Chapter 71

The Pilgrim Borrows a False Name and Subdues the Hou Monster; Guanyin Shows Her True Form and Quells the Demon King

Form has been emptiness since the oldest of days, and when emptiness is spoken of, it is form that is meant. If a man can awaken wholly to the chan of form and emptiness, what need has he to smelt and refine cinnabar sand?Cultivate virtue in its fullness and never slacken; labor bitterly, steeping yourself in the work. When your deeds at last are full, you will face the court of Heaven, your immortal face unchanging, fixed forever.

The story tells how Sai Tai Sui shut fast the front and back gates and searched for the Pilgrim, clamoring until dusk, yet no trace of him could be found. He took his seat in the Skin-Flaying Pavilion, mustered his host of demons, and issued his commands: at every gate they were to ring bells and shout the watches, beat drums and knock the clappers; every demon strung his bow and drew his blade, keeping watch through the night.

Now the Great Sage Sun had changed himself into a dull-witted fly and stuck himself fast beside the gate. Seeing the guard so tight out front, he shook out his wings and flew to the door of the inner palace to look: there was Lady Golden Sage, bent over the imperial desk, tears dropping clear, her grief sounding low and faint. The Pilgrim flew in through the door and settled lightly on her loosened chignon of cloud-black hair, to hear what she wept over. In a little while the lady suddenly broke into speech: “My lord, you and I:

In a former life I burned a headless incense stick, and in this life I met a brazen demon king.A phoenix pair torn apart three years—on what day shall we meet? Mandarin ducks sundered in two places, breeding sorrow in each.An elder was sent who at last carried word, and the good match was startled into ruin—one life lost.Only because the golden bells are hard to read, and harder still to free, does longing burn wilder than before.”

At these words the Pilgrim moved around behind her ear and called softly: “Lady of the Sage Palace, do not be afraid. I am still the holy monk, Elder Sun, whom your country sent, and no life has been lost. Only because my own temper is hasty did I go near your dressing table and steal the golden bells. While you were drinking with the demon king, I slipped out alone past the front pavilion, and, unable to bear it, opened them for a look. Without meaning to I tugged the cotton wadding that stops their mouths; the bells rang once, and smoke, fire, and yellow sand burst out. I lost my head, dropped the bells, and showed my true form. I fought bitterly with my iron staff but could not break out, and fearing to fall into their cruel hands, I changed into a little fly and stuck myself on the door hinge, hiding there until now. The demon king is stricter than ever and will not open the gates. So once more treat him with the courtesy of husband and wife: coax him inside to sleep, and I can slip free, go about my work, and find some other way to save you.”

No sooner had the lady heard this than she trembled till her hair seemed plucked by a spirit; weak with dread, her heart pounded like a pestle in a mortar. Brimming with tears she said, “Are you a man now, or a ghost?” The Pilgrim said, “I am not a man, and I am not a ghost; I have changed into a little fly and am here. Do not be afraid—hurry and invite that demon king.” The lady could not believe it; tear after tear falling, she whispered low, “Do not mock me in a dream.” The Pilgrim said, “How would I dare haunt your dreams? If you will not believe me, open your hand and let me jump down where you can see.” The lady truly did open her left hand, and the Pilgrim flew gently down and lighted in the middle of her jade palm. It was just like:

A black bean perched on the heart of a lotus bud; a roving bee alighted on the peony.A grape fallen into the cup of a snowball bloom; a thick black fleck beside the lily’s branch.

Lady Golden Sage held her jade palm high and cried, “Holy monk!” The Pilgrim answered in a faint whine, “I am the holy monk, changed into this.” Only then did the lady believe. Softly she asked, “When I go to invite the demon king, how will you manage your affair?” The Pilgrim said, “The ancients said: ‘Wine alone can finish off a whole life.’ And they said too: ‘Nothing breaks up ten thousand troubles better than wine.’ Wine has a thousand uses, so make drinking your best device. Call one of your personal maids in here and point her out to me. I will take her shape, wait on you at your side, and so be well placed to act.”

The lady did as he said and called, “Where is Chun Jiao?” From behind the screen came out a jade-faced fox, who knelt and said, “What are your orders, lady, in calling Chun Jiao?” The lady said, “Go tell them to light the gauze lamps, burn camphor and musk, and support me to the front court to invite the king to his rest.” Chun Jiao went to the front and called out seven or eight demon deer and fox demons, who took up two pairs of lanterns and a pair of hanging censers and lined up left and right. As the lady rose and folded her hands, the Great Sage had already flown. Good Pilgrim! He spread his wings, flew straight to the head of the jade-faced fox, plucked out one hair, blew on it a breath of immortal air, and cried, “Change!” It became a drowsiness bug, which he set gently on her face. Now when a drowsiness bug gets on a person’s face it crawls toward the nostrils, and once it crawls inside, sleep comes at once. And sure enough Chun Jiao began to feel drowsy; she could not keep her feet, swayed on her stem and nodded, then hurried to find her usual sleeping place, threw herself down, and slept away snoring. The Pilgrim hopped down, shook himself once, and changed into Chun Jiao’s very likeness, going around the screen to stand in line with the rest—no more of that.

Now as Lady Golden Sage walked on ahead, a small demon saw her and at once reported to Sai Tai Sui: “Your Majesty, the lady is coming.” The demon king hurried out beyond the Skin-Flaying Pavilion to meet her. The lady said, “My lord, the smoke and fire are out, the thief has vanished without a trace, and in the depth of night I have come specially to ask you to go to your rest.” The demon was delighted through and through: “Take care of yourself, lady. That thief just now was Sun Wukong. He destroyed my vanguard, beat my little soldiers to death, changed his shape to sneak in here, and made fools of us. We searched so closely, and still not a shadow of him—so my heart is ill at ease.” The lady said, “The wretch must have escaped. Set your mind at rest, my lord, and be easy; go to your sleep.” The demon, seeing the lady standing in attendance and begging him so respectfully, did not dare refuse outright; he could only order his demon horde, every one of them, to watch fire and candles carefully and guard against thieves, and then he went straight with the lady to the inner palace. The Pilgrim, in his false shape of Chun Jiao, was led in among the two rows of waiting maids.

The lady called, “Set out wine for the king, to ease his labors.” The demon king laughed: “Just so, just so! Bring the wine quickly, and I will drink with the lady to press down the fright.” False Chun Jiao and the other monsters laid out the fruit, arranged some meats, and set the tables and chairs in order. The lady raised her cup, the demon king offered one in return, and the two of them exchanged cups. False Chun Jiao stood by, wine pot in hand: “Tonight the king and lady first cross cups; pray drink each cup dry, and pass a double-joy cup between you.” And truly they filled again and drank dry once more. “Chun Jiao” said further: “It is a happy meeting of king and lady. Let those of the maids who can sing give us a song, and those who can dance, dance!” Before she had finished speaking, a tide of song rose, tuned all to one measure—some sang, and some danced. The two of them drank a great deal more, until the lady called a stop to the singing and dancing. The maids withdrew in their ranks and lined up outside the screen, and only false Chun Jiao stayed, pot in hand, pouring above and below. The lady and the demon king talked of nothing but the fond words of husband and wife. See how the lady, with all her cloud-moods and rain-desires, coaxed the demon king until his bones went soft and his sinews slack. Only he had no such fortune, and never got to lay a hand on her. Poor wretch! It was truly a cat biting at a pig’s bladder—a joy with nothing in it.

After they had talked a while and laughed a while, the lady asked, “My lord, were the treasures hurt?” The demon king said, “These treasures were cast and wrought before the world began—how could they be hurt? Only the thief tugged open the cotton at their mouths, and the leopard-skin bundle got burned.” The lady said, “How will you keep them now?” The demon king said, “No keeping needed; I carry them at my waist.” At these words false Chun Jiao plucked out a fistful of hairs, chewed them to bits, crept softly close to the demon king, set the hairs on his body, blew three breaths of immortal air, and silently cried, “Change!” The hairs became three kinds of vicious things—lice, fleas, and bedbugs—which swarmed onto the demon king’s body and bit at his skin. He itched and burned past bearing, thrust a hand into his breast to grope and scratch, and picked out several lice with his fingers, holding them up to the lamp to look. The lady saw and thought to herself, hiding a smile: “My lord, I suppose your under-robe is dirty—so long unwashed that such things have bred.” The demon king said, abashed, “I have never bred such things; of all nights, tonight I am shamed.” The lady laughed: “Why shamed, my lord? The common saying goes: ‘Even an emperor’s body carries three imperial lice.’ Take off your robes and let me pick them for you.” The demon king truly did loosen his belt and strip.

