This is a fresh, complete English translation of Wu Cheng’en’s public-domain one-hundred-chapter novel, produced with GPT-5.3-Codex-Spark assistance. It is an AI-assisted first edition, not a reproduction of an existing translation.

The poem says:

Errant thoughts cannot be forcefully extinguished; how could one seek the truth at all? By nature one's Buddha-nature was cultivated before all else; what place has delusion or awakening in before and after? Enlightenment at once becomes upright truth; in delusion one drifts through ten thousand kalpas. If in one thought one joins true cultivation, all sins and stains, countless as age after age of sand, are swept away.

As for Zhu Bajie, Sha Wujing, and the monster, they fought for thirty exchanges, with no winner. You ask why there was no winner? If the matter were one of mere skill, do not say two monks only—twenty monks could still not match that demon. It is because Tripitaka's life is not meant to end, for Dharma-protecting gods quietly guard him; in the air also are the Liuding Liujia, the Wufang Jiedi, the Sizhi Gongcao, and eighteen Hujiao Jialan aiding Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing.

Now we do not speak further of the three-way combat. Yet in the cave the Elder was crying in sorrow, thinking of his disciples, and through tears he said, 'Zhu Bajie, where have you gone in that village to meet good companions and grow fond of alms food? Sha Wujing, you still do not know where to look for him, might you not find him? Who could know that I, meeting a demon, am suffering here? When may I meet you both, escape this great disaster, and quickly reach Mount Ling.' At that moment of grief and distress, a woman came out of the cave, leaning on a dinghun post, and called, 'Elder, where did you come from, and why is he binding you here?' Tripitaka, seeing her, peered through tears and noticed she seemed about thirty years old. He replied, 'Lady Bodhisattva, ask nothing. I am already one doomed to die. I came by chance through your gate; if you wish to eat me, then eat me. Why ask so much?' She said, 'I do not eat men. My house is over three hundred li to the southwest of here; there is a city called Baoxiang Kingdom. I am the third princess of that king, my childhood name Baihuaxiu. Thirteen years ago on the fifteenth night of the eighth month, while I was playing under the moon, this demon swept me up in a whirlwind. I was made his wife for thirteen years, bore children here, and have had no word from home. Thinking of my parents, I cannot see them. Where do you come from, and how were you seized by him?' Tripitaka said, 'I am but a poor monk on the mission to journey west for the sutras. By chance I strayed here. Now he means to seize my two disciples and steam-cook all of us.' The princess smiled and said, 'Elder, calm your heart. Since you are on the westward pilgrimage, I will save you. Baoxiang Kingdom lies on your route to the west. Write a letter for me and I will send it to my parents; then he will spare you.' Tripitaka nodded: 'Lady Bodhisattva, if you can still save this poor monk's life, I will be the one to bear your letter.'

The princess hurried back, immediately wrote a letter, sealed it well, then came to the post, released Tripitaka, and gave him the letter. Freed, Tripitaka held it and said, 'Lady Bodhisattva, my thanks for saving my life. Once I go, by the grace of this place I shall surely send it to the king. Only I fear that with age and time, your parents may refuse to recognize you and me. Do not fault my poor monk for speaking falsely.' She said, 'Do not worry. My father has no sons, only three daughters. If he sees this letter, he will surely welcome you.' Tripitaka tucked the letter tight in his sleeve, thanked her, and moved to leave. She pulled him back: 'You cannot go out through the front gate. All those small and great demons are outside, waving banners and calling, beating drums and gongs, helping the King against your disciples. Go out by the rear gate. If the King catches you, he may still question and question, but I fear the little imps might seize you and, caring not who you are, hurt you after taking the children. Let me go before him and speak some words. If the King releases you, your disciples should make the proper request and then find you, so you can all leave well together.' Hearing this, Tripitaka knelt and obeyed. He bade farewell to the princess and left by the rear gate, and, trembling, hid his body among the thorn thickets.

