cloud, and in a little while a mountain top stood in the way of the cloud's corner. He checked the cloud-light, opened his eyes, and looked — a fine mountain! And see:

Hidden flowers spread brocade; wild grasses lay out blue.The gully waters run linked together; the stream clouds idle as one.Ravine upon ravine, thick with vines and gourds; peak on far peak, heavy with trees.Birds cry and wild geese pass; deer drink and apes climb.The green hills stand like painted screens; the blue cliffs rise like coiled chignons.The rolling dust of the world is truly hard to reach; the springs and stones, trickle on trickle, never tire the eye.Often one sees immortal boys going out to gather herbs; always one meets woodcutters shouldering firewood home.Truly no less than the scenery of Tiantai, and finer than the three peaks of Western Flower Mountain.

The Great Sage was still gazing at the mountain when, in the shade of the north slope, he saw a farmstead, and suddenly heard the barking of dogs. The Great Sage came down the mountain, straight to the place — and a fine spot it was. Look:

A little bridge spans the living water; thatched huts lean on the green mountain.Village dogs bark along the hedgerows; the hidden man comes and goes at his ease.

Soon he was at the gate, where an old Daoist sat cross-legged on the green sward. The Great Sage set down the bowl, came near, and made a salutation. The Daoist leaned forward and returned the bow: "Where do you come from? What business brings you to this poor hermitage?" Pilgrim said: "This poor monk is the duly commissioned pilgrim of the Great Tang of the Land of the East, bound for the Western Heaven for scriptures. Because my master unwarily drank of the Mother-and-Child River, his belly now aches and swells past bearing. The local folk say the child-seed has formed, and no medicine can cure it. I have learned that on Jieyang Mountain, in the Cave of the Ruined Child, there is a Womb-Dissolving Spring whose water can dissolve the seed. So I have come expressly to call on the True Immortal As-You-Wish and beg some spring water, to save my master. I trouble you, reverend Daoist, to point the way." The Daoist laughed: "This is the Cave of the Ruined Child — now made into the Gathering-Immortals Hermitage. And I am no one else but the eldest disciple of the lord the True Immortal As-You-Wish. What is your name? I will announce you." Pilgrim said: "I am the eldest disciple of the Dharma Master Tripitaka Tang; my humble name is Sun Wukong." The Daoist asked: "And where are your flowers and your gifts of wine?" Pilgrim said: "I am a passing monk lodging where I can; I brought none." The Daoist laughed: "How foolish you are! My old master guards the spring and has never given away a drop for nothing. Go back, prepare your gifts, and I will announce you; otherwise, please return. Do not hope for it, do not hope for it." Pilgrim said: "A kindness given is mightier than an imperial edict. Go in and say the name of old Monkey — he will surely do me the favor, or perhaps make me a present of the whole well."

Hearing this, the Daoist could only go in and report. The True Immortal was playing the qin; the Daoist waited for the piece to end, then said: "Master, there is a monk outside who calls himself Sun Wukong, eldest disciple of Tripitaka Tang, asking to beg water of the Womb-Dissolving Spring to save his master." The True Immortal might have let the words pass — but at the name Wukong rage rose in his heart and malice surged to his gall. He rose at once, left the qin couch, changed out of his plain robes into Daoist dress, took up an as-you-will golden hook, sprang out the hermitage gate, and cried: "Where is this Sun Wukong?" Pilgrim turned his head and saw how the True Immortal was dressed:

A star-studded cap on his head, streaming with color; a golden-threaded dharma robe of red on his body.Cloud shoes at his feet piled with brocade; a precious belt at his waist wound and gleaming.A pair of quilted stockings fine for treading waves; half-shown skirt borders flashing embroidered plush.In his hand an as-you-will golden hook, its socket keen, its shaft long as a python dragon.Phoenix eyes bright and gleaming, brows set sharp and upright; steel teeth pointed, his mouth turned red.Beneath his chin a beard that streams like raging fire; at his temples red hair, short and shaggy.In looks as fell as Marshal Wen — only his robes and cap are not the same.

Pilgrim, seeing him, joined his palms and saluted: "This poor monk is Sun Wukong." The master laughed: "Are you truly Sun Wukong, or do you borrow the name?" Pilgrim said: "Hear how the master talks. The saying goes: a gentleman on the road does not change his name, nor seated change his surname. I am Wukong — how could I borrow it?" The master said: "Do you know me?" Pilgrim said: "Since I returned to the right and entered the Buddha's gate, holding to the monks' teaching in sincerity, I have been climbing mountains and fording rivers, and the friends of my early days have all dropped away; I have not paid my visits, and scarcely know your face. Just now, asking at the houses west of the Mother-and-Child River, I learned that you are the True Immortal As-You-Wish — that is how I know you." The master said: "You walk your road, I cultivate my truth — why come visiting me?" Pilgrim said: "Because my master unwarily drank the water of the Mother-and-Child River and aches with child. I have come expressly to this immortal dwelling to beg one bowl of Womb-Dissolving water, to free him from his trouble."

The master's eyes went hard: "Is your master Tripitaka Tang?" Pilgrim said: "The very one, the very one." The master ground his teeth in hate: "And have you ever met a certain Great King Holy Infant?" Pilgrim said: "That is the byname of the monster Red Boy of the Fire Cloud Cave at the Withered Pine Gully on Number Mountain. What has the True Immortal to do with him?" The master said: "He is my nephew; I am brother to the Bull Demon King. A letter came from my elder brother's house reporting that Tripitaka Tang's eldest disciple, that shameless Sun Wukong, had done him in. I had nowhere on earth to find you for revenge — and now you come looking for me, and ask for water too!" Pilgrim said with an apologetic smile: "Master, you are mistaken. Your elder brother was once my friend too; in my young days we swore brotherhood, seven of us. Only I did not know your honored house, and so failed to call. Now your nephew has come to a fine pass — he attends the Bodhisattva Guanyin as the Boy of Wealth-in-Goodness, and the likes of us cannot match him. Why blame me instead?"

