Chapter 77

The Demon Host Affronts the Root Nature; with One Body They Bow to the True Suchness

Of the Tang elder's distress we say no more for now. The three demon kings, with all their heart and all their strength, fought the Great Sage's three brothers hard, in the half-mountain east of the city. It was truly an iron whisk scrubbing a copper pot—every stroke rang hard. The fine slaughter:

Six bodies, six weapons; six frames, six tempers.Six ills, six roots, born of six desires; at six gates and six ways they stake win and loss.In the thirty-six palaces spring ranges free; six times six, forms and colors, with hatred for a name.This one with the gold-banded staff, a thousand arts; that one with the square-shaft halberd, a hundred splendors.Bajie's muckrake fierce and fiercer; the second demon's long spear deft and strong.Little Sha Monk's precious staff no common thing, minded to kill; the old demon king's steel blade swift and sharp, lifting his hand without pity.These three: generals guarding the true monk, matchless; those three: wild sprites confounding the law, affronting heaven.At first it was bearable; later it raged ever worse.All six worked the art of rising into air, tumbling each in the clouds.In a moment they spewed fog and jetted cloud, heaven and earth darkened; roaring and howling, only the sound was heard.

The six of them fought a long while, and the sky darkened by degrees. Then the wind and fog came thick, and all was black in a moment. Now Bajie's ears were so big they hung over his eyelids, and the gloom thickened on him; his hands and feet were slow, and he could not keep his guard: trailing his rake, he broke off and ran. The old demon raised his blade and hacked, nearly taking his life. Happily his head dodged clear, but the blade sheared off several bristles of his mane; the demon caught him, opened his mouth, bit him by the collar, carried him into the city, gave him to the little demons, and had him bound in the golden throne hall. The old demon mounted his cloud again to help in the sky. Sha Monk, seeing things going ill, feinted with his precious staff and turned to run for himself. The second demon flipped out his trunk; with a sound it wound him up, hands and all, and carried him into the city, where the little demons bound him too before the hall. And up into the air again to call for the Pilgrim's taking.

The Pilgrim saw his two brothers taken; alone he could not hold the field—and as they say: the best hand is no match for two fists, and two fists are no match for four hands. With a shout he turned his staff and warded off the weapons of the three demons, sprang to the somersault cloud, and fled. The third demon, seeing the Pilgrim take his somersault, shook his body, showed his true form, spread his two wings, and gave chase to the Great Sage. How could he catch him, do you think? In the old days, when the Pilgrim wrecked the Heavenly Palace, a hundred thousand celestial troops could not hold him, because he rode the somersault cloud, a hundred and eight thousand li at a bound; so no god could catch him. This demon, at one beat of his wings, covered ninety thousand li: two beats and he had passed him. So he seized him in one grab and held him in his claw; struggle this way and that, the Pilgrim could not get free. He thought to escape, but there was no slipping out. He tried his transformations and his arts of escape, and neither would serve: grow a little bigger, and the demon loosened his grip and held him; grow a little smaller, and the demon tightened it and held him. Carried straight back into the city, he was let go and dropped in the dust, and the demon ordered his host to bind him with the others. The old demon and the second demon came down to meet them, and the three demon kings went up to the jeweled hall together. Ah! This taking of the Pilgrim was plainly nothing but seeing him off.

It was about the second watch. The demons had all met and exchanged their news, and pushed the Tang monk down before the hall. By lamplight the elder suddenly saw his three disciples bound on the ground, and the old master flung himself beside the Pilgrim, weeping: “Disciples! In every other calamity you were outside, working your powers, going for aid and quelling demons; and now you too are taken—how shall I, a poor monk, keep my life?” Bajie and Sha Monk heard their master's grief and wept aloud together. The Pilgrim said, smiling a little: “Master, set your heart at rest; brothers, do not weep. Let them do as they please—no harm will come of it. When that old demon has gone quiet, we go on our way.” Bajie said: “Brother, more of your devilry. Hemp rope binds me; loosen it a little and they douse me with water. Maybe a lean fellow like you does not feel it—me, the fat one, I am plague-taken. Look, if you will not believe: on my two shoulders it has bitten two inches into the flesh. How do I get free?” The Pilgrim laughed: “Never mind hemp rope—if it were a palm-thick palm-fiber cable, it would pass like an autumn wind past my ears. What is there rare in it?”

As master and disciples talked, they heard the old demon: “Our worthy third brother has strength and craft; his fine plan is made, and the Tang monk is taken.” He called: “Little ones! Five to fetch water, seven to scour the pot, ten to tend the fire, twenty to bring out the iron steamer: steam those four monks done, and my brothers and I will enjoy them; and let each of you little ones have a share, that you too may live forever.” Bajie heard, trembling: “Brother, listen—the demon means to steam and eat us.” The Pilgrim said: “Do not be afraid. Let me see whether he is a fledgling demon or a master hand.” Sha Monk wept: “Brother, none of your comfortable talk. We are next door to King Yama already—what talk of fledgling and master hand?” Before the words were done they heard the second demon: “Zhu Bajie is no good for steaming.” Bajie rejoiced: “Amida Buddha! Who is the pious soul that says I am no good for steaming?” The third said: “No good for steaming? Then strip his skin and steam him.” Bajie panicked and cried aloud: “Do not strip my skin! Coarse I may be—one boil of the water and I go to pieces.” The old monster said: “Put the one that steams badly on the lowest rack.” The Pilgrim laughed: “Do not fear, Bajie—a fledgling, no master hand.” Sha Monk said: “How do you know?” The Pilgrim said: “When things are steamed, the steam comes from above. The one that steams badly goes on the top rack: burn a good fire, let the steam go round, and it is done. But set it on the bottom, and once the steam stops, you may burn half a year and the steam will never climb. He says Bajie steams badly and sets him on the bottom—if that is not a fledgling, what is?” Bajie said: “Brother, by your telling, I am a murdered man alive. He will be hard set to see the steam rise; he will lift the steamer, turn me over, build the fire again—and make me done on both sides and half-raw in the middle?”

While they talked, a little demon came to report: “The water boils.” The old monster gave the word to lift them on. The demons set to together: Bajie was lifted onto the lowest rack, Sha Monk onto the second. The Pilgrim judged they were coming for him; he slipped himself free: “By this lamplight is a good time to work.” He plucked one hair, blew on it a breath of immortal air, and cried, “Change!” It became a Pilgrim bound in hemp rope. His true body left its shell and sprang into mid-air to watch from above. The demons, who could not tell true from false, carried up whoever came to hand, and the false Pilgrim was lifted onto the third rack; then they dragged the Tang monk over, trussed him, and lifted him onto the fourth. Dry wood was heaped and lit, flame and smoke rolling high. The Great Sage sighed from the clouds: “My Bajie and Sha Monk can stand two boilings; my master—one boiling and he comes apart. If I do not work an art to save him, in a moment he is lost.”

Good Pilgrim! In the air he pinched the spell-sign, murmured the charm “Om, lan, purify the dharma realm; qian, yuan, heng, li, zhen,” and summoned the Dragon King of the Northern Sea, who came at once. Out of the clouds a single dark cloud answered aloud: “The little dragon Ao Shun of the Northern Sea knocks his head.” The Pilgrim said: “Rise, rise. I would not trouble you without cause. I have come here with Master Tang; a wicked demon has taken him and set him in an iron steamer. Go you and protect him—let him not be steamed to ruin.” The Dragon King at once changed himself into a cold wind, blew in beneath the steamer, circled and guarded, so that no fire's heat touched the pot, and the three kept their lives.