Now the princess, moved by a clever plan, hurried forward, went out, and split the crowds of demons. Then one heard the clatter of blades. It was Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing still fighting the monster in midair. The princess cried out sharply, 'Huangpao lang!' The demon king heard her call, dropped Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, pulled up the steel blade, and faced the princess: 'My dear wife, what is it?' She said, 'Husband, I was asleep in the bridal curtains and in my dream-soul suddenly saw a golden-armored divine man.' The demon said, 'What golden-armored spirit would dare enter my gate?' She answered, 'When I was young in the palace, in secret I made a vow: if I could one day choose a worthy husband, we would go to high peaks, visit the Immortal court, and offer food to monks. Since we have been married I have never raised this with him. That golden-armored divine man came to demand the vow, woke me with a shout, and it was a dream of one night. So I came dressed at once to tell you, and now this vow has bound a monk as well. I beg you, have mercy on my poor wish; spare that monk as my way of repaying this vow to feed a monk. Will you agree?' The monster said, 'My dear wife, you are overthinking this. How urgent could it be? I only eat men; where is there one I will not take? Why keep that monk? Let him go.' The princess said, 'Husband, send him out through the rear gate.' The demon answered, 'Fine, let him go, and what matter if it be the back gate or the front gate?' Then, swinging the steel blade, he shouted, 'Pig Zhu Bajie, come here. I am not afraid of you, so I will not fight. Since I have heard my wife's plea, I will spare your master. Go quickly to the rear gate and find him, then go west. If you trespass my domain again, I will never show mercy.'

When Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing heard these words, they seemed like doors of the ghost gate flung open and were sent rushing back. They hurried, lifting the pack mule and moving off. After circling behind the back gate of the Boyue Cave, Zhu Bajie called out, 'Master.' Tripitaka recognized the voice and answered from the thornbush. Sha Wujing cut open the path through the grass, helped Master Tripitaka up, and they quickly mounted. Here:

Savage and treacherous, I nearly fell to the blue-faced ghost, yet by Baihuaxiu's kindness there was escape. The ao-fish slipped free of the gold-hooked fishing line, and, wagging its tail, chased the waves and played.

At the front, Zhu Bajie led the way and Sha Wujing followed as they emerged from the pines and took the great road. See them now, chattering and grumbling to no end, while Tripitaka alone kept trying to reason with them. At dusk they found lodging; at rooster-crow they set out at dawn. Stage by stage and station by station, without noticing they had already walked two hundred ninety-nine li. Upturned, they saw a fine city before them: it was Baoxiang Kingdom.

The clouds are hazy and far, the road stretches long. Though the land lies a thousand li distant, the scenery everywhere is resplendent. Auspicious haze and blessed smoke envelop it; clear wind and bright moon sway in grace. Jagged hills rise in the far distance, opening like a painted scroll. Rushing streams murmur and ripple, breaking like scattered jade pearls. What can be tilled lies in ordered ridges and lanes, with enough fresh shoots for ample grain. In three-bended streams are few homes of fishing and casting lines; in the hills, bearers and foragers move with bundles on their shoulders. Broad and broad are the suburbs, and the city is secure with moats of gold and steadfast walls; house after house, gate after gate lives in ease. Nine-tiered lofty pavilions rise like palace halls, and ten-thousand-foot terraces shine like banners of brocade. There are the Taiji Hall, Huagai Hall, Burnt-Incense Hall, Guanwen Hall, Xuanzheng Hall, and Yanying Hall; every hall has jade steps and golden stairways, with scholar caps and warrior helmets set in rank. There is also the Great Bright Palace, Zhao Yang Palace, Changle Palace, Huaqing Palace, Jianzang Palace, and Weiyang Palace, and in each palace, bells, drums, flutes, and reed pipes wash away the hidden spring sorrows of court women. There are also blossoms in the imperial garden, tender-faced and pearly with dew, and wind-bending willow branches dancing with slim waists along the sovereign canal. On broad avenues one sees men in tall caps and knotted belts, in splendid state, riding teams of five horses; in secluded lanes one sees archers with bow and arrows parting the mist and piercing twin hawks. Streets of flowers and willows, towers of pipes and zithers; the spring wind gives no quarter even to Luo Yang Bridge. The monk Tripitaka, thinking of Great Tang, felt his heart and courage tear; the disciples at his side, with their shoulders eased, let the dreams of roadside inns fade.

They could not exhaust the sights of Baoxiang Kingdom. The three disciples and Tripitaka gathered their luggage and horses and settled in a rest house at the inn-inn.