The master shouted: "Brazen ape! Still twisting your clever tongue. For my nephew, which is better — to be free and a king, or another man's slave? None of your impudence — take my hook!" The Great Sage met it with the iron staff: "Master, none of this talk of fighting — just give me some spring water and be done." The master cursed: "Brazen ape, you know not life from death. If you can hold me three rounds, you shall have your water; if not, I will chop you to mincemeat, and so avenge my nephew." The Great Sage cursed: "You calamity that cannot tell up from down! If it is fighting you want, come out here and see my staff." The master met him hand to hand with the as-you-will hook. The two had a rare fight there at the Gathering-Immortals Hermitage:

The holy monk ate by mistake the water of the womb; the Pilgrim comes seeking the Immortal As-You-Wish.Who knew the True Immortal was a demon all along, leaning on his strength to guard the Womb-Dissolving Spring?And when they met to speak of old grudges, the quarrel could not go as either wished.Word gave way to word, and gall to gall; hate bred hate — he must avenge his kin.This one, for a master's hurt, comes begging water;that one, for a nephew lost, will yield no spring.The as-you-will hook is deadlier than a scorpion's sting;the gold-banded staff is fiercer than a dragon's crest.Thrust on thrust at the chest, he shows his might;a slanting hook at the ankle, he shows his mystery.A hidden-hand staff thrown lands a heavy blow;an over-shoulder hook sweeps in — a whip at the head.One staff locks the waist — the eagle takes the sparrow;three hooks press the crown — the mantis takes the cicada.Back and forth they strive for victory;round and round they wheel and turn again.Hook entangles, staff strikes — no first, no last;and on neither side can a beating yet be seen.

The master and the Great Sage fought a dozen rounds and more, and the master could not stand against the Great Sage. The Great Sage pressed ever harder, one staff like whirling shooting stars, striking wherever he found the head. The master's strength gave out; trailing his as-you-will hook behind him he fled up the mountain.

The Great Sage did not chase him, but came to the hermitage to look for water. The Daoist had already shut the gate. The Great Sage, bowl in hand, came up to the gate, put his whole strength into one kick, smashed the gate in, and strode in. He saw the Daoist crouched over the wellhead; at the Great Sage's roar he raised the staff to strike, and the Daoist fled back. He had just found the well bucket and was about to draw water when the master came hurrying up and, with the as-you-will hook, caught the Great Sage by the foot and threw him — a fall flat on his face. The Great Sage got up and struck out with the iron staff; the master slipped aside, holding his hook: "Let us see you get my water now!" The Great Sage cursed: "Come up here, come up here! I will beat the life out of you, you calamity!" The master would not come forward to fight; he simply stood his ground and would not let the Great Sage draw. The Great Sage, seeing him hold still, swung the iron staff in his left hand and worked the bucket with his right. But as the rope went rattling down, the master came at him again with the hook. The Great Sage could not hold him off with one hand; another hook caught his foot and hauled him into a stumble, and down the well went rope and bucket together. The Great Sage said: "This fellow is past all manners." He got up, swung the staff with both hands, and laid on at him head and face, right and left. The master ran off as before, not daring to face him. The Great Sage would have gone for the water again — but there was no bucket now, and he feared the hook that would come hauling at him; he thought to himself: "I will go and call in a helper first."

Good Great Sage! He wheeled his cloud and came straight to the farmhouse door, calling: "Sha Monk!" Inside, the Tang monk was moaning with the pain and Bajie groaning without pause; hearing the call, the two rejoiced: "Sha Monk — Wukong has come." Sha Monk hurried out the door to meet him: "Big brother — is the water fetched?" The Great Sage came in and told the Tang monk the whole story. Tripitaka dropped tears: "Disciples, what are we to do?" The Great Sage said: "I have come to call brother Sha to go with me. At the hermitage, old Monkey will engage that fellow in battle, and Sha Monk can slip in and fetch the water in the meantime to save you." Tripitaka said: "If both of you who are well go off, and leave us two who are sick — who will wait on us?" The old woman put in: "Venerable arhat, set your heart at rest. We have no need of your disciples; my house will look after you ourselves. When you came this morning we truly felt tenderness for you; and when we saw this bodhisattva arrive on cloud and mist, we knew you for arhats and bodhisattvas, and would never dare harm you again."

Pilgrim gave a snort: "A pack of women — who could you harm?" The old woman laughed: "Grandfather! It is your good luck that brought you to our house. Had you come to any second house, you would not have gone away whole." Bajie groaned: "Not gone away whole — how so?" The old woman said: "Our whole family, four or five of us, are well along in years; the games of love are all behind us, and so we would not harm you. But at any second house, old and young together, the young ones would never let you pass: they would want to couple with you. And if you would not, they would take your lives and cut the flesh from your bodies to make scent bags." Bajie said: "In that case I would come to no harm. They are all sweet-smelling, good for scent bags; I am a rank pig — cut my flesh and it is rank still, so I may go unharmed." Pilgrim laughed: "Save your wit and save your strength — you will want them for the birth." The old woman said: "No dallying — go for the water quickly." Pilgrim said: "Have you a well bucket? Lend me one to use." The old woman went to the back and brought out a well bucket, and coiled a rope, and handed them to Sha Monk. Sha Monk said: "We will take two ropes, in case the well is deep and one runs short."

Sha Monk took the bucket and rope and went out with the Great Sage, and together they rode off on the cloud; in less than half a watch they were at the borders of Jieyang Mountain. They lowered the cloud and came straight to the outside of the hermitage. The Great Sage instructed Sha Monk: "Take the bucket and rope and hide to one side. When old Monkey shows himself and calls for battle, and the two of us are at the thick of it, slip in on the moment, get the water, and be off." Sha Monk obeyed to the letter.

The Great Sage Sun drew the iron staff and called loudly at the gate: "Open! Open!" The gatekeeper saw him and rushed in to report: "Master, that Sun Wukong has come again." The master's heart raged: "This brazen monkey is the height of insolence. I have long heard he had some skill — today I know it indeed; that staff of his is truly hard to stand against." The Daoist said: "Master, his skill is high, but you are not beneath him — a very match for him." The master said: "In the two rounds before, he had the better of me." The Daoist said: "Though you lost the first two rounds, that was only his one wild rush; but in the two times after, when he came to draw water, you hooked him into two falls — is that not an even hand? Since he could do nothing and went off, and now has come again, it must be that Tripitaka's womb is formed and his body heavy, and the master is racked with complaint, so that he comes because he must. Keep your same cool heart toward him, and I warrant our master wins beyond a doubt."