False Chun Jiao stood by, eyes fixed on the demon king’s clothes: layer upon layer fleas went leaping, garment after garment great bedbugs lay in ranks; lice, mother and young, thick past telling, like ants swarming from a broken nest. Before she knew it the third layer was peeled back to bare skin, and on the golden bells the vermin swarmed beyond counting. False Chun Jiao said, “My lord, hand me the bells, and I will pick them for you too.” The demon king—half in shame, half in haste, and quite unable to tell true from false—handed the three bells to false Chun Jiao. She took them in her hand and made a show of working a long while; then, seeing the demon king with head bent, shaking out the clothes, she hid the golden bells away, plucked one hair, changed it into three bells exactly alike, and held them up to the lamp, turning them over. Then she gave her own body a twist and a shake, gathered the lice, bedbugs, and fleas back onto herself, and handed the false golden bells to the monster. He took them in his hands, all the more dazed and helpless, quite unable to tell true from false, and holding the bells out on both palms gave them to the lady: “This time keep them well. Be careful, be very careful—not like last time.” The lady took them, gently lifted the lid of her clothes chest, stored the false bells away, and locked them with a gold lock. Then she drank a few more cups with the demon king and told the maids: “Wipe the bed clean and spread the brocade quilt; the king and I will sleep together.” The demon king assented again and again: “Not for me, not for me—I dare not keep such company. Let me take a palace girl to sleep in the west palace; you, lady, settle yourself as you please.” And so each went off to bed—no more of that.

Now false Chun Jiao, her work done, carried the treasure at her waist, showed her true shape, shook her body once to call back the drowsiness bug, and walked straight on. There was a clanging of watchboards and bells: the third watch beaten fast. Good Pilgrim! He pinched the spell-sign, murmured his true words, and worked the art of invisibility, going straight to the gate. There the bolt and lock were fast tight, so he brought out the gold-banded staff, pointed it at the gate, and worked his art of unlocking; the gate swung softly open. He hurried out, planted his feet, and called in a hard, loud voice: “Sai Tai Sui! Give me back my Lady Golden Sage!” Two or three times he shouted, till the demons great and small were startled and hurried to look: the front gate stood open. At once they brought lamps and hunted for the lock and shut the gate again. A few ran inside to report: “Your Majesty, someone outside the great gate is calling out your sacred title and demanding Lady Golden Sage.” The maids inside came out through the palace door and passed the word softly: “Do not shout; the king has only just gone to sleep.” The Pilgrim shouted again before the gate, and the small demons dared not disturb him. So it went three or four times, and none dared carry the report. The Great Sage outside kept up his hue and cry until daybreak. Then he could bear it no longer: swinging his iron staff, he marched up and battered at the gate. The demons great and small panicked—some braced the gate, some ran to carry word. The demon king, just waking from his sleep, heard nothing but a clatter and a din; he rose, dressed, came out beyond the bed curtains, and asked, “What is all the shouting?” The maids knelt down and said, “Master, some man or other has cursed at the gate outside half the night, and now he is battering the door.”

The demon king walked out through the palace door and saw the little messenger demons kowtowing in a fluster: “Someone outside is cursing and demanding Lady Golden Sage; if anyone says half a word of ‘no,’ he pours out a thousand twisted sayings, ugly to hear. And seeing daybreak come without Your Majesty coming out, he has been driven to batter the gate.” The demon said, “Do not open it yet. Go and ask him where he comes from—his surname and his name—and come back and report quickly.” The small demon hurried out and asked through the gate, “Who is battering the gate?” The Pilgrim said, “I am the honored grandfather the court of Zhuzi has invited, come to take Lady Golden Sage home to her country.” The small demon heard and reported these very words. The demon went back to the inner palace to question the lady about the matter. Now the lady had just risen and not yet combed or washed, when the maid came to report: “The king is here.” She hurriedly straightened her dress, her black-cloud hair loosely bound, and came out of the palace to meet him. She had barely sat down, before she could ask anything, when another small demon came to report: “That grandfather outside has already broken down the gate.” The demon laughed: “Lady, how many generals and captains has your court?” The lady said, “At court there are the men and horses of forty-eight guards, a thousand good generals; and the marshals and commanders-in-chief on every frontier are past counting.” The demon king said, “Is there any of them surnamed Wai?” The lady said, “I live in the palace; I know only the service within, helping my lord from morning to night and teaching the concubines. Of affairs beyond the borders I know nothing—how should I remember names?” The demon king said, “This fellow calls himself the wai gong, the ‘outside grandfather.’ I have gone through the Hundred Family Surnames: there is no clan Wai in all of it. You, lady, are clever by nature, born of noble stock, and living in the imperial palace you must have read many books. Can you remember which book has this surname?” The lady said, “Only the Thousand Character Text has the line ‘Outside—wai—one receives the tutor’s teaching.’ I suppose that must be it.”

The demon king cried out, delighted: “That is it, that is it!” He rose at once, took leave of the lady, went up to the Skin-Flaying Pavilion, buckled himself in good order, picked out his demon soldiers, opened the gate, and marched straight out, a flowery halberd-axe in his hand, calling in a hard, loud voice: “Which one is the grandfather come from Zhuzi?” The Pilgrim gripped the gold-banded staff in his right hand and pointed with his left: “What would you have of me, good nephew?” At the sight the demon king’s heart boiled with rage: “You wretch—

Your features are a monkey’s; your snout, a baboon’s.Seven parts ghost to the bone—yet bold enough to bully men!”

The Pilgrim laughed: “You brazen monster, liar to your superiors and traitor to your king—so you are blind! Think: five hundred years ago, when I wrought havoc in the Heavenly Palace, the divine generals of the Nine Heavens, at the sight of me, dared not open their mouths without an ‘Old’ in the greeting. If I let you call me grandfather, where is the loss to you?” The demon king roared: “Speak quickly—your surname and your name, and what arts of war you have, that you dare run rampant on my ground!” The Pilgrim said: “If you had not asked my name, well and good; but if I must say it out, I fear you will have nowhere left to stand. Come up here. Plant your feet, and listen while I tell you:

