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.

Now it was told that Tripitaka recovered Sun Wukong again; master and disciples, one in heart and one in body, set out together toward the West. After rescuing the princess of the Kingdom of Bao Xiang, and being escorted out westward from the city by king and ministers, their hungry eating, thirsty drinking, sleeping by night and traveling by dawn along the road are beyond telling. Yet they once again arrived in the season of early spring, at this time:

The light breeze made the willows green like silk, and such fair scenery was fit for inscription. Birds called out to the hour of spring; warm moisture coaxed flowers open, and fragrant blossoms spread everywhere. In the begonia courtyards came the paired swallows; this was just the season for spring-gazing. On red-dust roads and violet lanes, brocade, string and flute, and meadow games of passing cups in turn.

While master and disciples were walking while enjoying the spring, they came upon a mountain that blocked the way. Tripitaka said, "Disciples, be careful. Ahead is a high mountain, and perhaps tigers or wolves will block our path." Sun Wukong said, "Master, monks should not talk like householders. Do you remember what monk Wuchao said in his Heart Sūtra: 'Where the mind has no obstructions, no obstructions, then no fear; far from deluded dreams.' He also said, 'Clear the grime from the heart, wash away the dust at the ear. One who does not suffer the sufferings within suffering is not fit to be foremost among men.' Do not worry. So long as old Sun is with you, if Heaven itself were to collapse we could still be safe—why fear tigers and wolves?" Master pulled back the reins and said, "I

In former days I was ordered from Chang’an and remember only coming west to pay homage to the Buddha’s face. In the Kingdom of Sheli, golden images shone in color; in the stupa tower gleamed flecks of jade. I sought across all under Heaven for nameless waters, crossed the whole mortal world, yet never reached the mountains. Layer upon layer of mist and waves overlap; when will this body ever come to rest?" When Sun Wukong heard this, he laughed cheerfully, "Master wants to be at ease. What is difficult? If one’s works are complete, all bonds cease and all dharmas are empty. Then it is natural that there is ease of body, is it not?" Hearing these words, Master at last only laughed and forgot his worries. He tightened the rein and spurred the silver steed, tugging the traces to drive forward the jade-dragon horse.

Master and disciples climbed up the mountain, it was exceedingly steep and difficult, truly imposing and towering. A fine mountain:

Lofty ridges, stern and towering; sharp, sharply pointed peaks. Cupped and encircling are the deep ravines below, and beside them the lone, steep cliffs stand sheer. In the cupped, deep ravines one can only hear water-dragons lurching in their play as they turn over; Beside the lone, precipitous cliffs one sees the tangled-forest tigers with tails lashing as they bound. Looking upward, the hilltops jut up suddenly through the blue vault. Looking back, the gorge below is deep and shadowed, nearly touching the green void. Going up it feels like climbing steps and stools; going down it is like crossing ditches and pits. It is truly a bizarre and uncanny peak-chain, a series of knife-like sheared cliffs. On the summits, men seeking herbs think twice before stepping; before the sheer walls even woodcutters can barely move a pace. Wild goats and wild horses dart as if weaving in confusion, and crafty hares and mountain cattle are lined like battle arrays. The mountain is so high it blocks out sun and hides stars; at times one meets demons and gray wolves. The grass paths are choked and confusing, and horses cannot pass through. How could they yet behold the Buddha of the Roaring-Music Sound?

Master pulled back his horse and gazed at the mountain. At the difficult place, he saw, on a green-sedge slope, a woodcutter standing there. How he was dressed:

On his head he wore an old blue felt hat, on his body a woolen robe of coarse cotton. The old blue felt hat, covering smoke and shading sun, was truly extraordinary. The woolen robe, by which one can truly forget one’s worries, was scarcely seen. In his hand he held a steel axe, bright and newly sharpened, chopping dry timber and bundling it tight. At the edge of spring, the four seasons blended in a quiet softness; Outside ordinary concerns, his idle heart was always dim and calm as three faint stars. He lived to old age simply by following his lot; what are honor and shame but temporary by the mountain? The woodcutter said: He was cutting rotten wood at the slope front, when suddenly he saw the elder coming from the east. He set down his pole and axe outside the trees, stepping off the bank onto the rocky ridge. He called out in a harsh voice toward Master: "Venerable elder going west, halt a moment. I have a word to tell you: this mountain has a band of fierce malignant demons who specialize in eating people going east and west." Hearing this, Master was distraught, his soul nearly fled and his trembling made him barely steady in the saddle. He turned back in haste and called to his disciples, "Did you hear what the woodcutter reported? 'This mountain has evil, ferocious demons.' Who dares go and ask him?" Sun Wukong said, "Master, do not worry. Leave it to old Sun to ask him directly."

The Great Sage, entirely fearless, pulled in his pace and went straight up the mountain, calling to the woodcutter with "Big brother" and offering salutation. The woodcutter replied, "Venerable, what cause has brought you here?" Sun Wukong said, "I will not hide it, brother. We have come from the eastern lands as a mission to the Western Heaven to fetch the sutras. On that horse sits my master, who has some timidity. Just now by providence we have heard of a fierce demonic braggart, so I have come to ask plainly: what years is that demon, what years is that monster? Is he fully grown in rank, or still a cub? Please speak plainly, so that I may go tell the mountain spirits and the Earth gods to raise him up from there." The woodcutter, hearing this, threw back his head and laughed: "So you really are a wind-monk." Sun Wukong said, "I am not one of the winds—this is truth in plain words." The woodcutter said, "If you are so straightforward, how do you dare to say you can get him to rise?" Sun Wukong said, "With such swagger as yours, and your random road-side warning, how could this not mean you are close to him? If not kin, then at least neighbor; if not neighbor, then surely friend." The woodcutter laughed and said, "Reckless monk, your reasoning is off. I only meant well, to come and warn you and tell you to be careful by day and by night as you walk, yet you blame me for it. Do not say I do not know where these demons come from. I do know, however: how can you send him off?" Sun Wukong said, "If it is a heavenly demon, he can be handed to the Jade Emperor; if an earth demon, to the Earth Office. Those of the west belong to Buddha, the east to the Holy Sage; north to true warrior Zhenwu, south to Fire Virtue. A flood-drake spirit belongs to the Sea Lord; a scheming ghost to King Yama. Each has its own landward authority. Old Sun is known everywhere. I can issue an imperial order and by night send him off in flight."