The True Immortal heard this, and spring filled his bosom with delight; smiling broadly, with a gust of martial wind, he leveled the as-you-will hook, came out the gate, and shouted: "Brazen ape! What have you come for now?" The Great Sage said: "Only for water." The True Immortal said: "The spring is my family's well. Emperor or chancellor must come with flowers and gifts, sheep and wine, to beg, and get only a drop; and you, my sworn enemy, dare come with empty hands to take it?" The Great Sage said: "Truly you will not give it?" The True Immortal said: "Not a drop, not a drop." The Great Sage cursed: "Brazen calamity! If there is no water, look at my staff!" He dropped into a stance, lunged full into his arms, and without a word began to rain blows on his head. The True Immortal swung aside, and hurriedly fenced him off with the hook. This bout was finer than the last — a good fight:

The gold-banded staff, the as-you-will hook — two men in fury, each with his grudge.Sand flies and stones run, and heaven and earth darken; dust is hurled and raised, and sun and moon grow sad.The Great Sage, to save his master, comes for water;the demon immortal, for his nephew's sake, will grant no prayer.Two houses strain together; in one place they stake their rest.Gritted teeth contend for victory; set jaws decide the hard and the soft.They add device to device and shake out ever more power, spraying cloud and breathing mist till ghosts and gods grow anxious.Thud and clash ring hook on staff; shouts and roars go shaking the hills.The gale rolls on, hurrying the trees; the air of slaughter drifts past the Dipper and the Ox.The more the Great Sage fights, the more he delights;the more the True Immortal strikes, the more he knots himself to it.With heart set and purpose set they war on:until life or death is settled, neither will stop.

The two of them exchanged blows outside the hermitage gate, hopping and twirling, fighting down to the foot of the slope, holding each other bitterly — but of that no more.

Now Sha Monk, bucket in hand, burst in through the gate. The Daoist stood barring the way by the well: "Who are you, to come for water?" Sha Monk set down the bucket, brought out the demon-quelling staff, wasted no words on him, and struck at his head. The Daoist could not dodge in time; his left arm was broken, and he fell to the ground fighting for his life. Sha Monk cursed: "I would beat the life out of you, beast of calamity — but you have a man's body, and I pity you. I will let you go. Stand aside and let me draw water." The Daoist, crying to heaven and earth, crawled off to the back. Only then did Sha Monk fill his bucket to the brim at the well, walk out the hermitage gate, mount the cloud and mist, and call to Pilgrim as he went: "Big brother, I have the water and am away! Let him be, let him be!"

The Great Sage heard, and only then held the hook off with his staff: "I would have slaughtered every one of you — but you have broken no law; and then again, for the sake of your elder brother the Bull Demon King. Just now, when he hooked me twice, I could not get the water away. And this time — mine was the trick of luring the tiger from the mountain: I drew you out to fight while my brother-in-the-law fetched the water. If old Monkey cared to show his real skill against you, never mind one True Immortal As-You-Wish — another few of you, and I would beat them dead all the same. Truly, better to spare than to slay: I will let you live a few years more. But after this, if any come for water, you must not squeeze them for gifts." The demon immortal knew neither good nor bad: he postured once and came at his foot again with the hook. The Great Sage slipped past the hook's head, closed on him, and shouted: "Stand still!" The demon immortal, caught unready, was knocked sprawling and could not scramble up. The Great Sage snatched the as-you-will hook away, snapped it in two; then took the halves and broke them again, into four pieces, and flung them on the ground: "Brazen beast! Any more impudence?" The demon immortal, trembling all over, swallowed the shame without a word. The Great Sage, laughing, rose up on his cloud. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

True lead, if you would smelt it, wants true water; true water tempering makes the true mercury whole.True mercury and true lead, without mother's seed; the cinnabar of the spirit, the elixir of the soul, is the immortal pill.The child vainly knotted into a womb-shape; the Earth Mother works her cure and counts it nothing hard.Push over the side gates and honor the true teaching; the lord of the heart, his wish fulfilled, comes home smiling.

The Great Sage rode his auspicious light, overtook Sha Monk, and with the true water in hand came back in joy to where they had left the others. He lowered the cloud and came straight to the farmhouse, where Bajie leaned against the doorpost, belly out, groaning. Pilgrim crept up and said quietly: "Idiot, when did you take to the lying-in room?" The Idiot, flustered: "Brother, no jokes! Have you brought the water?" Pilgrim would tease him further, but Sha Monk came up behind, laughing: "The water is here, the water is here." Tripitaka, bearing the pain, raised himself: "Disciples, you have toiled for me." The old woman too was overjoyed, and the whole household came out and bowed: "Bodhisattvas! A rare thing, a rare thing." She hastily took a flowered porcelain cup, dipped half a cupful, and handed it to Tripitaka: "Reverend master, drink it slowly — one swallow dissolves the child-seed." Bajie said: "Never mind the cup — give me the bucket and let me drink it down." The old woman said: "Old master, you would be the death of me! Drink a bucket of it, and it would melt your very guts and belly away." That frightened the Idiot out of his fooling, and he too drank half a cup.

In less time than a meal the two of them were gripped with cramps, and they heard the bowels rumble and gurgle three or five rounds. After the rumbling the Idiot could hold no more, and both ends let go together. The Tang monk too could not hold it, and wanted a quiet place to relieve himself. Pilgrim said: "Master, by no means go out where the wind blows — I am anxious for you: a gust now, and it might turn into a lying-in sickness." The old woman brought two clean vessels at once and had them make use of them. In a little while, after several rounds apiece, the pain began to subside; the swelling gradually went down, and the clots of blood and flesh dissolved. The old woman's household then boiled some white-rice gruel to build them up. Bajie said: "Grandmother, my body is solid — no need to build me up. Heat me some water for a bath, and then I will enjoy the gruel." Sha Monk said: "Second brother, no bathing. A woman in childbed who touches water and draughts falls ill." Bajie said: "I never had a full birth — it was only a miscarriage, at that. What is there to fear? A wash to get clean." And truly the old woman heated water, and the two of them washed their hands and feet. The Tang monk managed two bowls of gruel; Bajie ate a dozen bowls or more, and still asked for more. Pilgrim laughed: "Clumsy brute, eat less — do not make a sandbag of your belly; it does not look well." Bajie said: "No matter, no matter — I am no sow. What is there to fear?" And the household truly went off to get supper ready.