The parents who begot me were heaven and earth; the essence of sun and moon congealed my sacred embryo.The immortal stone that cradled me kept no count of years; a numinous root was gestating there—what a marvel!In those days my birth blessed the three yang with peace; today, returned to the true, all meetings fall in harmony.Once I gathered the demon multitudes and was hailed their marshal chief; I could quell every brood of monsters, who bowed before the Cinnabar Cliff.The Jade Emperor sent down an edict by decree; the Gold Star of Venus came bearing the summons.I was asked to ascend to Heaven and take up an office; they titled me Keeper of the Heavenly Horses, and my heart was not glad.My first intent was revolt, plotting in my mountain cave; with boldness I raised my host and threw the palace stairs into uproar.Heavenly King Li, the Pagoda Bearer, and his prince met me in one clash of arms, and all their ranks went down in disgrace.The Gold Star of Venus memorialized the Emperor of the Dark Vault again, and down came a second edict of amnesty.I was titled the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, True and Perfect—at last a name to call me pillar-and-beam timber.Then, thrown into disorder, the Banquet of the Peaches; emboldened by wine I stole the elixir and drew calamity down.The Supreme Lord Lao memorialized the throne in person; the Queen Mother of the West bowed low at the Terrace of Jasper.They knew full well it was I who defied the king’s law, and mustered the soldiers of heaven at once, issuing the tokens of fire.A hundred thousand baleful stars and fell lights; shields and spears, swords and halberds in thick array.A net of heaven and a web of earth spread over every hill; blades raised together for the great muster on the field.We fought one vicious battle, neither side prevailing; Guanyin spoke up and recommended Erlang.The two houses met in war to settle which stood higher; he had the brothers of Mei Shan at his side.Each matched his prowess, each his transformations; at the gate of heaven the Three Sages pushed the clouds apart.The Lord Lao flung down his diamond snare; the gods seized me and brought me to the golden stairs.There was no need to debate or make me sign a confession: my crime drew the sentence of the slicing death.Axes hacking, hammers pounding could not hurt my life; blades swinging, swords chopping—how should they wound me?Fire burning, thunder striking—just the same, no use; no art could break the long-lived embryo.I was escorted to the Court of Great Clarity, the Doushuai cloister, and consigned wholesale to the smelting of the furnace.When the appointed days were full they opened the tripod; I leaped out from the middle of it.My hand held high this as-you-will staff; I turned a somersault and battered up the Jade Dragon Terrace.Every star and every constellation went hiding; I rioted through the Heavenly Palace, rampaging as I pleased.The inspecting numinal official hurried to beg the Buddha; Shakyamuni and I then matched our gifts.Within his palm I turned my somersaults, roved the whole vault of heaven, went and came again.The Buddha used a seer’s art of guile and trickery; he pressed me down at the sky’s far rim.Five hundred years and more have run since then; freed at last, this wretched body plays its tricks again.Charged to guard the Tang monk on the road to the Western lands: Wukong the Pilgrim, plain for all to see.On the western road I put the demons down—which demon or devil does not tremble at the name!”

When the demon king heard him say “Wukong the Pilgrim,” he said: “So you are that rogue who wrought havoc in the Heavenly Palace. Since you broke free to guard the Tang monk on his westward road, you might have gone your own way. Why weave yourself into other men’s affairs, play bondsman to that Zhuzi kingdom, and come here hunting your death?” The Pilgrim roared: “You thieving brazen monster! What witless talk. I received the courtesy of Zhuzi’s invitation, and the grace of their honors and hospitality; your Old Sun stands a thousand times higher than any throne. They revere me like father and mother, serve me like gods. And you say the word ‘bondsman’? You lying, king-betraying monster—stand still, and taste your grandfather’s staff!” The demon king’s hands went numb with fright; he twisted aside to dodge and met him face to face with his flowery axe. It was a fine battle! Look:

The gold-banded as-you-will staff; the wind-edged flowery axe.This one ground his teeth in vicious fury; that one set his jaw and showed his might.This one the Great Sage Equal to Heaven come down to the mortal world; that one a demon king sowing mischief, come down to the low earth.The two of them spewed cloud and breathed fog that lit up the heavenly palace; truly they hurled stones and raised sand that shrouded the mansions of the Dipper.Back and forth, a hundred arts and more; over and over, gold light spitting.Each spent his whole repertoire; each staked his magic on the throw.This one meant to take the lady back to the imperial capital; that one was pleased to keep his empress in his mountain fold.All this battle rose from nothing—both flinging away life, forgetful of death, for a country’s king.

The two of them fought fifty rounds with no victor. The demon king, seeing the Pilgrim’s arts too high, judged he could not win. He caught the iron staff on his axe and said: “Sun the Pilgrim, hold a moment. I have had no morning meal today; let me go in and eat, and then come out and settle high and low with you.” The Pilgrim knew very well he wanted his bells. He put up the iron staff: “A good man does not chase a winded rabbit. Go on, go on—eat your fill, and come back to collect your death.”

The demon hurried around and burst inside, saying to the lady: “Quick—bring me the treasure!” The lady said, “What do you want the treasure for?” The demon king said, “The one who called me to battle this morning is a disciple of the sutra-seeking monk, one Sun Wukong the Pilgrim, falsely calling himself grandfather. I fought him till this hour with no winner. Let me take the treasure out, loose a little smoke and fire, and burn that monkey’s head.” When the lady heard this her heart lurched: not to bring out the bells might rouse his suspicion; to bring them out might cost the Pilgrim Sun his life. While she still wavered the demon king pressed her: “Quick—bring them out.” Helpless, the lady could only open the lock with her key and hand the three bells to the demon king. He took them and walked straight out of the cave. The lady sat in the palace, tears falling like rain, wondering whether the Pilgrim could escape with his life—and neither of the two knew the bells were false.

Out the gate, the demon took the high wind and called: “Sun the Pilgrim, do not run! Watch me shake my bells!” The Pilgrim laughed: “You have bells—do I have none? You can shake—can I not shake?” The demon king said, “What bells do you have? Bring them out and let me see.” The Pilgrim pinched the iron staff into an embroidery needle and hid it in his ear, then untied three true treasures from his waist and said to the demon king: “Are these not my purple-gold bells?” The demon king saw and his heart jumped: “Strange past telling! How do his bells and mine come out exactly alike? Even cast from one mold, the polishing would never match—there would be an extra scar here, a missing stem there. How can they not miss by a hair?” He asked again: “Where did those bells of yours come from?” The Pilgrim said: “Good nephew, where did yours come from?” The demon king, honest creature, answered: “My bells are—

The immortal lord of Great Clarity, whose Way-source runs deep, long smelted this gold within the Eight Trigrams furnace.They were wrought into bells and prized beyond all treasure; the Lord Lao left them behind, and they endure to this day.

The Pilgrim laughed: “Old Sun’s bells came from that very same time.” The demon king said, “From what origin?” The Pilgrim said, “My bells are—

The Ancestor of the Way brewed his elixir in the Doushuai Palace; golden bells were kneaded and smelted in that furnace.Two threes are six—a treasure that turns in an endless ring: mine is the hen, and yours the cock.”

The demon king said: “The bells are the treasure of the golden elixir, not birds of the air or beasts of the field—how can you tell hen from cock? Whatever shakes out its wonders, that is the good one.” The Pilgrim said: “Words on the lips prove nothing; do it and be seen. Go first—you shake.”

The demon king truly did shake the first bell three shakes: no fire came out. He shook the second three shakes: no smoke came out. The third he shook three shakes, and no sand came out either. The demon king’s hands went weak with fright: “Strange past telling! The ways of the world have changed—these bells must have learned to fear their wives: the cock has seen the hen, so nothing will come out.” The Pilgrim said: “Good nephew, hold your hand, and watch me shake them for you.” Good monkey! He gripped all three bells in one fist and shook them together. Look: red fire, blue smoke, and yellow sand came rolling out together, gouting and blazing, burning trees and firing the mountains. The Great Sage mouthed a spell besides, cried toward the wind quarter of the southeast, “Wind, come!”—and truly the wind drove the fire’s fury and the fire rode the wind’s might: red flame and black darkness, smoke and fire filling the sky, yellow sand covering the earth. Sai Tai Sui’s soul scattered and his wits fled; there was no road left for him to run—in the midst of that fire, how should he save his life?