Tripitaka walked to the outer gate on foot and said to the gate chamber attendant, “A monk from Tang has come, specially to pay homage and to exchange credentials; I beg that the message be forwarded to the throne.” The court usher of the yellow gate hurried to the white-jade steps and reported, “Your Majesty, a great monk from the Great Tang seeks audience and wishes to exchange credentials.” Hearing that the visitor came from the major Tang state and was introduced as a holy monk of the upper kingdoms, the king rejoiced and immediately approved, saying, “Summon him in.” Tripitaka was brought to the golden steps, where he completed the dance of obeisance and ritual bows. Civil and military ministers on both sides all sighed, “People from the upper land are this courteous and ceremonious.” The king asked, “Elder, why have you come to my realm?” Tripitaka replied, “I, Tripitaka, am a monk of the Great Tang. I carry my Son of Heaven’s decree and am traveling west to fetch scriptures. I hold official credentials; at your august court they should be exchanged. In my haste, not knowing proper approach and departure, I startled Your Majesty.” The king said, “Since you have an edict from the Tang emperor, bring it here to read.” Tripitaka held it up with both hands, opened it, and set it upon the imperial desk. The document read:

In the name of the Great Tang of the Southern Ocean-Continent, issued by the Tang Son of Heaven under Heaven’s mandate: We, who govern with cool virtue and inherit the great foundation, do divine work and care for the people, treading humbly and closely, and are watchful by morning and dusk. Formerly, when the old dragon of the Jing River escaped rescue under my rule, he was reproved by my august sovereign; his three souls and seven spirits in an instant were sent below, and he became one doomed to impermanence. Because his vital life was not yet exhausted, the Lord of the Netherworld released him back to life, that he might spread teachings of merit and build a way to deliver the dead. Benefiting from this, the Bodhisattva Guanyin appeared in golden form and showed him the way: in the West there is Buddha and scripture, where lost souls may be led across and freed from loneliness. Therefore Master Tripitaka is specifically dispatched to travel across a thousand mountains and seek teachings and verses. If he reaches any country in the Western Regions, do not break the bonds of goodwill; by this document, allow him to pass. The holder of this document should present it accordingly. In the thirteenth year of Zhenguan, an auspicious day in autumn, before the Son of Heaven. (Nine gold seals above.)

The king, on seeing it, took a jade treasure of his realm, impressed it with the floral seal, and handed it to Tripitaka.

Tripitaka thanked the ruler and put the credential away, then declared: “I, this poor monk, came not only to exchange credentials, but also because I carry a private letter for Your Majesty.” The king rejoiced and asked, “What letter is it?” Tripitaka said, “His Majesty’s Third Princess was taken by the Yellow-Robed demon from the Moon-Wave Cave on Wanzi Mountain. By chance I met them once, so I have brought this letter.” When the king heard this, tears streamed from his eyes at once: “Since my Third Princess disappeared thirteen years ago, both civilian and military offices have never known how many have been dismissed and demoted; inside and outside the palace, even maidens and eunuchs do not know how many were beaten to death. They only said she left the palace, lost her way on the road, and no one can find her. The households of this whole city have been questioned countless times, yet there is still no trace. How was it that we did not know a demon had carried her off? On hearing this, my grief is broken.” Tripitaka drew the letter from his sleeve and presented it. The king took it and, seeing the two characters “Safe” and “Sound,” his hands trembled and he could not tear it open. He ordered, “Let the Grand Academician of the Hanlin Institute be summoned to the hall to read.” The senior scholar came at once. Civil and military officers stood before the hall; behind were queens, consorts, and palace women, all listening closely. The scholar opened it and recited:

I, Baihua Shou, an unfilial daughter, kneel, prostrate, and offer repeated salutes to His Father-King, to the Dragon-and-Phœnix Hall, to the three palaces and Mother Empress of the Zhaoyang Palace, and to all ministers and worthy officials present before the court: your poor daughter was once entrusted to the Kun Palace and is deeply grateful for your many kindnesses and pains. I have never been able to keep a smiling face and a serene heart, nor serve filial duty with all my heart. On the night of the fifteenth day of the eighth month, thirteen years ago, at an excellent hour your favor commanded that all palaces hold a banquet to play in moonlight and share the grand gathering beneath the clear sky. In the middle of such joy, a gust of fragrance suddenly arose, and a demon king with golden eyes, blue face, and green hair flashed forth, seized the lady, rode in radiant light, and carried me straight to a wild mountain place with no one; I could not distinguish or resist, and by his forceful coercion I was taken as his wife. Thus by helplessness I endured thirteen years, and bore two demon children, all of demon-blood. Truly this ruins human relations, harms moral order, and is unfit to put in writing and stain the throne, but I feared that if the daughter were to die, matters would never be made clear. While full of grievance and remembrance of my parents, I never expected that the holy monk of Tang would also be seized by the demon king. The daughter writes through tears, composes a letter, escapes with boldness, and entrusts this sheet of paper to you to show a true heart. If Your Father-King will have compassion, send a top general quickly to Wanzi Mountain’s Moon-Wave Cave to seize the Yellow-Robed demon, rescue your daughter, and bring her back to court. Our endless thanks for your kindness. Crude and hastily written, this missive is not in a proper form. This wayward daughter, Baihua Shou, again kneels and salutes a hundred times.