The old woman said to the Tang monk: "Reverend master, make me a gift of this water." Pilgrim said: "Idiot — no more water?" Bajie said: "My belly does not ache any more; the child-seed must be scattered. I am easy and empty — what would I do with water?" Pilgrim said: "Since both of them are well, give the water to the house." The old woman thanked Pilgrim, put the water that was left into an earthen jar, and buried it in the ground behind the house, saying to old and young: "This jar of water is the price of my coffin." The whole household rejoiced without exception; they made ready a vegetarian meal and set out table and stools. The Tang monk's company ate, and then rested quietly through the night.

At dawn the next day the master and his disciples thanked the old woman's household and left the farmhouse. Tripitaka Tang climbed into the saddle; Sha Monk shouldered the bags; the Great Sage Sun led the way in front; Zhu Bajie gathered up the reins. And now truly:

The sins of the mouth washed clean, the body clean; the mortal womb dissolved, the frame at ease in nature.

But what business yet awaited them at the borders of the kingdom? Listen to the next chapter to find out.

The elder swallows his food and carries a ghostly child; The Yellow Dame fetches water to dissolve the false fetus

Virtue must be cultivated for eight hundred; hidden merit must be stored up to three thousand.Balance things and self, kin and foe alike—only then does it fit the true vow of the Western Heaven.The demon Si did not flinch from blades; water and fire toiled in vain, without a scratch.Lord Lao subdued him and turned back to Heaven, laughing as he led the green ox away.

Now, who was it calling by the road? The mountain god and the local earth god of Gold Mountain, holding up a purple-gold alms bowl and calling: "Holy monk! This bowl of rice was begged by the Great Sage Sun from a kind house. Because you would not listen to good advice and blundered into the demon's hands, the Great Sage endured every hardship before he could save you today. Eat this rice first, then go on your way, and do not betray the Great Sage Sun's loyal and filial heart." Tripitaka said: "Disciple, I owe you everything; words of thanks can never be enough. Had I known to stay inside the circle's mark, where would this deadly danger have come from?" Pilgrim said: "I will not hide it from you, Master: because you would not trust my circle, you had to suffer under someone else's ring instead. What suffering! A shame, a shame!" Bajie said: "What, there was another ring?" Pilgrim said: "It was all you clumsy fool with your wicked mouth and tongue, getting the Master into this great disaster, and making Old Sun turn heaven and earth over—calling in the heavenly troops, water and fire, and the Buddha's cinnabar sand, and every last thing swept up by that one white, gleaming ring. The Tathagata gave the arhats a hint, and they told Old Sun the demon's origin; only then was Lord Lao asked to subdue him. It was a green ox playing the demon." Tripitaka, hearing this, was boundlessly grateful: "Good disciple, after this, the next time I will certainly do as you say."

So the four of them shared the rice, and the rice was still steaming hot. Pilgrim said: "This rice was cooked long ago. How is it still hot?" The earth god knelt: "This little god knew the Great Sage's work was done, so I heated it just now and waited on you." Soon the meal was done, the bowl was packed, and they took leave of the earth god and the mountain god. The master climbed into the saddle and rode on, crossing the high mountains. Truly: with their thoughts rinsed and their hearts washed clean, they turned toward true awakening; fed on the wind and lodged by the water, they journeyed west.

They traveled a long time, and it turned to the weather of early spring. They heard:

Purple swallows twitter; yellow orioles sing.The purple swallows twitter till their sweet beaks tire; the yellow orioles sing, their clever notes coming fast.Fallen petals cover the ground like spread brocade; fresh green clothes the hills like piled cushions.On the ridges the green plums set their fruit; before the cliffs the old cypresses hold the clouds.The fields are moist and the mist is pale; the sand is warm and the sunlight amber.In several gardens the flowers open their buds; the sun returns to the earth, and the willow buds are new.

As they went, they came upon a small river, the water clear and bright, the cold waves deep and still. The Tang elder reined in his horse to look. Across the river he saw drooping willow shade and, half-hidden, a few thatched cottages. Pilgrim pointed from afar: "There are people over there. They must run a ferry." Tripitaka said: "I see something over there like this side, but I saw no boat, so I said nothing." Bajie set down the luggage and shouted at the top of his voice: "Ferryman! Pole your boat over here!" He called several times, and from inside the willow shade came the creak and groan of a boat being poled out; before long it was near this bank. Master and disciples looked the boat over carefully. Truly:

Short oars part the waves; light paddles ride the ripples.The cabin is painted and oiled in bright colors; the deck boards fill the level hold.At the bow an iron cable coils in a nest; at the stern the steering house stands bright.Though it is only a one-reed craft, it is as good as sailing lakes or crossing seas.It has no brocade cables or ivory masts, but it truly has pine posts and cassia oars.It cannot match the divine ships that run ten thousand li, but it can truly cross the width of one river.Back and forth, only between the two banks; in and out, never beyond the old ferry crossing.

In a moment the boat touched the bank, and the boat-woman called: "Crossers! Come this way." Tripitaka led his horse forward to look. And what was the boat-woman like?

A brocade kerchief wrapped on her head, black silk shoes on her feet.She wore a hundred-patch padded jacket, and her skirt was bound with a thousand-stitch sash of cloth.Her wrists were rough-skinned and her sinews hard; her eyes bleared, her brows wrinkled, her face withered.Her voice was soft and fine as an oriole's warble—but up close she was an old woman of the skirts.

Pilgrim went near the boat: "Are you the ferry?" The woman said: "I am." Pilgrim said: "Why is the ferryman not here, and the ferry-woman poling the boat?" The woman only smiled, did not answer, and pulled up the gangplank with her hand. Sha Monk carried the luggage aboard; Pilgrim helped the master up the plank; then they squared the boat, Bajie led the white horse on, and the plank was taken in. The woman poled off and plied her oar, and in a moment they were across. Once they stood on the west bank, the elder told Sha Monk to open the bundle and give her a few coins. The woman did not haggle over the amount; she tied the cable to a post by the water and walked off smiling into her cottage.