It wanted a little of the third watch's end when they heard the old demon give his orders: “Men below: we spent our craft and wore our bodies to take the Tang monk and his three; and we have not slept four days and nights for the labor of the escort. Now they are bound in the steamer, and I judge they will not escape. Watch them carefully; set ten little demons to tend the fire in relays; we withdraw to our palaces and sleep a little. At the fifth watch, when the sky lightens, they must be done to rags: have garlic paste, salt, and vinegar set out, and wake us to eat them fasting.” The demons took their orders, and the three demon kings went off each to his sleeping palace.

The Pilgrim in the clouds heard the orders plain, and let his cloud down low: no voice came from the steamer. He thought: “The fire's heat rises; it must be hot in there. Why are they not afraid, not one word or groan? Can they be steamed dead? Let me come close and listen again.” Good Great Sage! Treading his cloud, he shook himself into a black fly, stuck on the outside of the iron steamer, and listened: inside Bajie was saying: “Ill luck, ill luck! Is this the covered steam, or the open steam?” Sha Monk said: “Second brother, what is ‘covered steam’ and ‘open steam’?” Bajie said: “Covered steam is with the steamer hooded; open steam, uncovered.” Tripitaka answered from the topmost rack: “Disciple, it is not hooded.” Bajie said: “Fortune! We shall not die tonight—this is open steam.” The Pilgrim heard the three of them talking, their lives not yet lost, and flew over and set the iron hood on softly. Tripitaka panicked: “Disciple, it is hooded!” Bajie said: “It is over—this is covered steam; tonight we die for certain.” Sha Monk and the elder whimpered and wept. Bajie said: “Do not weep yet—the fire-tenders have just changed their shift.” Sha Monk said: “How do you know?” Bajie said: “When they first lifted me up it suited me: I have a chill-damp ailment, and wanted the steaming. Now a cold air is rising instead. Ah! Master fire-tenders, what would it cost you to throw on some wood? Would it cost you your lives?”

The Pilgrim heard and could not help laughing in himself: “This clod: cold he can bear, but if the heat comes his life goes. Two more words and the secret is out—I must save him quick. And yet—to save him I must show my true form. Suppose I show it and the ten fire-tenders see me and set up a shout, rousing the old monster—that is more trouble again. Let me first give them a gift.” Suddenly he remembered: “When I was Great Sage of old, I played guessing games with the Heavenly King who Guards the Nation at the North Heaven Gate, and won some drowsiness bugs off him. There are some yet—give them to him.” He felt in the sash at his waist: twelve left. “I will give ten and keep two for seed.” He tossed the bugs out, scattering them on the faces of the ten little demons; they crawled into their nostrils, and little by little the demons nodded and toppled asleep. Only one, holding the fire fork, could not settle: rubbing his head, kneading his face, pinching his nose this way and that, sneezing without pause. The Pilgrim said: “This fellow knows his business. I will give him a double lamp for it.” And threw one more bug on his face. “Two bugs, one in at the left and out at the right, out at the right and in at the left: surely one of them will settle.” The little demon gave two or three great yawns, stretched his back, dropped the fire fork, and flopped asleep, never to turn over.

The Pilgrim said: “This art is truly fine and true.” He showed his true form, came close, and called: “Master.” The Tang monk heard: “Wukong—save me!” Sha Monk said: “Brother, are you calling from outside?” The Pilgrim said: “If I were not outside, I should be in there taking the punishment with you.” Bajie said: “Brother, the slippery one has slipped away, and we are the ones left holding the jar, taking the covered steam in here.” The Pilgrim laughed: “Idiot, no shouting—I am come to save you.” Bajie said: “Brother, if you save, save to the root; do not put us back in the steamer.” The Pilgrim raised the hood, untied the master, shook the false hair of his double and gathered it back to his body; then rack by rack he freed Sha Monk, and freed Bajie. The Idiot, the moment he was loose, was off like a shot. The Pilgrim said: “Not yet, not yet.” He murmured a spell, dismissed the dragon god, and then said to Bajie: “Between here and the Western Heaven there are high mountains and steep passes still. Without his mount, the master cannot travel; wait till I fetch the horse.

Look at him: light of hand, soft of foot, down to the foot of the golden throne hall, where all the demons great and small lay sleeping. He undid the reins without startling a soul. The horse was the dragon horse: had a stranger touched him he would have kicked twice and whinnied; but the Pilgrim had kept horses once, and held the post of Keeper of Heavenly Horses, and was of his own company—so the horse neither kicked nor cried. He led him out quietly, cinched the girth, had all in readiness, and asked the master to mount. The elder climbed on trembling, and would be off at once. The Pilgrim said: “Not yet, though. West of us lies another kingdom; we need the travel rescripts to pass, or what papers shall we show? Let me go find the baggage.” The Tang monk said: “I remember: when they brought us in, the demons set the baggage on the left below the golden hall, and the carrying-pole was on that side too.” The Pilgrim said: “I know it.” He sprang up to the jeweled hall to hunt—and suddenly saw a shimmer of radiance. He knew it for the baggage. How did he know? The Tang monk's brocade cassock had a night-luminous pearl in it, and so it shone. Hurrying to it, he found the pole-bundles sealed and untouched, snatched them up, and gave them to Sha Monk to carry.

Bajie led the horse, the Pilgrim led the way, and they made straight for the Zhengyang Gate. There came a clanging of watchboards and bells; the gate was locked, and the lock sealed with paper. The Pilgrim said: “Guarded like this—how do we pass?” Bajie said: “By the back gate, then.” The Pilgrim led the way to the back gate; outside the Rear Guard Gate too came the sound of watchboard and bell; the gate too was sealed and locked. “What is to be done? If it were not that the Tang monk is a mortal body, the three of us would ride off on wind and cloud any way at all. Only the Tang monk is not yet beyond the three realms: he stands within the five elements; his whole body is his parents' turbid bones, and so he cannot rise and ride, and cannot slip away.” Bajie said: “Brother, no more talk. Where there are no watchboards or guards, let us hoist the master over the wall.” The Pilgrim laughed: “That will not do. In this pinch, hoist him we may; but when the scriptures are fetched and we come home, this glib Idiot will be telling people everywhere that we are monks who got over walls.” Bajie said: “Decency can go hang at such a time; let us save our lives first.” The Pilgrim had no better plan, and gave in: to the bare stretch of wall they went, reckoning to climb out.

Ah! And such a thing came of it—the star of Tripitaka's calamity was not yet clear. The three demon kings slept in the palace and woke with a start: the Tang monk was fled. Cloaks thrown on, up in haste, they hurried to the jeweled hall and asked: “How many boilings has the Tang monk had?” The fire-tenders, all with drowsiness bugs in them, slept fast—beating them would not have waked one. Of the rest, a few without duties were startled awake and answered at random: “Seven—seven—seven boilings.” Rushing to the pot they saw the steamer racks flung about the floor, and the fire-tenders still asleep. In a fright they came to report: “Your Majesty—fled, fled, fled!” The three demon kings came down from the hall and looked closely at the pot: truly the racks lay flung on the ground, the water cold, the fire dead out, and the fire-tenders snoring like mud. The demons raised a general shout: “Take the Tang monk! Take the Tang monk!” The cry rose and startled the demons front and back, great and small; with blades and spears they crowded to the Zhengyang Gate: seals and locks untouched, watchboards still clanging. They asked the night patrols outside: “Which way did the Tang monk go?” All said: “No one has passed out.” They rushed to the Rear Guard Gate: seals, locks, watchboards, all as at the front. Back they surged with lanterns and torches till the sky glowed red as day—and by that light, plainly, they saw the four of them climbing the wall. The old demon closed in and shouted: “Where now?” The elder's legs went soft and his sinews slack; he fell from the wall into the old demon's hands. The second demon took Sha Monk, the third threw Bajie; the demons seized the baggage and the white horse—only the Pilgrim got away. And Bajie, grumbling and muttering at the Pilgrim: “Plague take him! I said: if you save, save to the root—and here we are back in the cage for steaming.”