After the scholar had finished reading the family letter, the king wept for a long time. The three palace ladies wept, and the civil and military officers grieved; from before and after, all alike were full of sorrowful remembrance.

The king wept long, then asked both groups of officials: “Which general dares to take command and lead troops to capture the demon and save my Baihua Princess?” He asked several times, and no one dared answer. Truly they were commanders carved of wood and civil officials molded of clay. The king grew distressed, his tears surging like springs. Then all the officials came kneeling and said together, “Your Majesty, do not trouble yourself. The princess has been missing for thirteen years with no word. It is only chance that the monk from Tang has come with this letter. We all are but ordinary men and horses, trained in martial texts and techniques, fit only to set formations and camp defenses so that the country may not be invaded.

Such a demon spirit appears and vanishes like cloud and mist; we cannot meet it face to face. How could we campaign against it? As for this pilgrimage eastward for the scriptures, it is an eminent monk from the upper kingdom. This monk has wisdom so high that dragons and tigers submit, virtue so honored that ghosts and spirits revere him; he must have methods to subdue demons. As the ancients said: ‘One who comes to settle right and wrong is himself part of the wrongdoing.’ So please ask this elder to suppress the demon and rescue the princess; that may be the safest remedy.”

The king heard and quickly turned back, asking Tripitaka: “Elder, if you have any means, unleash your Dharma power, seize the demon, and bring my daughter back to court. Then you need not go west to worship Buddha. Leave your head hair as it is; I will make you my brother and we can share the Dragon Bed and prosperity together—how would you like that?” Tripitaka rushed to explain, “This poor monk only knows how to recite Buddha’s name. In truth, I do not know how to suppress demons.” The king asked, “If you cannot suppress demons, how dare you dare to go west to Buddha?” The monk did not conceal it and spoke of his two disciples. “Your Majesty, this monk alone can barely arrive here. I do have two disciples who are skilled at opening roads through mountains and piling bridges over waters, and they can protect me to this place.” The king replied in surprise, “You are a monk with no reason at all: if you truly have disciples, why did you not bring one with you at once to pay homage? If they come to court, even if no special gifts are bestowed, they would surely receive fitting alms food.” Tripitaka said, “Those disciples of mine are ugly and do not dare to enter court, fearing only that they might wound Your Majesty’s Dragon Body.” The king laughed, “By the way you speak, do you think I fear him?” Tripitaka said, “I dare not. My elder disciple surnamed Zhu is called Wuneng, named Bajie. He was born with a long muzzle and protruding tusks, bristling mane, coarse beard, broad thick body, large belly, and wind rises where he walks. My second disciple is surnamed Sha, Dharma name Wujing, monk. He is two zhang and two chi tall, with arms wide as three ting; face dark indigo, mouth like a blood basin, eyes flashing, teeth set like nails. He has this kind of appearance, so I dared not let him enter on his own.” The king said, “You have now explained them once to the end. How could I fear him?” and ordered, “Summon him in at once.”

When Zhu Bajie heard the summons came, he said to Sha Wujing, “Brother, you still have not shown us the use of this recommendation. Now we can see its benefit. Since Master has sent this letter, the king has said the messenger cannot be delayed; he surely prepared a proper feast to receive him. Since his stomach may not bear waiting, I say, give your name and so the golden summons was sent. Let’s all have one meal together and then set out tomorrow.” Sha Wujing said, “Brother, I know the reason why; come, let us go.” He handed baggage and mounts to the post-master, and each took his own weapon, then entered with the gold summons. They arrived early at the white-jade steps and took their stations on either side, knelt and made a bow upward toward the throne, then stood motionless. No official dared move. All the civil and military men said, “These two monks may be ugly, but their roughness is beyond the usual. How is it that when they saw our king they failed to bow and prostrate, and after only a nod they stand upright and tall? Strange, strange.” Zhu Bajie heard this and said, “Everyone, do not comment. We are as we are: at first glance one may think there is ugliness, but after a little while you can look steadily.”