From mid-air came a stern voice crying: “Sun Wukong—I come!” The Pilgrim looked up quickly: it was the Bodhisattva Guanyin, left hand bearing the pure vase, right hand holding the willow branch, sprinkling sweet dew to quench the fire. The Pilgrim, flustered, thrust the bells into his waist, pressed his palms together, and bowed low to the ground. The Bodhisattva brushed down drops of sweet dew with the willow twig; in an instant smoke and fire were gone, and the yellow sand vanished without trace. The Pilgrim knocked his head: “I did not know your great mercy had come down into the world, and failed to stand aside. May I ask where the Bodhisattva was bound?” The Bodhisattva said: “I have come specially to take this demon.” The Pilgrim said: “What is this monster’s history, that it should trouble your golden body to descend and take him?” The Bodhisattva said: “He is the golden-haired hou I ride. Because the herd-boy dozed at his watch and the beast was left unguarded, this wicked creature gnawed through his iron chain and ran; he came to work off the king of Zhuzi’s calamity.” At this the Pilgrim leaned forward quickly: “Bodhisattva, you have it backwards! Here he has mocked his king and duped his queen, rotted decency and wounded morals, and heaped disaster on that king—and you call it working off his calamity. How so?” The Bodhisattva said: “You do not know. In the days when the former king of Zhuzi reigned, the present king was still heir apparent in the Eastern Palace, not yet enthroned. As a boy he was mad for hawking and the hunt. Once he led out his men and horses, loosed falcon and hound, and came to the slope called Where the Phoenix Falls. The Bodhisattva Peacock, Great Luminous King, Mother of Buddhas of the West, had there borne two chicks, male and female, resting their wings below the slope. Where the king drew his bow he wounded the male peacock, and the female flew west with the arrow still in her. After the Buddha-Mother had made her act of penance, she ordained that his phoenix pairing be broken for three years and his body dogged by a wasting sickness. At that time I was riding this hou and heard those very words. Who knew the wicked beast would take them to heart: so he came to trick away the empress and work off the king’s calamity. Now the three years are full and the debt of wrong is paid; happily you came to cure the king’s affliction, and I have come specially to take the demon back.” The Pilgrim said: “Bodhisattva, be the story what it may, he has defiled an empress, ruined decency and wounded morals, broken the bonds of kin and confounded law—he has earned death. Now that your Holiness has come in person, pardon his death if you must, but you cannot pardon his living punishment. Let me give him twenty blows of the staff, and then take him away with you.” The Bodhisattva said: “Wukong, since you know I have come down into the world, you should respect my plea and pardon him altogether; it may count toward your merit for quelling the demon. If that staff so much as touches him, he is a dead thing.” The Pilgrim dared not cross her, and could only bow: “Bodhisattva, take him back to the sea; but never again let him come down among men on his own—harm enough he has done.”

Then the Bodhisattva cried out once: “Wicked beast! How long will you wait before returning to your true form?” The monster rolled over, showed his original shape, and shook out his golden fur, and the Bodhisattva mounted him. She looked under his neck: the three golden bells were gone. “Wukong, give me back my bells.” The Pilgrim said: “Old Sun knows nothing of them.” The Bodhisattva cried: “You thieving monkey! Had you not stolen those bells, not one Wukong—no, not ten—would have dared come near him. Hand them over, quickly.” The Pilgrim laughed: “Truly, I never saw them.” The Bodhisattva said: “So you never saw them? Then let me recite the Tight-Fillet Spell.” At that the Pilgrim panicked and cried only: “Do not recite it, do not recite it! Here are the bells, here!” And it is justly said: Who shall loose the golden bell from the hou’s neck? The one who would loose it must ask the one who tied it. The Bodhisattva hung the bells beneath the hou’s neck and rose up to her high seat. Look how the lotus flowers beneath its four hooves sprang up in flame, and the gold-woven hair over its whole body bristled dark and deep. The Great Compassionate One returned to the South Sea—no more of that.

Now the Great Sage Sun straightened his robes, swung his iron staff, and battered his way into Xiezhi Cave, beating the demon horde, great and small, to death to the last one, cleansing it clean. Then he went into the palace and asked Lady Golden Sage to return to her country. The lady bowed her head to the ground without end. The Pilgrim told her the whole tale—how the Bodhisattva quelled the demon, and why the phoenix pair had been parted. He gathered some soft grass and wove a dragon of it: “Mount up, lady; shut your eyes and do not be afraid. I will carry you back to court to see your lord.” The lady did exactly as she was told; the Pilgrim raised his magic, and there was nothing in her ears but the sound of wind.

In half a watch he brought her into the city and set the cloud down, calling, “Open your eyes, lady.” The queen opened her eyes, saw the phoenix tower and dragon palace, and her heart leapt for joy. She left the grass dragon and climbed the great hall at the Pilgrim’s side. The king saw her, hurried down from the dragon bed, and came to take the lady’s jade hand, meaning to pour out his longing—then suddenly he fell to the floor, crying only, “My hand hurts! My hand hurts!” Zhu Bajie burst out laughing: “There’s a face for you! No luck to bear such happiness—one touch and you are stung to death.” The Pilgrim said: “Idiot! Would you dare take her hand?” Bajie said, “What would happen if I did?” The Pilgrim said: “The lady’s body grew poisoned thorns, and there is a stinging venom in her hand. In all her three years on Mount Qilin with Sai Tai Sui, that demon never once touched her. Touch her body and your body aches; touch her hand and your hand aches.” The officers heard and said: “What can be done about this?” Outside, the whole court was anxious and unsettled; within, the concubines trembled. The consorts of the Jade Sage and Silver Sage palaces came and raised the king to his feet.

All were still in this flurry when suddenly a voice called from mid-air: “Great Sage—I come!” The Pilgrim raised his head and looked: it was—

Solemnly a crane’s cry cleaved the sky; drifting light, it came straight to the court.Ring upon ring of auspicious radiance; a soft haze of blessed air, fluttering, gliding.A palm-bark cloak over its body, trailing cloud and smoke; on its feet rush sandals, rarely seen.In hand a fly whisk of dragon’s whisker; a silk cord wound about its waist.In heaven and on earth, everywhere it ties the knots of human fate; over the wide earth it roams at ease, traveling all.This was a Purple Cloud immortal of the Daluo Heaven, come down today to lift the enchantment.

The Pilgrim stepped forward to meet him: “Master Zhang Ziyang, where are you bound?” The True Immortal Ziyang came straight to the foot of the hall and bowed with folded hands: “Great Sage, this humble immortal Zhang Boduan salutes you.” The Pilgrim returned the courtesy: “From where do you come?” The immortal said: “Three years ago this humble immortal attended a Buddhist assembly, and passing this way I saw that the king of Zhuzi was fated to have his phoenix pairing broken. I feared the demon would defile the empress, injure the bonds of humankind, and leave her afterward unable to be joined to the king again; so I changed an old palm-bark cloak into a gown of new sunset cloud, aglow with five colors, and presented it to the demon king, so the empress would wear it as her wedding dress. The moment it touched her body it grew a coat of poisoned thorns. The thorns were the palm-bark cloak. Now, hearing the Great Sage has succeeded, I have come specially to lift the enchantment.” The Pilgrim said: “In that case, having troubled you to come so far—quickly, undo it.” The immortal stepped forward, pointed a finger at the lady, and the palm-bark cloak came away. The lady’s body was as it had always been. The immortal shook the cloak and threw it over his own shoulders, saying to the Pilgrim: “Great Sage, forgive the liberty; this humble immortal takes his leave.” The Pilgrim said: “Wait—let the king thank you.” The immortal laughed: “No need, no need.” He gave one long bow, rose into the air, and was gone—leaving the emperor and empress and all the ministers, great and small, bowing toward the empty sky in their haste.

When the bowing was done, the king ordered the east pavilion thrown open and a feast set to thank the four monks. King and ministers led the kneeling and bowing, and husband and wife were made whole again. Just as the feast was at its happiest the Pilgrim called: “Master, bring out that letter of challenge.” The elder drew it from his sleeve and handed it to the Pilgrim, who passed it to the king: “This letter the monster sent by one of his little officers. I beat that officer to death before he could deliver it, and brought the letter in to claim the credit. Later I went back to the mountain, changed myself into the officer, and entered the cave to give the answer; that was how I saw the lady, stole the golden bells, and was nearly taken. I changed again, stole out once more, and gave him battle. By good luck the Bodhisattva Guanyin came and took him away, and told me the reason the phoenix pair was parted…”—and from beginning to end he told it all in detail. Not one soul in the whole country, from the king down through court and household, failed to give thanks and praise. The Tang monk said: “First, this is the blessing of a worthy king; second, it is my disciple’s work. This grand feast is honor past deserving—past deserving. Let us bow farewell now, and do not delay this poor monk on his way west.” The king could not press him to stay; he had the travel rescripts changed, drew up the imperial carriage in state, and seated the Tang monk at ease in the dragon coach. King and consorts, queen and all, took hold of the spokes and pushed the wheels, seeing them off. And it is well said:

When destiny wills it, sorrow and doubt are washed away; thought fixed on nothing, the heart grows quiet of itself.