The demons brought the Tang monk up to the hall—and this time they did not steam him. The second ordered Bajie bound to a pillar at the front of the hall; the third ordered Sha Monk bound to a pillar at the back; only the old demon held the Tang monk and would not let go. The third said: “Elder brother, why hold him so? You cannot mean to eat him alive? That has no relish in it. This is not like the dull vulgar flesh of common men, taken to fill the belly: this is a rarity of a great kingdom, and it must wait for a leisurely, overcast day—then bring him out, dress him with all care, play guessing games and pass the wine cup, and eat him to flute and fiddle.” The old demon laughed: “Well said, good brother—but the Pilgrim Sun will come thieving again.” The third said: “Within this palace there is a brocade-pavilion arbor, and within the arbor an iron chest. My way: hide the Tang monk in the chest, shut the pavilion, and then put about a story that the Tang monk has been eaten half-cooked; have the little demons tell it all over the city. The Pilgrim is sure to come fishing for news; hearing that, he will go off with his heart settled. Once three or five days pass without his meddling, we take him out and enjoy him at leisure. How is that?” The old monster and the second rejoiced together: “Yes, yes, yes—our brother talks sense.” And poor Tripitaka was carried in that very night, hidden in the chest, the pavilion shut; the story was put about, and all the city babbled it—no more of that.

Now the Pilgrim, at midnight, leaving the Tang monk to his fate, had escaped on his cloud. Straight to the Lion-Camel Cave he went, and with one sweep of his staff rooted out the ten thousand little demons to the last. Hurrying back, the sun rose in the east. At the city walls he dared not call for battle—and it is just as they say: a single thread makes no line; one palm cannot clap. He let his cloud down, shook himself into a little demon, and slipped in at the gate, working the streets and lanes for news. Through the whole city ran one story: the king had eaten the Tang monk half-cooked in the night. Before and behind, all said the same. The Pilgrim's heart burned. He came before the golden throne hall to look: within were many sprites wearing caps of tawny fur, yellow cloth robes, red-lacquered staves in their hands, ivory tags at their waists, pacing up and down without pause. The Pilgrim thought: “These must be the palace-going demons. I will take this very shape and go in and ask.”

Good Great Sage! He changed himself the very same, to a hair, and mingled in through the golden gates. As he went he saw Bajie bound to a pillar before the hall, groaning. He came up close and called: “Wuneng.” The Idiot knew the voice: “Brother, you have come—save me.” The Pilgrim said: “I will save you. Do you know where the master is?” Bajie said: “The master is gone; last night the demons ate him half-cooked.” At this the Pilgrim's tears burst out like a spring. Bajie said: “Do not weep, brother; I only heard the little demons babbling; I did not see it with my eyes. Do not be misled—go and ask again.” The Pilgrim dried his tears and hunted further in. Suddenly he saw Sha Monk bound to a pillar at the back; he came close, touched his breast, and called: “Wujing.” Sha Monk knew the voice too: “Brother, you have changed your way in—save me, save me.” The Pilgrim said: “Saving you is easy. Do you know where the master is?” Sha Monk, dropping tears: “Brother, the demons could not wait for the steamer; they ate the master half-cooked.”

The Great Sage heard the same tale from both, and his heart was churned as by a knife; his tears ran like water. He sprang up into the air—not stopping to save Bajie or Sha Monk—and back to the mountain east of the city, set his cloud down, and wept aloud, crying: “Master—

Cursed be I, who mocked heaven and fell into the net; my master came to save me from the deep sickness.With single heart and firm will we were to worship the Buddha together; with straining strength refine ourselves, and subdue demons side by side.Who thought today I would be stung by calamity, and could not guard you up the slope of this Saha world.The blessed land of the West is not to be reached by me—breath scattered, soul dissolved—what can be done?”

The Pilgrim, wretched and desolate, thought on and on, heart asking heart: “This is all our Tathagata's doing, sitting at ease in the Land of Bliss with nothing to occupy him, cooking up those scriptures of the Three Stores. If he truly meant to persuade men to goodness, he should have sent them east to our land—and would they not have rung down the ages? No: grudged to send them, he makes us come and fetch. Who knew that after toiling over a thousand mountains, today my life ends here? Enough, enough, enough. Let Old Sun take a somersault cloud and go see the Tathagata and tell him the whole of it. If he will send the scriptures east to our land for me, first it publishes the good work, and second it settles our wish; if he will not give them to me, let him say the Loose-Fillet Spell, take this fillet off my head; I give it back to him, and Old Sun returns to his own cave, to play the king and take his ease.”

Good Great Sage! He turned in the air, mounted the somersault cloud, and made straight for India; in less than a watch he saw Vulture Peak not far. In a moment he let the cloud down and came beneath the peak. Suddenly he looked up: the four great Vajras barred the way: “Where do you think you are going?” The Pilgrim saluted: “I have business with the Tathagata.” At the front the Ever-Dwelling Vajra, the Indestructible Honor King of Golden-Glow Ridge in the Kunlun Mountains, shouted: “How rough this ape is! When the Bull Demon had us hard pressed, we strove for your sake; today he comes face to face with us and shows not a shred of courtesy. If he has business, let it be presented first, and let him come only when summoned. This is not the South Heaven Gate, for you to come and go and wander as you please. Eh! Stand aside.” The Great Sage, already at his wits' end, took this rebuff too, and roared like thunder in his rage, shouting aloud—until the Tathagata was roused.

The Tathagata Buddha sat enthroned on the nine-grade lotus terrace, expounding the sutra with the eighteen arhats of the turning ages, and said: “Sun Wukong is come. Go out and receive him.” The arhats obeyed the Buddha's word, and with banners and canopies in two files came out the mountain gate, answering: “Great Sage Sun—the Tathagata summons you.” The four great Vajras at the gate stood aside and let the Pilgrim pass. The arhats led him below the jeweled lotus terrace; seeing the Tathagata, he bowed to the earth, two streams of tears falling. The Tathagata said: “Wukong, what matter brings such weeping?” The Pilgrim said: “Your disciple has again and again received the grace of your teaching and dwelt under the Buddha's shelter. Since I took the true refuge and guarded the Tang monk, my honored teacher, the hardships of the road are past telling. Now at Lion-Camel Mountain, at the Lion-Camel Cave and the Lion-Camel City, there are three poisonous demons—the lion king, the elephant king, and the great peng. They have carried off my master, and your disciple with all the rest has met disaster: bound and set in the steamer to taste the scourge of water and fire. Your disciple escaped by luck and called the Dragon King to save us. That night I stole the master and the others out—but the star of calamity would not be shaken off, and we were taken back. At daybreak I went into the city to ask, and the demons—vile past telling, brave in ten thousand ways—had eaten my master half-cooked in the night; bone and flesh are gone. And my brothers Wuneng and Wujing stand bound over there; soon their lives too will be spent. Your disciple, at his wit's end, has come expressly to bow before the Tathagata. I beg your great mercy: say the Loose-Fillet Spell, take this fillet from my head; I return it to you, and let your disciple go back to Flower-Fruit Mountain to take his idle pleasure.” Before the words were done, his tears gushed like a spring and his sobs did not cease. The Tathagata smiled: “Wukong, take less trouble. That demon's powers are vast; you could not beat him, and so your heart aches.” The Pilgrim knelt below, beating his breast: “I will not hide it from the Tathagata: when your disciple wrecked the Heavenly Palace and styled himself Great Sage, from the day I became a man I never once lost—till now I have fallen into this poisonous demon's hands.”