The king, seeing their ugliness, was already frightened. Upon hearing Zhu Bajie speak, the fear grew so much that he could not sit steady and fell from the Dragon Bed. A nearby official caught him in time. Then Tripitaka, in panic, knelt before the hall and repeatedly prostrated: “Your Majesty, this poor monk deserves to die a hundred-thousand times. I told you my disciples were ugly and dared not approach, fearing to harm your Dragon form; indeed I have truly startled Your Majesty.” The king, trembling, came near and helped him up: “Elder, it is fortunate you told me first. Had you not, on seeing him suddenly I would surely have been frightened to death.” After settling himself, he asked, “Which of the two elders, Pig-Elder or Sand-Elder, can subdue demons most?” The fool answered without understanding, “The old pig can subdue them.” The king asked, “How do you subdue?” Bajie said, “I am General Tianpeng. By my offense against Heaven’s law I fell to this world, and by fortune I now return to correctness as a monk. Since arriving from the Eastern Land, it was I who first subdued a demon.” The king said, “If you are truly a heavenly general descended to mortals, you must be good at transformations.” Bajie said, “No, no. I can only manage a few transformations in passing.” The king said, “Try one for me, then.” Bajie said, “Give me a form to copy. Then I can transform accordingly.” The king said, “Make something large.”

Zhu Bajie also had thirty-six forms of transformation, and he displayed his arts before the steps. Then, pinching a secret knot and chanting a spell, he cried out, “Grow!” and bent at the waist; at once he lengthened to eight or nine zhang, looking like a god who opens the road for all. The two groups of civil and military officials nearby trembled in fright, and king and ministers alike stood in dazed, shaking confusion. Then the guard general of the hall asked, “Reverend Elder, with such a change of size, where will it finally stop growing?” The Fool spoke again in his blunt fashion: “Watch the wind. The east wind is still passable, and the west wind will do as well. If the south wind rises, it can even arch a great hole through the blue sky.” The king, greatly startled, said, “Enough, cease your powers. I now understand this sort of transformation.” Zhu Bajie crouched again and once more became as he was, standing before the steps.

The king asked again, “Reverend Elder, what weapon will you take to fight him on this journey?” Zhu Bajie drew out the pa from his waist and said, “What the old pig uses is a nail-guarded pa.” The king laughed, “That will disgrace the court’s face. I have whips, jian, gua, clubs, cudgels, blades, spears, yue, axes, swords, halberds, lances, and sickles—take one that suits your hand. What kind of weapon is that pa anyway?” Bajie said, “Your Majesty does not know. Though my pa is crude and hefty, it is truly the weapon I have carried since boyhood. It was once in the Water Office of the Heavenly River where I served as a commander, overseeing eighty thousand water troops; all relied on this pa for its strength. Now, descending to the mortal world to protect my master, when I came upon mountain lairs I shattered tiger and wolf dens, and when I entered waters I overturned dragon and clam-shell caves; all by this pa.

Hearing this, the king was very pleased and believed him all the more. He ordered nine palace ladies, “Bring a full bottle of my own court wine, and give it to the elder for parting.” He filled a cup to the brim and presented it to Zhu Bajie: “Venerable Elder, this wine is a small sign of our thanks. When you have captured the demon and rescued the little princess, there shall be a great feast in recompense, with silver upon silver as reward.” The Fool took the cup in hand. Though rough of feature, his manners were unexpectedly refined; he made a deep bow to Tripitaka and said, “Master, this wine should be drunk by you first. But since Your Majesty has bestowed it on me, I dare not disobey. Let the old pig drink it first and stir himself up a little, so he can catch the demon.” He drank it dry in one gulp, then only then poured a cup and handed it to the master. Tripitaka said, “I do not drink wine; let your brothers take it.” Sha Wujing stepped forward and received it. Zhu Bajie raised cloud beneath his feet and shot straight into the sky. The king saw this and asked, “The Pig Elder can also fly on clouds again?”

After the Fool left, Sha Wujing also drank the wine dry in one draught, saying, “Master, when the yellow-robed demon seized you, the two of us fought with him, and it was only a fight of near equal. Now Elder Two goes alone; I fear he may not be able to defeat him.” Tripitaka said, “That is so, disciple. Go and lend him your aid.” Hearing this, Sha Wujing also rose on clouds and leapt off. The king panicked and caught hold of Tang Seng, saying, “Reverend Elder, stay and sit with me awhile; do not rise on clouds and leave.” Tripitaka answered, “Alas, alas. I cannot take even half a step.” For now the two talked in the hall, and we need not describe it further.