Tripitaka, seeing the water so clear, felt thirsty and told Bajie: "Take the bowl and scoop me some water to drink." The Idiot said: "I was wanting some myself." He took the bowl, scooped it full, and handed it to the master. The master drank a little less than half and handed it back with more than half left; the Idiot took it and drained it at one draught, then helped the master onto his horse. Master and disciples took the road west. In less than half a watch, the elder groaned on his horse: "My belly aches." Bajie, behind, said: "Mine aches a little too." Sha Monk said: "Must be the cold water." Before he finished, the master moaned: "It hurts badly." Bajie said: "It hurts badly too." The two of them could bear the pain no longer, and their bellies gradually swelled. When they felt them with their hands, there seemed to be lumps of flesh and blood inside, squirming and turning without stop. Tripitaka, very uncomfortable, suddenly saw a farmhouse by the road with two straw bunches hanging from the treetop. Pilgrim said: "Master, good news—that is a wine shop over there. Let us go beg some hot soup for you, and ask if any doctor is near. We will get some medicine and treat your bellyache."

Tripitaka was delighted and whipped on the white horse. In no time they reached the farmhouse door and dismounted. Outside the door an old woman sat on a straw stool, spinning hemp. Pilgrim went up, made a salutation, and said: "Grandmother, we are poor monks from the Great Tang in the Land of the East. My master is the sworn brother of the Tang emperor. After drinking river water on the crossing, his belly aches." The old woman laughed merrily: "So you drank water from the river over there?" Pilgrim said: "We drank from this Clearwater River on the east." The old woman laughed with glee: "What fun, what fun! Come in, all of you, and I will tell you something."

Pilgrim helped the Tang monk in, and Sha Monk helped Bajie. The two groaned and moaned, bellies sticking out, their faces yellow and their brows knotted with pain, and sat down in the thatched room. Pilgrim kept calling: "Grandmother, be sure to boil some hot soup for my master; we will thank you for it." The old woman did not boil any soup; she ran off smiling to the back, calling: "Come and look, come and look!" From inside two or three middle-aged women pattered out and gathered around the Tang monk, giggling at him. Pilgrim flew into a rage, gave a shout, and bared his teeth. The whole household staggered and scrambled off backward. Pilgrim stepped up, grabbed the old woman, and said: "Boil the soup quickly, and I will spare you." The old woman, trembling, said: "Oh, sir! Even if I boil soup, it will do no good; it cannot cure the ache in those two bellies. Let me go, and let me explain." Pilgrim let her go, and she said: "This is the Women's Kingdom of West Liang. Our whole country is women; there are no men at all. That is why we were so glad to see you. The water your master drank is bad water. That river is called the Mother-and-Child River. Outside our queen's city there is also a Facing-the-Sun relay station, and outside its gate is the Womb-Reflecting Spring. Here, only a woman of twenty years or more dares to drink that river's water. After drinking it, her belly aches and she is with child. Three days later, she goes to the Facing-the-Sun Station and looks at herself in the water of the Womb-Reflecting Spring. If her reflection has two images, the child will be born. Your master drank the water of the Mother-and-Child River, so a child has formed in him, and in a few days he will give birth. How could hot soup cure that?"

Tripitaka heard this and turned pale with shock: "Disciple, what are we to do?" Bajie, writhing and groaning, said: "Oh sir! Giving birth—and we are men! Where would the birth passage open? How would it ever come out?" Pilgrim laughed: "The men of old said: 'When the melon is ripe, it drops of itself.' When the time comes, one of you will surely split a hole under the ribs and crawl out." Bajie, hearing this, trembled and could bear the pain no longer: "It is over, it is over. Dead, dead." Sha Monk laughed: "Second brother, stop twisting, stop twisting—you may only sprain the child-bearing gut and turn it into a sickness before the birth." The Idiot panicked all the more, tears in his eyes, and grabbed Pilgrim: "Brother, ask the grandmother where there is a gentle-handed midwife, and hire two or three in advance. The baby is moving in waves just now, hard—this must be the labor pains. It is coming soon, it is coming soon." Sha Monk laughed again: "Second brother, since you know it is labor pains, stop twisting about—you may burst the bag of waters."

Tripitaka groaned: "Grandmother, is there a doctor here? Send my disciple to buy an abortion medicine, to bring the child down and be done with it." The old woman said: "Even with medicine it would do no good. But on the street due south of here there is Woman-Solving Mountain. In that mountain is the Ruined-Children Cave, and in that cave is the Fetus-Dropping Spring. One mouthful of that spring's water, and the seed of the child dissolves. But no one can get the water now. Some years ago a Taoist came, calling himself the True Immortal As-You-Will. He turned the Ruined-Children Cave into the Gathering Immortals Hermitage and guards the Fetus-Dropping Spring, refusing to give it out freely. Whoever wants water must bring gifts—flowers, cloth, sheep, wine, plates of fruit—presented with sincere respect, and even then he grants one bowl of water. How could you wandering monks raise so much money? You can only endure and wait for the time of birth." Pilgrim, hearing this, was overjoyed: "Grandmother, how far is it from here to Woman-Solving Mountain?" The old woman said: "Thirty li." Pilgrim said: "Good, good. Master, set your heart at rest. Old Sun will fetch some water for you to drink."

Good Great Sage! He told Sha Monk: "Watch the master closely. If these people are rude and try to trick him, bring out your old skills—sham and frighten them. I am off to fetch the water." Sha Monk obeyed. The old woman brought out a big earthenware bowl and gave it to Pilgrim: "Take this bowl. Be sure to bring back plenty, and leave some with us against a time of need." Pilgrim took the bowl, left the cottage, and flew off on a cloud. The old woman bowed toward the sky: "Oh my! This monk can ride the clouds!" Then she went in and called out the women, who knelt and bowed before the Tang monk, calling him Arhat and Bodhisattva. On one side they boiled soup and prepared a meal to serve him—and no more of that.

The Great Sage Sun rose on the somersault cloud, and before long a mountain top blocked the cloud's corner. He pressed down the cloud-light, opened his eyes, and looked. What a mountain! See:

Secluded flowers spread like brocade; wild grasses lie like blue-green cloth.The stream waters fall linked together; the creek clouds drift as idle as can be.Fold upon fold, the valleys are dense with vines; far off, the peaks are heavy with trees.Birds call and wild geese pass; deer drink and monkeys climb.The green mounts stand like folding screens; the blue cliffs rise like coiled hair-knots.Rolling dust makes them truly hard to reach, but the trickling springs and stones one never tires of watching.Often you see immortal boys going out to gather herbs; often you meet woodcutters coming home with loads of firewood.Truly it is no less than the scene of Mount Tiantai, and finer than the Three Peaks of the Western Flower Mountain.