But after this, what happenings of good or ill luck lay ahead? Listen to the next chapter to find out.

Pilgrim Sun Uses a False Name to Tame the Strange Hou; Guanyin Appears in Form and Subdues the Demon King

Form is emptiness, as it has been from the beginning; and emptiness, so it is said, is form itself. If a person can see straight through the meditation on form and emptiness, what need is there to smelt cinnabar and elixir powders?Cultivate virtue in full and never slacken; endure the bitter grind of the daily work. One day, when your deeds are complete, you will ascend to Heaven's court, and your immortal face will stay young forever.

The story goes that Sai Taisui shut the front and back gates tight and searched for Pilgrim, shouting and clattering until dusk, but no trace of him could be found. He sat on the Skin-Stripping Pavilion, called his crowd of demons together, and handed down orders: every gate was to post men ringing bells and calling the watch, beating drums and clapping clappers; one and all were to string their bows, bare their blades, and keep watch through the night.

Now the Great Sage Sun had changed himself into a dull fly and was stuck fast beside the gate. Seeing the guard so tight out front, he shook out his wings and flew in to look around the entrance of the back palace. There was the Golden Sage Queen, slumped over the royal desk, tears dropping quietly, her grief sounding low. Pilgrim flew in through the door and settled lightly on her loose black cloud of hair, to hear what she was weeping about. After a moment the queen suddenly cried out: "My lord, you and I —

"In a life gone by I burned incense with a broken tip, so this life I fell in with a brazen demon king.A phoenix pair torn apart for three years — what day will we meet again? Two mandarin ducks kept in two places, and sorrow the reward.The elder sent with a message had only just brought word, when the alarm scattered our fine marriage and cost a life.All because the golden bells are hard to make out, my longing rages wilder than before."

Hearing this, Pilgrim moved around behind her ear and called softly: "Queen of the Golden Sage Palace, do not be afraid. I am still the holy monk, Elder Sun, whom your country sent; my life was not lost. It was only my own hasty temper: when I slipped up to the dressing table and stole the golden bells, you were drinking with the demon king, so I slipped out past the front pavilion — and then could not resist opening them for a look. I never meant to tug loose the cotton plugged in their mouths. The bell gave one ring, and out burst smoke, fire, and yellow sand. I lost my head, dropped the golden bells, and showed my true body. I fought hard with my iron staff but could not get out; afraid of falling into his deadly hands, I turned myself into a little fly and stuck myself on the door hinge, hiding there until now. The demon king is stricter than ever and will not open the gates. You must play the wife to him again and coax him inside to sleep, so that I can slip away and go to work, and find some other way to save you."

At these words the queen trembled from head to foot, her hair standing as if a spirit had grabbed it; faint and feeble, her heart pounded like a pestle. With eyes brimming she said: "Are you a man now, or a ghost?" Pilgrim said: "I am not a man, and I am not a ghost; for the moment I am a little fly. Do not be afraid — go quickly and invite that demon king." The queen could not believe it, and whispered through her tears: "Do not stand at my bed and mock me in a dream." Pilgrim said: "Would I dare haunt your sleep? If you do not believe me, open your hand, and let me jump down where you can see." The queen truly opened her left hand, and Pilgrim flew gently down and settled in her jade palm — just like this:

A black bean settled on the tip of a lotus bud; a roving bee come to rest on a peony.A grape dropped into the heart of an embroidered ball; a thick black dot by a lily spray.

The Golden Sage Queen held her jade palm high and cried: "Holy monk!" Pilgrim answered with a little squeak: "I am the holy monk, changed into this shape." Only then did the queen believe. She asked under her breath: "When I go and invite that demon king, how will you set about it?" Pilgrim said: "The ancients said, 'Only wine can ruin a man's whole life.' And they said too, 'Nothing drives off ten thousand troubles like wine.' Wine works in many ways; you cannot do better than keep him drinking. Call one of your own personal maids in and point her out to me. I will change into her shape, wait at your side, and take my chance."

The queen did as he said and called: "Where is Chunjiao?" From behind the screen stepped out a jade-faced fox, who knelt and said: "Her Ladyship calls Chunjiao — what are your orders?" The queen said: "Go and tell them to light the gauze lamps, burn camphor and musk, help me to the front court, and invite the great king to bed." Chunjiao turned to the front, called out seven or eight demon deer and foxes, who carried two pairs of lanterns and a pair of hanging censers and lined up to left and right. As the queen rose and folded her hands, the Great Sage had already flown off. What a Pilgrim! He spread his wings, flew straight to the head of the jade-faced fox, plucked out one hair, blew on it a mouthful of magic breath, and cried: "Change!" It became a drowsiness bug, and he set it lightly on her face. Now, when a drowsiness bug gets onto a face, it crawls toward the nostril, and the moment it crawls inside, its victim falls asleep. Chunjiao indeed began to feel drowsy; her legs would not hold her, she swayed and nodded, then hurried off to her sleeping place, dropped her head, and snored away to her heart's content. Pilgrim jumped down, shook himself, changed into Chunjiao's exact shape, and went around the screen to stand in line with the rest — but no more of that.

Now as the Golden Sage Queen walked on ahead, a small demon saw her and ran to tell Sai Taisui: "Great king, the queen has come." The demon king hurried out of the Skin-Stripping Pavilion to meet her. The queen said: "Great king, the fire and smoke have died down, and the thief has left no trace. In the dead of night I have come specially to ask you to go to rest." The demon's heart was full of joy: "Take care of yourself, my queen. That thief just now was Sun Wukong. He beat my vanguard, killed my soldiers, changed his shape to sneak in, and made fools of us. We searched high and low, and not a shadow of him was to be seen, and so my heart will not be still." The queen said: "The rogue must have gotten away. Set your mind at rest, great king, and go to your bed." The demon saw the queen standing in attendance, respectful and inviting, and did not dare refuse her flatly. He had no choice but to give his crowd of demons their orders — everyone to watch fire and candles carefully, and guard well against thieves — and then he went with the queen straight to the back palace. Pilgrim, disguised as Chunjiao, followed the two rows of maids inside.

The queen called: "Set out wine for the great king, to wash away his weariness." The demon king laughed: "Just so, just so! Bring the wine quickly; I must calm the queen's nerves." Fake Chunjiao and the other monsters laid out the fruit, set right the meats, and arranged the tables and chairs. The queen raised her cup, and the demon king offered her one of his; the two of them crossed cups. Fake Chunjiao stood by holding the wine pot and said: "Tonight is the first time the great king and the queen have crossed cups. Please drain them dry, for a double-joy cup." And truly they filled up again and drained again. "Chunjiao" said further: "It is a happy meeting of king and queen. Those of you maids who can sing, sing; those who can dance, dance." He had hardly finished when a swell of song arose, all in tune; some sang and some danced. The two of them drank a great deal more, and then the queen called a stop to the singing and dancing. The maids fell into ranks and lined up outside the screen. Only fake Chunjiao kept the pot, pouring up and down the table. The queen and the demon king talked of nothing but husband-and-wife love. The queen played the loving wife with such sweet looks and soft words that the demon king's bones melted and his sinews went slack. Only he had no luck in the end, and could not lay a finger on her. Poor creature! It was just what the saying says: a cat biting an inflated bladder — a joy that comes to nothing.

After they had talked a while and laughed a while, the queen asked: "Great king, were the treasures hurt at all?" The demon king said: "These treasures were cast and forged before the world began; how could they be hurt? Only, that thief pulled the cotton from their mouths and burned the leopard-skin wrapping." The queen said: "How will you keep them now?" The demon king said: "There is no need to keep them anywhere; I will wear them at my waist." Fake Chunjiao, hearing this, plucked out a whole handful of hairs, chewed them to bits, crept up gently to the demon king, put the hairs on his body, blew three mouthfuls of magic breath, and secretly cried: "Change!" The hairs at once became three nasty kinds of vermin — lice, fleas, and bedbugs — which worked into the demon king's clothes and bit at his skin on every side. He itched and burned past bearing, reached into his clothes to rub and scratch, and pinched out several lice with his fingertips, holding them up to the lamp to look at them. The queen, smiling to herself, said: "Great king, your under-robe must be dirty. It has gone so long without a washing that these things have bred in it." The demon king said, ashamed: "I have never in my life bred such things. Why must I be disgraced this night of all nights?" The queen laughed: "What disgrace is that, great king? There is a common saying: 'Even on the emperor's body there are three imperial lice.' Take off your clothes and let me pick them off for you." And the demon king truly undid his belt and stripped.