He said that Sha Wujing arrived and reached Zhu Bajie: “Brother, I have come.” Zhu Bajie said, “Brother, why have you come?” Sha Wujing said, “Master sent me to give him a hand.” Zhu Bajie rejoiced, “Well said. You came at just the right time. If the two of us join our efforts and strike together, even if little else, our names will resound through this kingdom.” See him:

Lofty, auspicious radiance departed the bounds of the realm, and rosy sacred vapour rose from the capital city. Receiving the king’s command, we come to the mountain cave; let us work as one to seize the errant spirit.

The two arrived at the cave mouth in little time, then set down their cloud steeds. Zhu Bajie drew forth the pa and with all his strength struck at the door of Wave-Moon Cave, making a hole as large as a dou in the stone gate. The little demon who kept the door, frightened, opened it. Seeing the two of them, it ran in and reported, “My lord, it is not good! The long-nosed, big-eared monk and the dark-faced monk have come and broken open our gate again.” The demon exclaimed in alarm, “These are still Zhu Bajie and Sha Monk. I spared their master before—how dare they come back to batter my gate?” The minor fiend said, “Perhaps they forgot some object and have come back for it.” The old demon snapped, “Wretched chatterbox! To forget an object and yet dare to strike my gate? There must be cause.” He hurriedly fixed his robes, drew his steel sword, and came out to ask, “Monks, I spared your master before. Why do you come to my gate and fight again?” Zhu Bajie said, “You scoundrelous rogue did just the right kind of work.” The old demon said, “What work?” Zhu Bajie said, “You enticed the Third Princess of the Baoxiang Kingdom into the cave and, relying on force, kept her as wife for thirteen years. It should be restored to her family. I have come under the king’s command expressly to take you. Go in at once and tie up your own ropes and come out; then the old pig need not take action.” Hearing this, the old monster grew violently angry. See how he rose and bristled, his steel teeth gnashing; his eyes rolled in circles, wide as hoops; his broad chest thrust forward, he raised his blade; red and slick, he swung his blade at once. Zhu Bajie sidestepped and dodged the strike, then with the spiked pa he met him head-on; immediately Sha Wujing rushed up with the Precious Staff and the three struck together. This bout on the hillside was no ordinary gambling of blows; it truly was:

A misplaced word and errant reply vex men to the core; poisoned intent and wounded feeling breed anger. The demon king, with a great steel blade, hacks at once; Bajie’s nine-fanged pa comes to meet him full in the front. Sha Wujing throws the Precious Staff aside; the demon king blocks with numinous arms of war. One fierce demon and one monk deity trade blows endlessly, back and forth without settling. This one cries, “You deceived the kingdom and now deserve the death penalty.” That one cries, “You report trifles as wrongdoings.” This one cries, “You forced marriage on the princess and harmed state order.” That one cries, “Do not interfere in what is none of your affair.” In the end it is only this: because they traded accusations, monk and demon found no peace.

The two wrestled on that hillside for eight or nine rounds. Gradually Zhu Bajie began to fare no better; the spiked pa grew hard to raise, his strength not increasing. How could he not lose so? At first in the battle, there were protecting gods hidden there for Tripitaka in the cave, so they secretly aided Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing; therefore it was only a hand-to-hand balance. Now all those gods are in the Baoxiang Kingdom, holding Tripitaka in safety. Therefore the two cannot withstand the fight.

The Fool said, “Sha Wujing, you stay and grapple with him; let the old pig come out to finish this.” Forgetting Sha Wujing, he shot in a single rush into the thicket of mugwort, ivy, thorny bramble, and trailing vines, with no care for better or worse, and plunged in at once. He was scratched from the headskin and cut on mouth and face, rolled and fell down in a blur, and dared not come out again. He left only half an ear out, still listening to the clanging sound.

The monster, seeing that Zhu Bajie had gone, rushed toward Sha Wujing. Sha Wujing, unprepared, was caught by the monster in one hand and dragged into the cave. A little demon bound Sha Wujing up, winding him tight and tying his four limbs together like a horse with all four hooves bound.

In the end, one cannot yet know what would become of their lives. Listen and see in the next chapter.