The Great Sage was still looking over the mountain when, in a shaded spot, he saw a manor and heard dogs barking. The Great Sage went down the mountain straight to the place—what a fine spot it was. Look:

A little bridge crosses living water; thatched huts lean on the green hills.Village dogs bark along the hedge; the quiet dwellers come and go at their ease.

Before long he reached the door and saw an old Taoist sitting cross-legged on the green turf. The Great Sage set down the bowl, came near, and saluted. The Taoist, rising slightly, returned the bow: "Where do you come from, and what business brings you to our little hermitage?" Pilgrim said: "This poor monk is sent under imperial commission from the Great Tang of the East to fetch scriptures from the Western Heaven. My master drank the water of the Mother-and-Child River by mistake, and now his belly aches and is swollen past bearing. I asked the local people, who say a child has formed in him and no medicine can cure it. I have learned that on Woman-Solving Mountain, in the Ruined-Children Cave, there is the Fetus-Dropping Spring, which can dissolve the child. So I have come specially to call on the True Immortal As-You-Will and beg some spring water to save my master. I trouble you, old Taoist, to show me the way." The Taoist laughed: "This is the Ruined-Children Cave, now renamed the Gathering Immortals Hermitage. And I am no stranger: I am the eldest disciple of the lord True Immortal As-You-Will. What is your name, that I may announce you?" Pilgrim said: "I am the eldest disciple of the Dharma Master Tripitaka Tang; my humble name is Sun Wukong." The Taoist asked: "And where are your gift flowers and your wine offering?" Pilgrim said: "I am a passing monk with no fixed lodging; I have brought none." The Taoist laughed: "How foolish you are! My old master guards the mountain spring and has never given it away free. Go back, prepare your gifts, and then I will announce you. Otherwise, please leave. Do not hope, do not hope." Pilgrim said: "A favor weighs more than an imperial edict. Go in and speak the name of Old Sun. He will surely do me the favor—perhaps he will throw in the well too."

Hearing this, the Taoist had no choice but to go in and announce him. The True Immortal was playing the zither; the Taoist waited until the tune was over before saying: "Master, there is a monk outside who says he is Sun Wukong, eldest disciple of Tripitaka Tang, asking for Fetus-Dropping Spring water to save his master." The True Immortal would have let the words pass, but the moment he heard the name Wukong, rage rose in his heart and malice in his gall. He rose quickly, stepped down from the zither couch, changed out of his plain robes into Taoist dress, took up his as-you-will golden hook, sprang out the hermitage gate, and called: "Where is this Sun Wukong?" Pilgrim turned his head and saw how the True Immortal was dressed:

On his head a starry cap of flying, flashing color; on his body a red dharma robe stitched with gold thread.Cloud shoes on his feet heaped with brocade; a precious sash at his waist wound with fine work.A pair of brocade water-walking socks; half his skirt hem flashing with embroidered plush.In his hand the as-you-will golden hook, its blade sharp and its shaft long as a python or a dragon.Phoenix eyes gleaming, brows standing stiff; steel teeth pointed, his mouth turning red.Under his chin a beard streaming like fierce fire; at his temples short, bushy red hair.His looks are as fierce as General Wen's—only his cap and gown are different.

Pilgrim saw him, pressed his palms together in salute, and said: "This poor monk is Sun Wukong." The master laughed: "Are you really Sun Wukong, or are you just borrowing the name?" Pilgrim said: "Listen to the man! As the saying goes, 'A gentleman walking does not change his name, and sitting does not change his surname.' I am Wukong. How could I be borrowing a name?" The master said: "Do you know me?" Pilgrim said: "Since I turned to the true way and entered the Buddhist faith, holding sincerely to its teaching, I have been climbing mountains and fording rivers, and I have lost touch with the friends of my youth; I never got around to visiting them, so I hardly know your honored face. Just now, asking the way at the homes west of the Mother-and-Child River, I heard that you, sir, are the True Immortal As-You-Will, and so I know you now." The master said: "You walk your road, and I cultivate my truth. Why do you come visiting me?" Pilgrim said: "My master drank the water of the Mother-and-Child River by mistake; his belly aches and a child has formed. I have come specially to your immortal dwelling to beg a bowl of Fetus-Dropping Spring water, to free my master from his trouble."

The master, glaring, said: "Is your master Tripitaka Tang?" Pilgrim said: "Exactly, exactly." The master, grinding his teeth in hate, said: "Did you ever meet a certain Great King Holy Infant?" Pilgrim said: "That is the nickname of the monster Red Boy, of the Fire Cloud Cave at Withered Pine Gully on Howl Mountain. Why does the True Immortal ask about him?" The master said: "He is my nephew. I am the Bull Demon King's brother. Not long ago a letter came from my elder brother's house reporting that Sun Wukong, Tripitaka Tang's eldest disciple, a shameless scoundrel, had done him in. I have been looking everywhere for you to take my revenge, and here you come looking for me—and asking for water too!" Pilgrim said with an apologetic smile: "Sir, you are mistaken. Your elder brother was once my friend too; in our young days we became sworn brothers, seven of us. Only I did not know your honored house, and so never paid my respects. And now your nephew has come into a good thing: he follows the Bodhisattva Guanyin and has become the boy Good Wealth. Even the likes of us cannot match that. Why blame me instead?"

The master shouted: "You brazen ape! Still twisting your clever tongue! Tell me: is it better for my nephew to be a free king, or a slave to another? None of your impudence—take my hook!" The Great Sage parried with the iron staff: "Sir, no talk of fighting. Just give me some spring water, and I will go." The master cursed: "Brazen ape! You do not know death. If you can hold out three rounds against me, I will give you water. If not, I will chop you to mincemeat, and that will avenge my nephew." The Great Sage cursed: "You wretched fiend that cannot tell up from down! If you want a fight, stand off and see my staff!" The master met him with the as-you-will hook. The two fought a fine fight before the Gathering Immortals Hermitage:

The holy monk drank by mistake the water that makes a child; Pilgrim comes looking for the As-You-Will Immortal.Who knew the True Immortal was himself a monster, holding the Fetus-Dropping Spring by force?When they met and spoke of old grudges, the contest would never go as either wished.Word against word bred rancor; intent evil and temper fierce, each set on revenge.One, for his master's life in danger, comes begging water; the other, for a nephew lost, will yield no spring.The as-you-will hook is strong as scorpion venom; the gold-banded staff is fierce as a dragon's crest.Thrusting wildly at the chest, he shows his might; hooking aslant at the feet, he displays his subtlety.The underhand staff-strike lands heavy where it hurts; the over-shoulder hook sweeps up like a whip at the head.One staff locks the waist—an eagle gripping a sparrow; three hooks press the crown—a mantis pouncing on a cicada.Back and forth they fight for the win; round after round the two wheel and return.Hook and staff, blow on blow, with no lag between—and no one can say on which side the victory falls.