Fake Chunjiao stood beside him, watching the demon king's clothes with all his attention. Every layer had fleas hopping on it, every garment had big bedbugs ranked on it; lice old and young lay thick and dense, like ants pouring from a broken nest. Before he knew it he had lifted the third layer, next to the bare skin, where on the golden bells the vermin swarmed past all counting. Fake Chunjiao said: "Great king, hand me the bells, and I will pick the lice off them too." The demon king — half ashamed, half flustered, and quite unable to tell true from false — passed the three bells to fake Chunjiao. He took them in his hands and played with them a long time; then, seeing the demon king bent over shaking out the clothes, he hid the golden bells, plucked one hair, changed it into three bells exactly alike, and held them up to the lamp, turning them over. Then he wriggled his body this way and that with a shake, gathered the lice, bedbugs, and fleas back onto himself, and handed the false golden bells to the monster. The monster took them in his hands, more muddled than ever, quite unable to tell true from false; he held the bells out in both hands to the queen and said: "This time you must keep them well — carefully, carefully. Do not let it happen as it did before." The queen took them, gently opened the clothes chest, stowed the false bells away, and locked it with a lock of gold. Then she drank a few more cups with the demon king and told the maids: "Wipe the bed clean and spread the brocade coverlet; the great king and I will sleep together." The demon king assented again and again: "No luck, no luck! I dare not keep you company. I will take a palace maid to sleep in the west palace. My queen, settle yourself for the night." And so each went to bed — but no more of that.

Now fake Chunjiao had won his prize, the treasure hung at his waist. He showed his true form, shook his body to take back the drowsiness bug, and headed straight for the gate. Clappers and bells were sounding together — the third watch was being beaten. What a Pilgrim! He pinched a sign, murmured a true word, and used a spell of invisibility, going straight to the gate, where the bolts and locks were close and many. He took out the gold-banded staff, pointed it at the gate, and used his art of opening locks; the gate swung gently open. He strode quickly out through the door and stood there, calling in a ringing voice: "Sai Taisui! Give me back my Golden Sage Queen!" He called two or three times over, alarming the demons great and small; they looked in haste — the front gate stood open. They hurried up with lamps to look for the lock and locked the gate up again as before. A few of them ran inside with the report: "Great king, someone outside the main gate is shouting your honored title and demanding the Golden Sage Queen!" The maids inside came out of the palace gate and passed the word quietly: "Do not shout so; the king has just fallen asleep." Pilgrim shouted again at the gate, and again the small demons dared not go and disturb him. Three or four times it went like this, and none dared carry the report in. The Great Sage outside kept up his racket until dawn broke. Then he could bear it no longer: swinging the iron staff, he began to batter the gate. Demons great and small panicked — some threw themselves against the gate, some ran to carry word. The demon king had just finished one sleep; hearing the din and clamor, he got up, dressed, came out from the bed curtains, and asked: "What is all this shouting?" The maids sank to their knees: "Sire, we do not know what creature has been cursing outside the cave half the night; and now he is beating on the gate."

The demon king walked out of the palace gate. The few small demons on report duty knocked their heads in a fluster: "Someone outside is cursing and demanding Golden Sage Queen; if the word 'no' were said so much as half a time, he would pour out any number of foul sayings, most unpleasant to hear. Since daybreak came and your Majesty did not come out, he has been driven to beating the gate." The demon said: "Do not open it yet. Go and ask him where he comes from, and what his name is; come back and report quickly." The small demon hurried out and asked through the gate: "Who is that beating on the gate?" Pilgrim said: "I am the 'outside grandfather' invited here by the Kingdom of Zhuzi, come to take Her Majesty the Golden Sage Queen back to her country." The small demon heard this and went back to report it word for word. The demon then went to the back palace to question the queen. Now the queen had only just gotten up and had not yet combed or washed, when the maids came with the word: "Sire is coming." She hurried to put her clothes in order, let down and gathered up her black-cloud hair, and came out of the palace to greet him. She had only just sat down and had no time to ask anything when a small demon came again with the report: "That outside grandfather outside has already broken the gate down!" The demon laughed: "Queen, how many generals and marshals has your court?" The queen said: "At court there are the men and horses of forty-eight guards and a thousand good generals; the marshals and commanders on every border are past counting." The demon king said: "Is there one among them surnamed Wai?" The queen said: "I, in the palace, know only what goes on inside — helping my lord the king, and morning and evening teaching the ladies of the palace. The affairs of the outside world are beyond me; how would I remember names?" The demon king said: "This fellow calls himself her 'outside grandfather.' But look as I may in the Hundred Family Surnames, there is no surname Wai, 'Outside,' in it. You are clever by nature and noble by birth, and you have lived in the royal palace; you must have read many books. Can you remember in which book there is such a surname?" The queen said: "Only the Thousand Character Text has the line 'Outside, receive your teacher's teaching.' It must be that one."

The demon king was delighted: "It must be so, it must be so!" He rose at once, took his leave of the queen, went up on the Skin-Stripping Pavilion, dressed himself in full array, mustered his demon troops, opened the gate, and marched straight outside, a spread-flower battle-axe in his hand, and shouted: "Which of you is the outside grandfather from the Kingdom of Zhuzi?" Pilgrim gripped the gold-banded staff in his right hand and pointed with his left: "Dear nephew, what do you want with me?" At this the demon king's heart boiled with rage: "You there —

Your figure is a monkey's, your face the face of an ape.Seven parts of you are devil through and through, yet you have the gall to bully men."

Pilgrim laughed: "You law-defying, king-betraying monster — so you have no eyes! Five hundred years ago, when I wrecked the Heavenly Palace, not one of the divine generals of the Nine Heavens, on seeing me, dared leave out the word 'old' when they addressed me. And you call me one cry of 'grandfather' — where is the loss to you?" The demon king roared: "Speak quickly! What is your name, and what martial arts do you have, that you dare run wild on my ground?" Pilgrim said: "If you had not asked my name, it would not matter. But if I must say my name, I fear you will have nowhere left to stand. Come up here, plant your feet firmly, and listen:

My parents who begot me were Heaven and Earth; the essence of sun and moon formed my sacred embryo.A fairy stone carried me, with no count of years; a wondrous root nursed me — how marvelous!The year I was born the three lights shone at peace; today, come back to truth, all things accord with me.Once I gathered the demons in a troop and was called their chief; I could tame every monster, and they bowed at my cinnabar cliff.The Jade Emperor sent down a summons, and the Gold Star of Venus came holding the decree.They invited me up to Heaven to take up a post; I was titled Bimawen (Keeper of the Heavenly Horses), and my heart was not glad.With my first thoughts I rebelled and schemed from my mountain cave; boldly I raised my host and wrecked the palace stairs.Heavenly King Li, the Pagoda Bearer, and his princely son met me in battle; in a single round they were all beaten to a sorry state.The Gold Star again petitioned the Emperor of the Dark Vault, and down came a second decree of amnesty.I was made the true Great Sage Equal to Heaven; only then could I be called timber for pillar and beam.Then, because I threw the Peach Banquet into an uproar, wine in my trust, I stole the elixir and drew down disaster.The Supreme Lord Lao petitioned the throne in person, and the Queen Mother of the Western Pool laid her plea at the Jasper Terrace.They knew it was I who flouted the king's law; they mustered the heavenly host on the spot and issued the fire tallies.A hundred thousand baleful stars and evil planets, with spears, swords, and halberds ranked thick on thick.A net of heaven, a web of earth, spread over every hill; blades rose together for one great reckoning.We fought one savage battle with no victory on either side, and Guanyin recommended that Erlang be sent.The two sides met to settle which was the better man; he had his brothers of Mount Mei at his side.Each showed his heroism, each worked his transformations; before Heaven's gate the three sages pushed the clouds apart.The Lord Lao flung down his diamond snare, and the gods seized me and hauled me to the golden steps.There was no need to weigh a signed confession; my crime was sentenced to the slicing death, to the blade and the axe.Axes chopping, hammers pounding could not harm my life; swords swung and blades hacking — how should they wound me?Fire burned me, thunder battered me, and it came to nothing; no device could destroy my long-lived embryo.I was hauled off to the Tushita courtyard of the Great Clarity, and all was arranged for the smelting in the furnace.When the days were fulfilled they opened the cauldron; out of the middle of it I leaped.In my hand I leveled this As-You-Will staff, turned head over heels, and fought my way up the Jade Dragon Terrace.Every star, every constellation, went into hiding; I wrecked the Heavenly Palace and twisted it as I pleased.The Numinous Officer on patrol hurried off to beg the Buddha, and Shakyamuni crossed talents with me.Inside his palm I turned my somersaults, wandering the whole round of heaven, out and back again.The Buddha used a trick of foreknowledge to beguile me, and under his hand I was pinned at the sky's rim.Now five hundred years and more have gone by; my slight body freed, I am up to my tricks again.Specially do I guard the Tang monk on his road to the Western lands; Wukong the Pilgrim — the name is plain to all.Subduing demons all along the western road — what demon power does not dread me!"

Hearing him name "Wukong the Pilgrim," the demon king said: "So you are that fellow who wrecked the Heavenly Palace! If you have freed yourself and now guard the Tang monk on his journey west, you might have gone your own way and been done with it. Why must you meddle in matters not your own and make yourself a bondslave to Zhuzi, coming here to seek your death?" Pilgrim roared: "Brazen, thieving monster! Ignorant talk! I accepted the courtesy of Zhuzi's invitation, and I have enjoyed the honor of their welcome. This old Sun stands a thousand times higher than any royal throne; they revere me as they would father and mother and serve me as they would a god — and you say the words 'bondslave' to me? You king-betraying, law-defying monster — do not move! Taste your grandfather's staff!" The demon, in a panic, twisted aside to dodge and met him face to face with his spread-flower axe. It was a fine fight! See:

The gold-banded As-You-Will staff against the wind-bladed spread-flower axe. One ground his teeth in savage fury; the other set his jaw and showed his might. This one was the Great Sage Equal to Heaven come down among men; that one was the demon king of mischief come down to the earth. The two breathed clouds and belched mists that lit up the Heavenly Palace; stones flew and sand swirled, veiling the palace of the stars. They came and went with move upon move; they rolled and turned, spitting golden light. Each brought out his whole skill; each staked his store of magic. This one meant to take the queen back to the imperial capital; that one was glad to keep his empress in his mountain hollow. This whole battle had no cause at all — they threw away their lives and forgot death, all for a king.

The two of them fought fifty rounds with no winner decided. The demon king saw how high Pilgrim's skill ran, judged he could not win, caught the iron staff on his axe, and said: "Sun Pilgrim, hold a moment. I have not yet had my morning meal today. Let me go in and eat, and then come back and settle high and low with you." Pilgrim knew very well he meant to go fetch the bells, put away his iron staff, and said: "A good man does not chase a worn-out rabbit. Go along, go along; eat your fill, and come back to collect your death."

The demon hurried inside and said to the queen: "Quick — bring me the treasure." The queen said: "What do you want the treasure for?" The demon king said: "The one who called me out to battle this morning is a disciple of the monk who seeks the scriptures, one Sun Wukong the Pilgrim, falsely calling himself her outside grandfather. We have fought until this moment with no winner. Let me take the treasure out, let loose some smoke and fire, and burn that monkey head." The queen heard this and her heart lurched: if she did not hand over the bells, he would grow suspicious; if she handed them over, she feared for Pilgrim's life. While she still wavered, the demon king pressed her again: "Quickly — bring them out." The queen had no choice; she opened the lock with its key and handed the three bells to the demon king. He took them and walked straight out of the cave. The queen sat in the palace, tears falling like rain, wondering whether Pilgrim could get away with his life. And neither of the two knew that the bells were false.

The demon went out the gate and took his stand where the wind would favor him, calling: "Sun Pilgrim, do not run! Watch me shake my bells!" Pilgrim laughed: "You have bells — and I have none? You know how to shake them — and I do not?" The demon king said: "What bells do you have? Bring them out and let me see." Pilgrim squeezed his iron staff into an embroidery needle, hid it in his ear, then untied the three true treasures from his waist and said to the demon king: "Are these not my purple-gold bells?" The demon king looked and his heart jumped: "Strange, strange! How can his bells be just like mine, to the last hair? Even if they were cast from one mold, the polishing would fall short somewhere — one would have an extra scratch, or be missing its knob. How can they match so exactly?" He asked again: "Where did your bells come from?" Pilgrim said: "Dear nephew, where did yours come from?" The demon king answered honestly: "My bells —

"The immortal lord of Great Clarity, whose Way wells from a deep source, smelted gold long in the Eight Trigrams furnace.The finished bells are prized as the highest treasure; the Lord Lao left them behind, and they have come down to this day."

Pilgrim laughed: "Old Sun's bells date from that very same time." The demon king said: "And what origin do they have? Tell me." Pilgrim said: "My bells —

"The ancestor of the Way refined elixir in the Tushita Palace; the golden bells were kneaded and smelted in that furnace.Two threes make six — a treasure that turns in a circle: mine is the female, and yours the male."

The demon king said: "Bells are the treasure of the golden elixir, not birds or beasts; how can you tell female from male? The only test is whether they shake out their wonders." Pilgrim said: "Words prove nothing; the deed will show. Let you shake first."

The demon king truly shook the first bell three times — no fire came out; he shook the second three times — no smoke came out; he shook the third three times — and no sand came out either. The demon king's hands went weak with fright: "Strange, strange! The ways of the world have changed. These bells must be henpecked — when the male sees the female, nothing will come out!" Pilgrim said: "Dear nephew, stop your hand; now watch me shake mine." The good monkey gripped all three bells in one fist and shook them all together. And look: red fire, green smoke, and yellow sand rolled out in a flood, scorching the trees and burning the mountains. The Great Sage murmured a spell besides, called toward the southeast, the quarter of wind — "Wind, come!" — and truly the wind drove the fire's fury and the fire rode the wind's might: red flames leaping, black smoke lying heavy; smoke and fire filled the sky, and yellow sand covered the earth. It frightened Sai Taisui out of his wits, his soul scattered, no road left to run; in the middle of that fire, how could he save his life?