The Tathagata heard and said: “Do not hate him yet; I know that demon.” The Pilgrim cried out suddenly: “Tathagata, I have heard it said that demon is kin of yours.” The Tathagata said: “You crafty ape! How is a demon kin of mine?” The Pilgrim laughed: “If he were not kin, how would you know him?” The Tathagata said: “I see him with the eye of wisdom, and so I know him. The old monster and the second have their masters.” He called: “Ananda, Kasyapa—come! You two ride the clouds, in two directions, to Mount Wutai and Mount Emei, and summon Manjushri and Samantabhadra to come to me.” The two venerable ones went out on the Buddha's word. The Tathagata said: “Those are the masters of the old demon and the second. But as for the third demon—spoken of rightly, he too is somewhat akin to me.” The Pilgrim said: “Kin on the father's side, or the mother's?” The Tathagata said: “When chaos first divided, heaven opened at the hour of the rat, earth was parted at the hour of the ox, and man was born at the hour of the tiger. Heaven and earth joined again, and the ten thousand things were born. Of them all, some walk and some fly; of walkers the qilin is chief, of flyers the phoenix is chief. The phoenix, receiving again the breath of union, bore the peacock and the great peng. When the peacock was born she was cruelest: she ate men, and from forty-five li off she drew a man into her mouth at one breath. I had just refined my golden body of a zhang and six on the Snow Mountain's top when she sucked me down into her belly too. I thought to go out by the convenient way, but feared to foul my true body; so I cut through her back, mounted, and stepped onto Vulture Peak. I would have taken her life, but all the Buddhas pleaded: to wound the peacock were to wound my mother. So I kept her at the assembly on Vulture Peak and titled her the Buddha-Mother, the Peacock Great Luminous King Bodhisattva. The great peng was born of the same mother, and so there is some kinship.” The Pilgrim heard and laughed: “Tathagata, by that reckoning you are the demon's nephew.” The Tathagata said: “That monster—it must be I who go, or he cannot be taken.” The Pilgrim knocked his head and begged: “I pray you a thousand times, stir your jade steps and descend.”

The Tathagata came down from the lotus terrace and went out the mountain gate with all the Buddhas. There too came Ananda and Kasyapa leading Manjushri and Samantabhadra, and the two Bodhisattvas bowed before the Buddha. The Tathagata said: “Your beasts—how long have they been down the mountain?” Manjushri said: “Seven days.” The Tathagata said: “In the mountain, seven days; in the world, thousands of years. Who knows how many living souls they have destroyed there already? Come quickly and take them.” The two Bodhisattvas attended at his side, and with all the company they flew into the sky. Behold:

Through all the sky the blessed clouds part; my Buddha, in his mercy, descends by the Dharma gate.Openly he shows the reason of heaven's opening and the birth of things; in detail he tells the writing of earth's division and the changing body.Before him five hundred arhats; behind his head three thousand guardian spirits.Kasyapa and Ananda attend at his two sides; the Bodhisattvas Samantabhadra and Manjushri quell the demon miasma.

The Great Sage, having such friendship to draw on, had brought the Buddha and his company; before long they saw the city. The Pilgrim reported: “Tathagata, the city breathing black vapor is the Lion-Camel City.” The Tathagata said: “Go down first, into the city, and give the demons battle: you may lose, you may not win. Come up beaten, and I will take them myself.”

The Great Sage pressed his cloud down to the city wall, set his feet on the battlements, and cursed: “Brazen cattle! Come out and give battle to Old Sun!” The little demons on the tower jumped down in alarm to report: “Your Majesty, the Pilgrim Sun is shouting for battle on the wall.” The old demon said: “Two or three days the monkey did not come; today he shouts for battle. Can he have begged some rescuing host?” The third said: “What is there to fear? Let us all go see.” The three demon kings, weapons in hand, hurried up onto the wall, saw the Pilgrim, and without one word thrust their weapons at him all together; the Pilgrim swung the iron staff and met them. After seven or eight rounds the Pilgrim feigned defeat and ran. The demon kings' shout shook the sky: “Where now?” The Great Sage turned one somersault and leaped into mid-air; the three sprites mounted their clouds in chase. The Pilgrim dodged aside and hid in the golden glory of the Buddha, wholly unseen. And there were the three Buddha figures—of the past, the future, and the present—with five hundred arhats and three thousand guardian spirits spread on either hand, ringing the three demon kings so close that water could not leak through. The old demon's hands went weak with fright: “Brothers, it is bad—the monkey is truly an earth-burrowing goblin: where has he begged the master of the house to come?” The third said: “Elder brother, do not quake. Let us all rush in together, spear and blade, and strike down the Tathagata, and take his Thunderclap shrine for our own.” The wretch knew neither up nor down: blade raised, he truly rushed on slashing. But Manjushri and Samantabhadra murmured their true words and shouted: “Wicked beasts—will you not turn to the right, and what do you wait for?” The old monster and the second dared not hold; they dropped their weapons, rolled over, and showed their true forms. The two Bodhisattvas flung their lotus thrones across the monsters' backs and flew up to bestride them, and the two monsters flattened their ears and took refuge.

The two Bodhisattvas had taken the blue lion and the white elephant, but the third demon would not submit. He spread his wings, dropped the square-shaft halberd, and soared straight up, whirling his sharp claws to snatch the Monkey King. Now the Great Sage hid in the light—how dared he come near? The Tathagata knew his mind: he parted the golden light, gave that magpie-nest-crowned head one shake in the wind, and changed it into a piece of fresh red flesh. The demon swept his claws and snatched at it once. The Buddha pointed up with his hand: the sinews of the demon's wings knotted, and he could not fly; hovering above the Buddha's crown he could not flee far, and showed his true form: a great peng of golden wings. He opened his mouth and called to the Buddha: “Tathagata—what great power of yours is this, to bind me?” The Tathagata said: “In this place you have bred sin upon sin. Come with me, and there is merit and advancement in it.” The demon said: “You keep your fasts on herbs, poor and bitter to the last degree; here I eat men's flesh and live in endless pleasure. Starve me, and the sin is yours.” The Tathagata said: “I govern the four great continents; worshippers past number: whoever does a good work, I will have him offer first at your mouth.” The great peng could not break free, could not fly away; so, helpless, he too took refuge.

The Pilgrim then came out and knocked his head before the Tathagata: “Lord Buddha, you have taken the demons and rooted out the great evil—only my master is lost.” The great peng gnashed his teeth in hate: “Brazen monkey! To hunt out such a cruel one to bind me. When was your old monk ever eaten? Is he not this moment in the iron chest in the brocade pavilion?” The Pilgrim heard, and hastened to knock his head and thank the Buddha. The Buddha dared not let the great peng loose, but only set him on the rim of the light as a guardian of the Dharma, and led the company back on the clouds, straight to the jeweled shrine.

The Pilgrim let his cloud down and went straight into the city: not one little demon was left there. And it is just as they say: a snake without a head does not travel; a bird without wings does not fly. Seeing the Buddha take their demon kings, they had every one fled for his life. The Pilgrim freed Bajie and Sha Monk, found the baggage and the horse, and said to them: “The master was not eaten—come with me both of you.” Leading the two of them straight into the inner court, he found the brocade pavilion, pushed open the door, and looked: within stood an iron chest, and from it came the sound of the Tang monk weeping. Sha Monk struck the iron lock open with his demon-quelling staff, lifted the lid, and called: “Master.” Tripitaka saw them and wept aloud: “Disciples! How did you subdue the demons? How have you come here and found me?” The Pilgrim told the whole matter from beginning to end, in detail, and Tripitaka thanked him without end. In the palace the master and disciples found some rice and grain, made up tea and rice, ate their fill, packed, left the city, and took the great road west. And it is well said:

The true scriptures must be fetched by a true man; to storm and strain in the mind is all emptiness.

But on this journey onward, when they would see the Tathagata's face again, who could tell? Listen to the next chapter to find out.