The master fought the Great Sage a dozen rounds or more and could not hold against him. The Great Sage grew fiercer still, one staff whirling like a rolling meteor, striking wherever it found the head. The master's strength gave out; he dragged his as-you-will hook backward and fled up the mountain.

The Great Sage did not chase him but went into the hermitage to find the water. The Taoist had already shut the gate. The Great Sage, bowl in hand, came to the door, put all his strength into one kick, smashed the hermitage door, and pushed inside. He saw the Taoist crouching over the well curb; the Great Sage gave a shout and raised his staff to strike, and the Taoist ran off backward. Pilgrim had just found the well bucket and was about to draw water when the master came rushing round to the front and, with his as-you-will hook, hooked the Great Sage's foot and threw him down flat on his face. The Great Sage got up and went at him with the iron staff. The master slipped aside, held up his hook, and said: "Let us see you get my water!" The Great Sage cursed: "Come up here, come up here! I will beat this fiend of yours to death!" The master would not come forward to fight; he just barred the way and would not let the Great Sage draw water. Seeing him stand fast, the Great Sage swung the iron staff in his left hand and worked the bucket with his right. The moment the rope rattled down, the master came again with his hook. One hand could not hold the staff against him; the master hooked his foot once more and gave him such a pull that Pilgrim reeled and fell, rope and all, down the well. The Great Sage said: "This fellow is truly without manners." He climbed out, swung the staff with both hands, and belted away at him, head and face. The master ran off again, not daring to meet him. The Great Sage wanted to draw water again, but the bucket was gone, and he was afraid of another hook and pull. He thought to himself: "I must go call in a helper."

Good Great Sage! He turned his cloud and came straight to the farmhouse door, calling: "Sha Monk!" Inside, the Tang monk was groaning with the pain, and Zhu Bajie moaning without pause. Hearing the call, the two cried gladly: "Sha Monk, Wukong has come!" Sha Monk hurried out to meet him: "Big brother, have you got the water?" The Great Sage came in and told the Tang monk the whole story. Tripitaka shed tears: "Disciple, what are we to do?" The Great Sage said: "I have come to call brother Sha to go with me. At the hermitage, while Old Sun keeps that fellow busy fighting, Sha Monk will slip in, get the water, and come back to save you." Tripitaka said: "If both of you who are well go off, who will wait on us two who are sick?" The old woman, standing by, said: "Honored arhat, set your mind at rest. We do not need your disciples; my household will look after you ourselves. When you came this morning, we truly felt fond of you. But it was only when we saw this bodhisattva riding in on clouds and mist that we knew you were arhats and bodhisattvas. My house will never dare harm you again."

Pilgrim gave a snort: "You women—dare to harm anyone?" The old woman laughed: "Oh sir! It is your good luck that brought you to my house! Had you come to a second house, you would not have gone away whole." Bajie moaned: "Not whole—what does that mean?" The old woman said: "Our family of four or five are all up in years; we have given up the business of love, and that is why we would not harm you. But at another house, old and young together, the young ones would never let you pass. They would want to lie with you; and if you refused, they would take your lives and cut the flesh from your bodies to make sachets." Bajie said: "In that case I am quite safe. They are all sweet-smelling and would make fine sachets. I am a rank pig—cut my flesh and it would still stink. So no harm can come to me." Pilgrim laughed: "Save your wisecracks, and save your strength for the birth." The old woman said: "No more delay. Go beg the water quickly." Pilgrim said: "Have you a well bucket? Lend us one." The old woman went to the back, brought out a bucket, coiled a rope around it, and handed it to Sha Monk. Sha Monk said: "Let us take two ropes, in case the well is deep."

Sha Monk took the bucket and rope, followed the Great Sage out of the farmhouse, and off they flew on the clouds. In less than half a watch they were at the borders of Woman-Solving Mountain. They pressed down the clouds and came to the hermitage. The Great Sage told Sha Monk: "Take the bucket and rope and hide to one side. Wait till Old Sun shows himself and demands battle. When the two of us are in the thick of it, slip in, get the water, and run." Sha Monk obeyed to the letter.

The Great Sage Sun drew the iron staff, came to the door, and shouted: "Open up! Open up!" The gatekeeper saw him and hurried inside to report: "Master, Sun Wukong has come again." The master was furious: "That brazen monkey is too much! I had heard he had some skill, and today I truly know it—that staff of his is hard to meet." The Taoist said: "Master, his skill may be high, but yours is no less. You are well matched." The master said: "Those two earlier rounds, he won." The Taoist said: "He may have won those two, but that was only one burst of fierceness. Both times after, when he went to draw water, you hooked him down. Are you not his equal? He left helpless before, and now he is back. It must be that Tripitaka's pregnancy is ripe and he is heavy with it, and the blaming has been hard—so he has come because he must. His heart will not be set on fighting you. My master is sure to win, without a doubt."

Hearing this, the True Immortal was delighted, spring in his heart, smiling and full of fighting spirit. He leveled the as-you-will hook, walked out the door, and shouted: "Brazen ape! What have you come for this time?" The Great Sage said: "I have come only for water." The True Immortal said: "The spring water is my family's well. King or prime minister must come with gifts, sheep, and wine to beg—and get only a little. And you are my enemy. How dare you come empty-handed for it?" The Great Sage said: "Truly you will not give it?" The True Immortal said: "Not giving, not giving." The Great Sage cursed: "Brazen fiend! If you will give no water, take the staff!" He dropped into a stance, lunged right into his arms, and without another word struck straight at his head. The True Immortal dodged aside and hurriedly met him with the hook. This fight beat the last. A fine battle:

The gold-banded staff, the as-you-will hook: the two, roused to fury, each nursing a grudge.Sand flies and stones roll, and heaven and earth grow dark; dust is kicked and thrown, and sun and moon grow sad.The Great Sage comes for water to save his master; the monster-immortal, for his nephew's sake, will grant no request.Both sides put out all their strength, in one place staking all on the finish.Gritting teeth they fight for the win, gnashing teeth to settle hard against soft.Each adds a new move and shakes out new fight; they spew cloud and belch mist till ghosts and gods grow sad.Thud and clang sound hook on staff; the war cries and roars shake the hills.The mad wind rolls on, driving the forest trees; the air of slaughter drifts past the Dipper and the Ox.The more the Great Sage fights, the more he enjoys it; the longer the True Immortal fights, the tighter he coils.With set heart and set mind they battle on: until life or death is settled, neither will stop.