Then a stern voice rang out from mid-air: "Sun Wukong, I am come!" Pilgrim hurriedly turned his eyes upward: it was the Bodhisattva Guanyin, the pure vase held in her left hand and the willow sprig in her right, sprinkling down sweet dew to quench the fire. Pilgrim, in a flurry, stowed the bells at his waist, pressed his palms together, and threw himself down in worship. The Bodhisattva flicked the willow branch and shook down a few drops of dew, and in an instant the smoke and fire were all gone and the yellow sand had vanished without a trace. Pilgrim knocked his head on the ground: "I did not know your great mercy had come down into the world, and I failed to stand aside. May I ask where the Bodhisattva was bound?" The Bodhisattva said: "I have come specially to take this demon." Pilgrim said: "What is this demon's history, that your golden body must come down in person to take him?" The Bodhisattva said: "He is the golden-haired hou that I ride. Because the boy who grazed him fell asleep at his post and failed in his watch, this wicked beast bit through his iron chain and ran away — and so he came to purge the king of Zhuzi of his allotted calamity." Hearing this, Pilgrim leaned forward and said quickly: "Bodhisattva, you have it backwards! Here he has deceived the king and tricked the queen, rotted decent custom and wounded good morals, and brought misery on that king — and you call it purging calamity. Why?" The Bodhisattva said: "You do not know the whole of it. When the former king of Zhuzi still reigned, this king was only heir apparent, not yet on the throne. In his youth he loved nothing so much as the chase. He led out his men and horses, loosing hawks and hounds, and came to the front of Falling Phoenix Slope. Now the Buddha-Mother, the Peacock Great Bright King Bodhisattva, had borne two children there, a male and a female fledgling, resting their wings at the foot of the slope. When this king bent his bow he wounded the male peacock, and the female peacock also flew west with an arrow in her. After the Buddha-Mother had done her penance, she ordained that he be parted from his phoenix mate for three years and afflicted with a wasting sickness. At that time I was riding this hou and heard those words along with him. Who would have thought the wicked beast took note, and so he came to steal away the queen and purge the king's calamity. Now the three years are full and the debt of wrong is paid, and happily you came to cure the king's affliction. I have come specially to take the demon back." Pilgrim said: "Bodhisattva, grant the story is all as you say — still he defiled the queen, rotted custom and wounded morals, broke the bonds of kin and trampled the law, and has earned death. Now that your Holiness has come in person and pardons him his death, you cannot pardon him his punishment while he lives. Let me give him twenty blows of the staff, and then you may take him away with you." The Bodhisattva said: "Wukong, since you know I have come down, you should respect my part in this and pardon him altogether; count it as one more triumph over demons on your record. If that staff once falls, he is simply dead." Pilgrim dared not go against her word; he could only bow and say: "Since the Bodhisattva takes him back to the southern sea, never again let him come down privately among men. The harm he could do is not small."

The Bodhisattva then cried out: "Wicked beast! If you will not return to your true form now, when will you?" The monster rolled over on the ground and showed his original body, shaking out his coat of hair, and the Bodhisattva mounted him. She looked again under his neck: the three golden bells were gone. The Bodhisattva said: "Wukong, give me back my bells." Pilgrim said: "Old Sun knows nothing of it." The Bodhisattva cried: "You thieving monkey! If you had not stolen those bells, one Wukong — ten Wukongs — would never have dared come near him. Hand them over quickly." Pilgrim laughed: "Truly, I never set eyes on them." The Bodhisattva said: "If you never set eyes on them, let me recite the Tight-Fillet Spell." Now Pilgrim panicked, crying only: "Do not recite it, do not recite it! The bells are here!" And this was justly said: who can untie the golden bells on the hou's neck? The one who unties the bell must ask the one who tied it. The Bodhisattva hung the bells beneath the hou's neck and rose into the air, seated high. See how flames flare from his four lotus feet, and golden threads bristle darkly over all his body. The Great Merciful One returned to the South Sea — but no more of that.

Now the Great Sage Sun straightened his robes, swung his iron staff, and fought his way into the Xiezhi Cave, beating the crowd of demons and monsters to death and clearing them out to the last one. He went into the palace and begged the Golden Sage Queen to return with him to her country. The queen bowed to him over and over without end. Pilgrim told her the whole story: how the Bodhisattva took the demon, and why the phoenix pair had been parted. He gathered some soft grass and twisted it into a grass dragon, and said: "Mount up, my queen. Shut your eyes and do not be afraid; I will carry you back to court to see your lord." The queen did exactly as she was told; Pilgrim worked his magic power, and there was only the sound of wind in their ears.

Within the hour he had brought her into the city. He let down the cloud, called: "My queen, open your eyes!" — and the queen opened her eyes, saw the phoenix towers and dragon halls, and knew them for her own. Her heart leaped; she left the grass dragon and mounted the great hall at Pilgrim's side. The king saw her, hurried down from the dragon bed, came and took the queen's jade hand, wanting to pour out his longing — and suddenly fell flat on the ground, crying: "My hand hurts! My hand hurts!" Bajie burst out laughing: "What a sight! No luck to enjoy her — one touch and he is stung half dead." Pilgrim said: "Idiot! Would you dare take her by the hand?" Bajie said: "And what if I did take her hand?" Pilgrim said: "The queen's body has grown poison thorns; her hands carry a venom that stings. In her three years on Kirin Mountain with that Sai Taisui, the demon never once touched her body. Whoever touches her body suffers in the body; whoever touches her hand suffers in the hand." The officials heard this and cried: "What can be done?" At that moment the officials outside were sick with worry, and the palace ladies within were trembling with fear; the queens of the Jade Sage and the Silver Sage palaces helped the king to his feet.

All were in the middle of this panic when a voice called from mid-air: "Great Sage, I am come!" Pilgrim raised his head to look and saw:

A crane's cry sweeps up to heaven; gliding, it comes straight to the court. Holy light winds about in strands; auspicious vapors drift on the air. A palm-bark cloak wraps his body and gives off cloud and smoke; straw sandals on his feet, a sight seldom seen. In his hand a fly-whisk of dragon whisker; a silk cord wound about his waist. Everywhere under heaven and earth he binds himself to men in friendship, roaming free to the ends of the land. This is the Purple Cloud Immortal of the Great Luo Heaven, come down today to break a spell.

Pilgrim came forward to meet him: "Where are you bound, Zhang Ziyang?" The True Man Ziyang came to the foot of the hall, bowed with folded hands, and said: "Great Sage, this humble immortal Zhang Boduan salutes you." Pilgrim returned the salute: "Where do you come from?" The True Man said: "Three years ago this humble immortal attended a Buddhist assembly, and passing this way I saw the king of Zhuzi under the grief of a parted phoenix pair. I feared the demon would defile the queen, wronging the bonds between man and wife, so that afterward she could never be joined to the king again. So I changed an old palm-bark coat into a new rainbow robe, shining with five colors, and presented it to the demon king, telling him to dress the queen in it as her bridal gown. The moment the queen put it on, poison thorns grew all over her. Those poison thorns were the palm-bark coat. Today, hearing the Great Sage has succeeded, I have come specially to break the spell." Pilgrim said: "In that case, you have had a long journey for nothing — come, quickly, take it off her." The True Man stepped forward, pointed one finger at the queen, and the palm-bark coat came away. The queen's body from head to foot was as it had always been. The True Man shook out the coat, threw it over his own shoulders, and said to Pilgrim: "Great Sage, forgive the liberty. This humble immortal takes his leave." Pilgrim said: "Wait a moment, and let the king thank you." The True Man laughed: "No need, no need." With one long bow he rose into the air and was gone. The emperor and empress and all the ministers, great and small, hurried to bow again and again toward the empty sky.

When the bowing was done, the king ordered the eastern pavilion thrown open to feast the four monks in thanks. The king led all his people in kneeling obeisance, and husband and wife were made one again. In the middle of the rejoicing Pilgrim called: "Master, hand me that letter of challenge." The elder drew it from his sleeve and passed it to Pilgrim, and Pilgrim passed it to the king, saying: "The demon sent this letter by one of his small soldiers. I had already beaten that soldier to death and brought the letter to your court to report the deed. Afterward I went back to the mountain, changed myself into the soldier's shape, and entered the cave to deliver the answer — and so it was that I saw the queen, stole the golden bells, and came within a hair of being caught. I changed my shape again, stole back out, and gave him battle. Happily the Bodhisattva Guanyin came and took him away, and told me the reason for the parted phoenix pair…" — and he told it all from beginning to end, in detail. There was not one person in the whole kingdom, from the king and his ministers to the last within the walls, who did not give thanks and praise. The Tang monk said: "First, it is the fruit of a wise king's virtue; second, the work of my disciple. This grand feast you have spread — it is too much, far too much. Let us make our bows and part now, so that your poor monk is not delayed on his way west." The king could not press them to stay, so he had the travel rescripts endorsed, drew up the royal carriages in grand array, and asked the Tang monk to sit at ease in the dragon carriage. King and consorts took hold of the hubs and pushed the wheels, following them out in farewell. Truly:

For those fated, the sickness of sorrow and doubt is washed away clean; craving ended and thought at rest, the heart is tranquil of itself.

As they go on from here, what good luck or what disaster still awaits them? Listen to the next chapter to find out.