The Crowd of Demons Deceive the True Nature; With One Body They Bow to the True Suchness

We say nothing now of the Tang elder in his distress. The three demon kings, with all their hearts and all their strength, contended mightily with the Great Sage and his two brothers within the mid-slope east of the city. It was a case of the iron brush scouring the bronze pot — both sides equally hard. A fine fight:

Six bodies, six weapons; six shapes, six tempers. Six evils and six roots, sprung from six desires; six gates and six ways wagering win and loss. In the thirty-six palaces spring walks free; six times six, the shapes of hatred have their names. This one, the gold-banded staff, with a thousand arts; that one, the square halberd, with a hundred fierce displays. Bajie's nail rake is fierce and keener still; the second demon's long spear is neat and strong. Little Sha Monk's precious staff is no common thing — with a will to kill; the old demon king's steel blade is swift and sharp — he lifts it without pity. These three are the guard of the true monk, generals without match; those three are law-breaking, king-betraying wild fiends. At first it was bearable; then ever fiercer. All six used the art of rising into the sky, tumbling and turning among the clouds. In a moment they belched fog and spewed cloud, and heaven and earth went dark; nothing was heard but roaring and howling.

The six fought a long while, and little by little the sky grew late; then wind and fog rolled in thick, and in a moment all was black. Now Bajie's ears are big, and they hung over his eyelids, darkening him the more; his hands and feet were slow, and he could not hold his guard. Dragging his rake, he lost the field and ran. The old demon raised his blade and hacked — it nearly cost his life. Happily he dodged with his head, but the blade sheared off several mane hairs; the demon caught him, opened his mouth, took him by the collar, carried him into the city, threw him to the little demons, and had him trussed in the golden throne hall. The old fiend mounted his cloud again into mid-air to help the fight. Sha Monk, seeing matters going ill, feinted with his precious staff, looked to himself, and turned to run. The second demon flung out his trunk; with a snap he wound him up, hands and all, carried him into the city, had the little demons truss him below the hall too, and rose again into the air to go take Pilgrim.

Pilgrim saw his two brothers taken; alone he could not hold out. Truly: "A good pair of fists is no match for four hands, and four hands cannot stand against eight." He shouted, barred the weapons of the three demons with his staff, vaulted onto his somersault cloud, and was gone. The third demon, seeing Pilgrim take his somersault, shook himself, showed his true form, spread his two wings, and gave chase to the Great Sage. And how could he overtake him? In the old days, when Pilgrim wrecked the Heavenly Palace, a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers could not take him, because he rides the somersault cloud — one turn is a hundred and eight thousand li — so no god could catch him. This fiend, at one flap of his wings, covers ninety thousand li; at two flaps he has passed him. So he seized him in one grip and held him in his claws, and left and right Pilgrim could not twist free. He wanted to flee, but there was no slipping away. He tried his arts of change and escape, and they would not serve: change big, and the fiend relaxed his hold and held him; change small, and the fiend clenched tight and held him. He carried him straight back inside the city, opened his grip, and dropped him in the dust, ordering the crowd of demons to truss him up in one place with Bajie and Sha Monk. The old demon and the second demon came down to meet them, and the three demon kings went up the great hall together. Ah! This time they were not so much trussing Pilgrim as seeing him off.

It was about the second watch. When the monsters had all met and greeted one another, they pushed the Tang monk down before the hall. By the lamplight the elder suddenly saw his three disciples all trussed on the ground; the old master threw himself down beside Pilgrim and wept: "Disciple, in troubles past you worked your magic outside and went somewhere to fetch rescue and subdue the demon; this time you too are taken — how shall your poor monk save his life?" Bajie and Sha Monk heard their master in such anguish, and they too broke out weeping aloud. Pilgrim smiled a little: "Master, set your mind at rest; brothers, do not weep. Come what may, there is surely no harm. When the old demon quiets down, we go on our way." Bajie said: "Brother, there go your tricks again. The hempen cord is tied so tight that a little loosening calls for water sprayed on it. A lean fellow like you may not feel it; a fat wretch like me is in a bad way. If you do not believe it, look — it is two inches into the flesh on both my arms. How am I to get free?" Pilgrim laughed: "Never mind hempen cord — if it were a palm-cable as thick as a bowl, it would pass over me like the autumn wind. What is there rare in that?"

As master and disciples talked, they heard the old demon say: "Worthy third brother has strength and wit; his clever plan has truly succeeded — the Tang monk is taken." He called: "Boys: five to fetch water, seven to scrub the pot, ten to tend the fire, twenty to bring out the iron steamer, and steam those four monks done for us brothers to eat; and let each of you have a piece too, that every one of you may live forever." Bajie heard, and trembled: "Brother, do you hear? The demon is planning to steam us and eat us." Pilgrim said: "Do not be afraid. Let me see whether he is a fledgling of a demon or a master of the trade." Sha Monk wept: "Brother, none of your brave talk. We are next door to King Yama now — what talk of 'fledgling' and 'master of the trade'?" As he spoke they heard the second demon say: "Zhu Bajie does not steam well." Bajie rejoiced: "Amitabha! Who is this pious soul that says I do not steam well?" The third demon said: "If he does not steam well, strip his skin and steam him." Bajie panicked and shouted: "Do not strip my skin! Coarse I may be, but once the water sings, I go soft." The old demon said: "The one that does not steam well, put on the bottom tier." Pilgrim laughed: "Bajie, do not be afraid — he is a fledgling, not a master of the trade." Sha Monk said: "How do you know?" Pilgrim said: "Whenever anything is steamed, it starts from the top. The thing that steams badly goes on the top tier, with a good hot fire, till the steam circles — and then it is done. If it goes on the bottom, once the steam fails, you might burn half a year and the steam would never rise. He says Bajie steams badly and puts him on the bottom — if that is not a fledgling, what is it?" Bajie said: "Brother, by your telling he is cooking me alive. If the steam will not rise at all, and they lift the steamer and turn me over and light the fire again, they will have me done on both sides and half-raw in the middle!"

While they talked, a little demon came to report: "The water boils." The old demon passed the word to carry them up. The demons set hands all together, lifted Bajie onto the bottom tier and Sha Monk onto the second. Pilgrim, judging they would come for him next, slipped free, saying: "Here by the lamplight is a good place to work." He plucked out one hair, blew on it a mouthful of magic breath, cried: "Change!" and made a false Pilgrim, trussed in hempen cord. His true spirit left the body, jumped into mid-air, and looked down. The demons, who knew no true from false, lifted whatever came to hand; the false Pilgrim they carried up to the third tier, and, throwing the Tang monk down and trussing him, they carried him to the fourth. Dry wood was heaped and lit; flame and heat rolled up. In the clouds the Great Sage sighed: "My Bajie and Sha Monk may hold out through two boilings; but my master — one boiling and he is done. If I do not use my art to save him, he is lost in a moment."

The good Pilgrim, in the air, pinched a sign and murmured the spell "Om, lan, pure is the realm of law; the origin is heaven, fruitful and right," and summoned the Dragon King of the Northern Sea, who came at once. A black cloud in the sky called out: "Ao Shun, little dragon of the Northern Sea, knocks his head." Pilgrim said: "Rise, rise. I would not trouble you without cause. I have come here with Master Tang, and a venomous demon has taken us and set us in the iron steamer. Go and shield us a little; do not let the steaming spoil us." The Dragon King at once changed himself into a blast of cold wind, blew in under the pot, and wheeled about it in guard, so that no heat of fire ever reached the pot, and the three of them lost no part of their lives.

When the third watch was nearly done, they heard the old demon give his orders: "Men, by our wits and our weariness we have taken the Tang monk and his three; and, wearied with the escorting, we have not slept for four days and nights. Now they are trussed in the steamer and cannot escape, surely. Keep good watch; set ten little demons to tend the fire in turns, and let us go back to our palaces and sleep a little. At the fifth watch, when the sky lightens, they will surely be done; have garlic paste, salt, and vinegar laid on, and call us to eat on empty stomachs." Each demon took the order, and the three demon kings went each to his own sleeping palace.