The two of them traded blows outside the hermitage gate, leaping and dancing, fighting down to the foot of the slope, locked together bitterly—and no more of that.

Sha Monk, bucket in hand, pushed in the door. The Taoist barred him at the well: "Who are you, daring to come for water?" Sha Monk set down the bucket, took out his demon-taming precious staff, and without a word struck straight at his head. The Taoist could not dodge; his left arm was broken, and he fell to the ground fighting for his life. Sha Monk cursed: "I would beat this beast of yours to death, but you are a human being, so I pity you. Be off, and let me draw the water." The Taoist, crying to heaven and earth, crawled off behind. Sha Monk then dipped the bucket and drew a full bucket of water from the well, walked out the hermitage gate, rose into the clouds and mist, and shouted to Pilgrim: "Big brother, I have the water. Spare him, spare him."

Hearing this, the Great Sage braced his iron staff against the hook and said: "I meant to wipe you out to the last man, but you have broken no law; and then there is the face of your elder brother the Bull Demon King. Before, I was hooked twice and got no water. This time I used the trick of luring the tiger from the mountain: I drew you out to fight, while my brother monk went in and got the water. If Old Sun cared to show his real skill at beating you, never mind one As-You-Will Immortal—I would beat to death however many more of you there were. Truly, killing is not as good as letting live: I will spare you and let you live out a few years. From now on, if anyone comes for water, you must not squeeze them." The monster-immortal, knowing neither gratitude nor sense, made a feint and came again to hook his foot. The Great Sage dodged the hook, rushed up, and shouted: "Do not run!" The monster-immortal, caught off guard, was knocked sprawling and could not get up. The Great Sage snatched the as-you-will hook away and snapped it in two; then, gripping the halves, he snapped them again into four pieces and threw them on the ground: "Brazen beast! Any more of your impudence?" The monster-immortal, trembling all over, swallowed the disgrace and said nothing. The Great Sage, chuckling, rose on his cloud. There is a poem to prove it. The poem says:

True lead, to be smelted, needs true water; with true water blended, the true mercury dries.True mercury and true lead, without the mother's breath, make the spirit cinnabar and spirit drug, the elixir of the immortals.The infant joined in vain took only the shape of a fetus; the Earth Mother did her work and found it no trouble.Throw down the side gates and hold to the true teaching; the lord of the heart, well pleased, comes back wearing a smile.

The Great Sage sped on his auspicious light and caught up with Sha Monk. With the true water in hand, happy and pleased, they returned to where they had started, pressed down the clouds, and came to the farmhouse. Zhu Bajie was leaning against the doorpost, belly out, moaning. Pilgrim crept up and said quietly: "Idiot, when did you take over the room?" The Idiot panicked: "Brother, do not mock me. Did you get any water?" Pilgrim meant to tease him more, but Sha Monk came up behind, laughing: "The water is here, the water is here." Tripitaka raised himself, bearing the pain: "Disciples, you have worn yourselves out for me." The old woman and her family were delighted too; they all came out and bowed: "Bodhisattva, this is a rare thing, a rare thing." She quickly took a flowered porcelain cup, dipped half a cup, and handed it to Tripitaka: "Reverend master, sip it slowly. One mouthful is enough to dissolve the child." Bajie said: "Never mind the cup—give me the bucket and let me drink it all." The old woman said: "My lord, you would frighten me to death! If you drank a bucket of that water, it would likely melt your very guts." That scared the Idiot into behaving, and he too drank only half a cup.

Within the time of a meal, both of them had griping pains in their bellies, with three or five waves of rumbling in their guts. After the rumbling, the Idiot could hold no more, and both motions came at once. The Tang monk too could hold no more and wanted to go somewhere private. Pilgrim said: "Master, do not go out into the open wind, I beg you. If a gust catches you, it will turn into a sickness after childbirth." The old woman brought two clean pails at once and let them use them. In a moment each had gone several times, and then the pain stopped, the swelling slowly went down, and the lumps of flesh and blood dissolved. The old woman's household also boiled some white rice porridge to build them up. Bajie said: "Grandmother, my body is solid; I need no building up. Boil me some hot water for a bath, and then I will enjoy the porridge." Sha Monk said: "Second brother, no bath for you. A woman in childbed who touches water falls ill from it." Bajie said: "I have not had a full birth—only a miscarriage at worst. What is there to fear? A wash will clean me up." So the old woman really did heat some water, and the two of them washed their hands and feet clean. The Tang monk managed two cups of porridge water; Bajie ate a dozen bowls or more and still asked for more. Pilgrim laughed: "Clumsy fool, eat less, or you will have a sack belly, and a fine figure that will be." Bajie said: "No matter, no matter. I am not a sow. What is there to fear?" And the household really did go off to get a meal ready.

The old woman said to the Tang monk: "Reverend master, give me what is left of the water." Pilgrim said: "Idiot, no more water?" Bajie said: "My belly does not ache any more; the seed must have washed away. I am clean and easy—what would I do with more water?" Pilgrim said: "Since both of you are well, give the rest to the house." The old woman thanked Pilgrim, put the remaining water in an earthenware jar, and buried it in the ground behind the house. She said to her family, old and young: "That jar of water is enough for my burial money." All of them, old and young, were overjoyed. They set out a meatless meal, laid the table and stools, the Tang monk and his disciples ate, and then they rested quietly through the night.

At daybreak the master and disciples thanked the old woman's household and left the farmhouse. Tripitaka Tang climbed into the saddle; Sha Monk carried the bags; the Great Sage Sun led the way in front; Zhu Bajie gathered up the reins. And here is the verse:

The sin of the mouth washed away, the body clean;the mortal fetus dissolved, the frame at ease.

But what business still waited for them at the border of the kingdom? Listen to the next chapter to find out.