Pilgrim, in the clouds, heard all these orders plainly. He lowered his cloud and heard no voices from the steamer. He thought: "The fire's heat rises; it must be hot in there. How is it they are not afraid, and not a word or a groan? Can they be steamed dead? Let me come near and listen again." The good Great Sage stepped on his cloud, shook himself, changed into a black fly, stuck on the outside of the iron steamer, and listened: inside he heard Bajie say: "Bad luck, bad luck! I do not know whether we are steamed with the lid on or steamed with the lid off." Sha Monk said: "Second brother, what is 'with the lid on' and 'with the lid off'?" Bajie said: "Steamed with the lid on is with the steamer hooded; steamed with the lid off, not hooded." From the tier above the Tripitaka answered: "Disciple, it is not hooded." Bajie said: "Luck! We shall not die tonight; this is steamed with the lid off." Pilgrim heard all three talking, their lives unhurt, and flew over, and set the iron hood of the steamer gently down. The Tripitaka panicked: "Disciple, it is hooded now." Bajie said: "It is over. This is steamed with the lid on; tonight we die for certain." Sha Monk and the elder whimpered and wept. Bajie said: "Do not weep yet; just now the fire-tenders have changed shifts." Sha Monk said: "How do you know?" Bajie said: "When they first carried us up, it was just as I like it: I have a touch of the damp chills, and I wanted the steam to sweat me. Now the cold has come up instead. Ah! You fire-tending officers, what would it cost you to add some wood? Would it kill you?"

Pilgrim heard, and could not help laughing to himself: "This clod! Cold he can bear, but heat would cost his life. Two words more, and the wind would be out of the bag; I must save him quickly. But wait — to save him I must show my true form. And if I show it, those ten fire-tenders will see, and all shout together, and wake the old demon — more trouble again. Let me first send them a gift." He remembered: "When I was Great Sage, I played the finger game with the Heaven-Protecting King at the North Heaven Gate and won some drowsiness bugs from him. I still have a few; let him have them." He felt in the sash at his waist: twelve were left. "I will send him ten, and keep two for seed." He tossed the bugs out, scattered them on the faces of the ten little demons; they crawled into their nostrils, and little by little the demons nodded and all slept. Only one, who held the fire fork, slept uneasily, rubbing his head and face, pinching his nose this way and that, sneezing without stop. Pilgrim said: "This fellow knows his business. I will give him a two-flame lamp." He tossed another bug on his face. "Two bugs: one in at the left and out at the right, out at the right and in at the left — one of them is sure to settle him." The little demon gave two or three great yawns, stretched his waist, dropped the fire fork, and flopped asleep, never turning over again.

Pilgrim said: "This art is truly fine, and works as well." He showed his true form, came near, and called: "Master." The Tang monk heard: "Wukong, save me!" Sha Monk said: "Brother, are you calling from outside?" Pilgrim said: "If I were not outside, should I be in there suffering with you?" Bajie said: "Brother, the slippery one slipped away, and we are left holding the bag, stewing in a covered pot." Pilgrim laughed: "Idiot, do not shout; I have come to save you." Bajie said: "Brother, if you save us, save us at the root — do not put us back in the steamer." Pilgrim lifted the hood of the steamer, untied his master, shook out the false-made hair, and called it back to his body; then tier by tier he freed Sha Monk, and freed Bajie. The Idiot, once untied, would have bolted at once. Pilgrim said: "Not yet, not yet." He murmured a spell and dismissed the dragon god, and then said to Bajie: "On our way west there are high mountains and steep passes still. Without his mount, Master cannot travel; wait while I fetch the horse.

See him, light of hand and light of foot, go down to the golden throne hall: the demons big and small were all asleep. He undid the rein without a stir. The horse, being a dragon horse, at a stranger's touch would kick twice and neigh; but Pilgrim once kept horses and held the office of Bimawen, and the horse was one of his own kind, so it neither kicked nor neighed. He led it out quietly, tightened the girth, made all ready, and asked his master to mount. The elder mounted trembling, and would have set off. Pilgrim said: "Not yet, not so fast. There are kings on our road west, and we need our travel papers before we can pass; otherwise, what warrant have we? Let me go find the baggage." The Tang monk said: "I remember, when they brought us in, the monsters laid the baggage at the left of the golden hall; the carrying-pole was there too." Pilgrim said: "I know it." He slipped up onto the great hall to search, and suddenly saw a glow drifting — Pilgrim knew it for the baggage. How did he know? The brocade cassock of the Tang monk holds a night-bright pearl, and so it shone. He hurried to it, found the load still sealed as it was, took it up at once, and gave it to Sha Monk to carry.

Bajie led the horse, Pilgrim led the way, and they made straight for the Meridian Gate. Clappers and bells were clanging; on the gate was a lock, and on the lock a sealed strip. Pilgrim said: "Guarded like this — how do we get out?" Bajie said: "Let us try the back gate." Pilgrim led the way, straight to the back gate; but outside the Rear-Guard Gate too there was sound of clapper and bell, and seal and lock on the gate. "What now? If it were not that the Tang monk is a body of flesh, we three would somehow ride the cloud and wind away. Only the Tang monk is not yet beyond the Three Realms; he is still within the Five Elements, his whole body the rank bones of his father and mother — so he cannot ride, and cannot slip away." Bajie said: "Brother, no more talk. Let us go where there is no clapper or bell and no guard, and lift Master over the wall." Pilgrim laughed: "That will not do. Now, in our need, we might haul him over; but when we come back with the scriptures, this Idiot of ours, whose mouth leaks, would tell it left and right — that we are monks who got over wall-tops." Bajie said: "This once, never mind our good name; let us save our lives." Pilgrim, having no choice, gave in; they came to the bare stretch of wall and made ready to climb out.

Ah! But such things happen; the Tripitaka's ill star was not yet past. The three demon kings, asleep in the palace, started awake all at once with word that the Tang monk had fled. They threw on their clothes, rose in haste, hurried up the great hall, and asked: "How many boilings has the Tang monk had?" The fire-tending little demons had the sleep-demon in them and all slept; you might have beaten them and not waked one. A few of the rest, that had no duties, woke in a panic and answered blindly: "Se — se — se — seven boilings." They ran to the pot: the steamer racks lay tumbled on the ground, and the fire-tenders still slept. In a fright they came to report: "Great king, they are go — go — gone." The three demon kings came down from the hall and looked carefully by the pot: truly the steamer racks lay tumbled about, the water pot was stone cold, and no coals were burning; the fire-tenders snored like mud. The monsters raised a shout together: "Seize the Tang monk! Seize the Tang monk!" The shout roused the demons front and back, big and little; with blades and spears crowding, they came to the Meridian Gate: the seals and locks were untouched, the clappers and bells still going. They asked the night patrols outside: "Which way did the Tang monk go?" All said: "No one has gone out." They rushed round to the Rear-Guard Gate: seals, locks, clappers, bells — all as at the front. Back they swarmed with lanterns and torches, till the sky glowed red as day — and plainly they lit upon the four of them climbing the wall. The old demon came up close and roared: "Where are you going?" The elder's legs went weak and his sinews slack; he fell from the wall into the old demon's hands. The second demon caught Sha Monk; the third threw Bajie; the crowd of demons seized the baggage and the white horse. Only Pilgrim got away. Bajie, gulping and muttering, blamed Pilgrim: "You plague-struck wretch! I said, if you save us, save us at the root — and here we are, back in the cage for steaming."

The demons brought the Tang monk up to the hall, but there was no more talk of steaming. The second demon ordered Bajie bound to a pillar before the hall; the third ordered Sha Monk bound to a pillar behind the hall; only the old demon held the Tang monk fast and would not let him go. The third demon said: "Elder brother, why do you hold him so? Surely you do not mean to eat him alive? That would be no fun at all. This thing is not like the dull common folk you can take and make a meal of; he is a rarity from a great kingdom, and must wait for a dull, idle day, then be brought out and dressed with the utmost care, and eaten with finger games and drinking songs, to the sound of flutes." The old demon laughed: "Worthy brother, your word is right — but Pilgrim Sun will come thieving again." The third demon said: "Within this palace there is a pavilion of brocade fragrance, and in the pavilion an iron chest. Do as I say: hide the Tang monk in the chest and shut up the pavilion; then send out the word that the Tang monk has been eaten raw by us, and have the little demons spread it through the city. That Pilgrim is sure to come ferreting for news; if he hears that, he will go away with his heart dead and his feet set. When he has not troubled us for three or five days, we take him out and enjoy him at leisure. How is that?" The old demon and the second demon rejoiced greatly: "Yes, yes, yes; our brother's word is good." And poor the Tang monk was carried in that very night, hidden in the chest, and the pavilion shut; the rumor went out, and the whole city babbled of it — but no more of that.

Now Pilgrim, in the middle of the night, leaving the Tang monk to his fate, rode his cloud away and escaped. He went straight to Lion-Camel Cave, and with his staff along the way wiped out the whole ten thousand little demons. He hurried back; the sun rose in the east. At the city wall he did not dare call to battle — truly: "One thread alone makes no line; one palm alone claps no sound." He let down his cloud, shook himself, changed into a little demon, sauntered in the gate, and went up one street and down another, ferreting for news. Through the whole city the word ran: the great king has eaten the Tang monk raw in the night. Before and behind, all said the same. Pilgrim's heart burned with anxiety. He came to look before the golden throne hall: within were many sprites, all wearing skin-gold caps and yellow cloth gowns, red lacquered staves in their hands, ivory tags at their waists, going and coming, tramping without cease. Pilgrim thought: "These must be the palace-going demons; I will change into just this shape and go in and ask."

The good Great Sage changed himself just so, without one difference, and slipped in through the golden gate. As he went, he saw Bajie bound to a pillar before the hall, groaning. He came up and called: "Wuneng." The Idiot knew the voice: "Brother, you have come? Save me." Pilgrim said: "I will save you. Do you know where Master is?" Bajie said: "Master is gone; last night the demons ate him raw." Pilgrim heard, and tears burst from him like a spring. Bajie said: "Brother, do not weep; I only heard the little demons chattering — I never saw it with my eyes. Do not be mistaken; go and ask again." Pilgrim dried his tears and went farther in to search. He saw Sha Monk bound to a pillar behind the hall, came up, felt his chest, and called: "Wujing." Sha Monk too knew the voice: "Brother, you have changed your way in? Save me, save me." Pilgrim said: "Saving you is easy. Do you know where Master is?" Sha Monk dropped tears: "Brother, the demons could not wait for the steamer, and ate Master raw."

The Great Sage heard the two tell the same tale; his heart was like a knife twisting, and his tears ran like water. He sprang up into the air, and, for the time forgetting Bajie and Sha Monk, went back to the mountain east of the city, let down his cloud, and wept aloud, crying: "Master —

Blame me, who cheated heaven and fell into the net; my master came to save me from my deep sickness.With heart single and will set we were to worship Buddha together; with might and main to mend ourselves and tame our demons side by side.Who thought that today the sting should find me, and I could not guard you on your way to Paradise?To the blessed land of the West my fate will never bring me; my breath scatters, my soul fades — what is there to be done?"

Pilgrim, sad and desolate, turned it over in his own mind, asking his heart with his heart: "It is all because our Buddha the Tathagata sits in that land of bliss with nothing to do, and made those scriptures of the Tripitaka. If he truly wished to persuade men to goodness, he should have sent them to the Eastern Land himself — then they would be handed down ten thousand ages. But he grudged to carry them, and made us come and fetch them. Who knew we should toil through a thousand mountains, and lose our lives on reaching here? Enough, enough, enough! Old Sun will ride a somersault cloud and go see the Tathagata, and tell him the whole story. If he will send the scriptures to the Eastern Land for us — well and good: the good deed will be told abroad, and our wish is answered. If he will not give them, let him recite the Loosening-Fillet Spell and take this fillet off my head; I will hand it back to him, and old Sun will go back to his old cave, be a king, and take his pleasure."

The good Great Sage turned over in a flash, rode the somersault cloud, and made straight for India; in less than a double-hour he saw Vulture Peak not far off. In a moment he let down his cloud and came to the foot of the Vulture Peak. He raised his head and found the four great guardians barring the way: "Where are you going?" Pilgrim bowed: "I have business with the Tathagata." The foremost, the Undying Honored King of Gold-Glow Ridge on Mount Kunlun, roared: "This ape is very rude. When the Bull Demon King had you hard bested, we strove for you; and today, face to face, you show no courtesy at all. State your business and wait while it is announced; only when you are summoned may you go in. This place is not the South Heaven Gate, for you to wander in and out at both sides. Hey! Stand aside." The Great Sage, in the very middle of his sorrows, to be so mauled in talk — his rage roared like thunder, and he could not help shouting out, and so he startled the Tathagata within.

The Tathagata Buddha sat enthroned upon the jeweled lotus dais of nine degrees, expounding the scripture to the eighteen arhats who succeed age after age. He opened his mouth: "Sun Wukong has come; go out and receive him." The assembly of arhats took the Buddha's word, and with canopies and banners in two lines came out the mountain gate, calling: "Great Sage Sun, the Tathagata summons you." Then the four great guardians at the gate opened the way and let Pilgrim pass. The arhats led him below the jeweled lotus dais; he saw the Tathagata and threw himself down in worship, two streams of tears and bitter cries. The Tathagata said: "Wukong, what matter brings such weeping?" Pilgrim said: "Your disciple has again and again tasted your teaching's grace and shelters beneath the Buddha's gate. Since I turned to the true fruit and guard the Tang monk, my honored teacher, the road has been hardship past telling. Now at Lion-Camel Mountain, Lion-Camel Cave, and Lion-Camel City there are three venomous demons — the lion king, the elephant king, and the great Peng. They have taken my master, and your disciple with him met misfortune; we were all trussed and set in the steamer, to taste the disaster of boiling water and fire. Happily your disciple escaped and called the Dragon King to shield us. That night I stole my master and the rest out; but who knew the ill star could not be shaken — we were taken back again. At daybreak I went into the city to ask; but that demon is cruel past bearing and brave past counting: he ate my master raw in the night, and now bone and flesh are none left of him. And my brothers Wuneng and Wujing are bound over there; soon their lives too will be spent. Your disciple, at his wits' end, has come specially to worship the Tathagata. I beg your great mercy: recite the Loosening-Fillet Spell, take this fillet off my head, and take it back, and let your disciple go home to Mount Flower-Fruit, to idle and take his pleasure." Before he had done speaking, tears gushed like a spring and his cries went on without stop. The Tathagata laughed: "Wukong, do not fret so. That demon's magic is broad; you cannot beat him — so your heart aches like this." Pilgrim knelt below, beating his breast: "I will not hide it from the Tathagata: when your disciple wrecked the Heavenly Palace and was called Great Sage, from the day I was a man I never took a loss — and now I have fallen into this venomous demon's hands."

The Tathagata heard and said: "Do not hate him yet; that demon I know." Pilgrim burst out: "Tathagata, I have heard it said that the demon is kin to you." The Tathagata said: "You crafty ape — how is a demon kin to me?" Pilgrim laughed: "If he were not kin, how would you know him?" The Tathagata said: "My eye of wisdom looks on him; so I know him. The old fiend and the second fiend have their masters." He called: "Ananda, Kasyapa — come; you two ride the clouds apart, one to Mount Wutai and one to Mount Emei, and summon Manjusri and Samantabhadra to come to me." The two venerable ones took the word and went. The Tathagata said: "They are the masters of the old fiend and the second fiend. But as for the third fiend — when the tale is told, he too has a kind of kinship with me." Pilgrim said: "Kin on the father's side, or the mother's?" The Tathagata said: "When chaos first divided, heaven opened in the hour of the Rat and earth was split in the hour of the Ox, and man was born in the hour of the Tiger. Heaven and earth joined again, and the ten thousand things were born. Among them are beasts that run and birds that fly: of beasts the qilin is the chief, and of birds the phoenix is the chief. The phoenix, taking again the breath of joining, bore the peacock and the great Peng. When the peacock was born she was the cruelest of things: she could eat men, and forty-five li away she would draw a man into her mouth at one breath. On the top of the Snow Mountain, when I had refined my golden body six zhang tall, she drew me too into her belly. I would have gone out by the way of her hind parts, but feared to foul my true body; so I cut open her back and mounted to Vulture Peak. I would have taken her life, but all the Buddhas entreated me: to wound the peacock is to wound my mother. So I kept her at the assembly on Vulture Peak and titled her the Buddha-Mother, the Peacock Great Bright King Bodhisattva. The great Peng was born of the same mother, and so there is a kind of kinship." Pilgrim heard and laughed: "Tathagata, if you reckon it so, then you are the demon's own nephew." The Tathagata said: "That fiend I must go against myself, or he cannot be taken." Pilgrim knocked his head and prayed: "I beg you a thousand times to move your jade steps and come down."

The Tathagata came down from the lotus dais, and with all the Buddhas and the host went straight out the mountain gate. Ananda and Kasyapa were seen bringing Manjusri and Samantabhadra; the two Bodhisattvas bowed before the Buddha. The Tathagata said: "The beasts of you Bodhisattvas — how long have they been down the mountain?" Manjusri said: "Seven days." The Tathagata said: "In the mountain, seven days; in the world, some thousands of years. Who knows how many living souls they have destroyed there? Come quickly with me and take them." The two Bodhisattvas attended at his side, and with all the host they flew through the sky. And see:

Across the whole sky the blessed clouds divide and scatter; our Buddha, in his mercy, comes down by the gate of the law.He shows in the open the reason of heaven's opening and the birth of things; he tells in detail the writing of earth's splitting and the changing body.Before him five hundred arhats; behind him three thousand guardians of the truth.Kasyapa and Ananda attend at either side; Samantabhadra and Manjusri end the demon's poison-air.

The Great Sage, with such friendship at his call, had brought the Buddha and the host; and before long the city was in sight. Pilgrim reported: "Tathagata, where the black vapor rises — that is Lion-Camel City." The Tathagata said: "You go down first, into the city, and give the demons battle. You are allowed to lose, not to win. Lose and come up, and I will take him myself."

The Great Sage let down his cloud, came straight over the city, set his foot on the parapet, and cursed: "Brazen, wicked beast! Come out and fight old Sun!" The little demons on the city tower jumped down in a panic to report: "Great king, Pilgrim Sun is calling to battle on the wall." The old demon said: "This monkey has kept away two or three days, and now calls to battle — can he have fetched some rescuing host?" The third demon said: "What is there to fear? Let us all go and see." The three demon kings took up their weapons, hurried up onto the wall, saw Pilgrim, and without a word raised their weapons and stabbed at him all together; Pilgrim whirled the iron staff and met them hand to hand. They fought seven or eight rounds, and Pilgrim feigned defeat and ran. The demon king's shout shook the sky: "Where are you going?" The Great Sage turned one somersault and jumped into mid-air; the three fiends mounted their clouds and gave chase. Pilgrim flashed aside and hid in the golden light of the Buddha, wholly unseen. And there were the three Buddhas of past, future, and present, with five hundred arhats and three thousand guardians, spread out left and right, surrounding the three demon kings so that not a drop of water could leak through. The old demon's hands and feet went weak with fright, and he cried: "Brothers, it is bad! That monkey is truly an earth-burrowing devil — where did he fetch the master of the house?" The third demon said: "Elder brother, do not be afraid. Let us all go up together, spear and blade, and fell the Tathagata, and seize his jeweled Thunderclap Monastery." The wretch knew neither up nor down: truly he raised his blade and hacked his way forward. But Manjusri and Samantabhadra murmured their true words and cried: "Wicked beasts — will you not turn to the right, and what do you wait for?" The old fiend and the second fiend dared not hold out; they dropped their weapons, rolled over, and showed their true forms. The two Bodhisattvas cast their lotus daises on the monsters' backs, flew up and bestrided them, and the two fiends flattened their ears and took refuge.

The two Bodhisattvas having taken the blue lion and the white elephant, only the third demon would not submit. He spread his wings, dropped the square halberd, soared straight up on the wind, and whirled his keen claws to snatch the Monkey King. But the Great Sage was hidden in the light — how would he dare come near? The Tathagata, knowing his mind, let the golden light part, and the head crowned like a magpie's nest, shaken once in the wind, became a piece of flesh, red and fresh. The fiend whirled his keen claws and snatched at it once. The Buddha lifted his hand and pointed upward; and in the fiend's wing-joint the sinew was struck, so that he could not fly; on the very crown of the Buddha he was held, unable to flee far, and showed his true form — a great Peng, a golden-winged roc. He opened his mouth and called out to the Buddha: "Tathagata, why have you used such great magic power to trap me?" The Tathagata said: "Here you have bred evils without number. Come with me, and there is merit and gain for you." The fiend said: "With you it is fasts and greens, the poorest and bitterest life; here I eat men's flesh, and my ease is without end. If you starve me, the sin is yours." The Tathagata said: "I have charge of the four great continents, and countless living beings bow before me: whoever does a good work, I will have him offer first at your mouth." The great Peng could not break free and could not run away; so, having no choice, he took refuge.

Then Pilgrim came out and knocked his head to the Tathagata: "Lord Buddha, you have taken the demon today and rooted out a great evil — only my master is lost." The great Peng ground his teeth in hate: "That brazen ape! To hunt out such a fierce one to trap me. Your old monk — when was he ever eaten? Is he not now in the iron chest in the Pavilion of Brocade Fragrance?" Pilgrim heard, and hurried to knock his head and thank the Buddha. The Buddha dared not let the great Peng loose, but only set him on the rim of the light as a guardian of the law, and led the host back on the clouds, straight to the jeweled monastery.

Pilgrim let down his cloud and went straight into the city: there was not one little demon left in it. Truly: "The snake without a head cannot go, and the bird without a wing cannot fly." They saw the Buddha take their demon kings, and every one fled for his life. Pilgrim then freed Bajie and Sha Monk, found the baggage and the horses, and told the two: "Master was not eaten; follow me." He led them straight into the inner court, found the Pavilion of Brocade Fragrance, opened the door and looked: within was an iron chest, and from it came the sound of the Tripitaka weeping. Sha Monk struck the iron lock open with his subduing staff, lifted the chest lid, and called: "Master." The Tripitaka saw him and wept aloud: "Disciples, how did you ever subdue the demons? How have you found your way here to me?" Pilgrim told him the whole matter from beginning to end, in detail, and the Tripitaka thanked them without end. In the palace master and disciples found some rice and grain, made tea and a meal, ate their fill, packed up, went out the city, and took the great road west. Truly:

The true scriptures must be sought by a true man; crying out and wearing the heart — all of it is empty.

As they go on from here, when they will see the Tathagata's face again, who can say? Listen to the next chapter to find out.