The woodcutter could not stop a cold laugh: "Reckless monk, you wander up and down in the upper clouds, have learned some scripture-sign and talisman-water arts to drive out evil and bind ghosts, and yet have never met a demon of such cruelty." Sun Wukong said, "How do you know he is cruel?" The woodcutter said, "This mountain is about six hundred li across and called Pingting Mountain. In it is a cave called Lotus-Flower Cave. In that cave are two demon chiefs. They draw shadow forms and figures, seeking to capture monks, checking surnames and names, and wanting to eat Tripitaka. If you had come from elsewhere, that might be better, but because you bear the character 'Tang', do not even think of going out alive." Sun Wukong said, "Then it is we who are indeed from the Tang." The woodcutter said, "Then he is surely coming to eat you all." Sun Wukong said, "By fate, indeed. But I do not know how he will eat." The woodcutter said, "How do you think he will eat?" Sun Wukong said, "If he eats the head first, perhaps we can still make a sport of it. If he eats the feet first, it is hard indeed." The woodcutter said, "How can head-first be hard, or feet-first be hard?" Sun Wukong said, "You have not truly encountered it. If it is head-first, one bite takes it off and I am dead. No matter how he fries or stews me, I may not know pain. If it is feet-first, he gnaws the staff, bites through the legs, and eats to the waistbone; I would not die at once, yet it is not in fragments but in pieces of suffering, and that is hard indeed." The woodcutter said, "Monk, he has not that much time. He will simply seize you, bind you in a cage, and steam you whole." Sun Wukong laughed, "That is even better. I could not bear pain itself, but only a little trapped suffocation would pass." The woodcutter said, "Monk, do not jest. That demon carries five treasures and his powers are huge and wide. He has a jade pillar that can prop Heaven and a golden beam that can brace the sea. If even a Tang monk is to be taken, you still must make him swoon several times." Sun Wukong said, "A few times? how many?" The woodcutter said, "You would have to make him swoon three or four times." Sun Wukong said, "No matter. We issue seven or eight hundred swoons in a year. Three or four of these is easy: with a few stuns he will be done.

The Great Sage, utterly without fear, had only one mind: to protect Tripitaka. He tore free of the woodcutter, pulled his stride and turned, going straight to the front of the horse on the mountain slope: "Master, nothing serious. There is a demon-lad here, only that the folk here are timid and keep him in their minds. With me present, what can he do? Move along. Move along." When Master saw this, he could only open his heart and follow. Just as they continued, that woodcutter was already out of sight. Master said, "How has the woodcutter who warned us disappeared?" Sha Wujing said, "Our fate is poor; we have run into a ghost in broad daylight." Sun Wukong said, "Perhaps he has slipped into the woods for firewood. Wait here and I will look."

The Great Sage opened his Fire-Eye Golden Eyes and looked across mountain and ridge, yet there was no trace. Suddenly he raised his head and looked into the clouds; seeing it was the day-appointed official, he leapt through the clouds and caught up, shouting "hairy ghost" a few times: "Why, when you had news to bring, did you not speak it plainly, yet change forms so? How rude to old Sun?" Startled, the official paid homage and said, "Great Sage, I came to report too late; do not punish, do not punish. That demon is truly highly potent in spirits and miracles, with endless transformations. Just watch how cleverly you move your stratagems and keep watchful protection over your master. If you grow careless even a little, do not think you can go to the Western Paradise anymore."

When Sun Wukong heard this, he rebuked and sent the gong-cao officer away, took the matter deeply to heart, mounted the cloud path, and came straight up the mountain. He saw Tripitaka advancing, with Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing clustered around him. Inside, he thought: "If I told Master exactly what the gong-cao said, my Master would not be able to take it and surely begin to weep. But if I do not tell him everything and simply lead him along, there is the old saying, 'The first time one enters a reed marsh, one does not yet know its depth.' If somehow the demons seize him, will I not then be the one to fret over it?

I will first look after Zhu Bajie. I will set him to step forward and fight that fiend once. If he can beat it, that is one merit for him; if he lacks means and gets taken, it will not be too late for old Sun to rescue him later, and then my skill will be made known." As he was still weighing this, he said to himself in his heart: "I only fear Zhu Bajie will hide behind laziness and refuse to come out, and Master has some soft corner for him. So old Sun must rein him in."

"Great Sage, look: he is putting on a fake face, rubbing his eyes again and again until tears come. He comes walking forward to meet Master." Zhu Bajie saw this and hurriedly called, "Sha Wujing, put down the shoulder pole and bring out the baggage. Let the two of us divide it." Sha Wujing said, "Elder Brother, divide what?" Zhu Bajie replied, "Let’s split it. You go back to the Flowing-Sand River and become a demon again; old Pig will go up to Gao the old manor and check on the whole family. Sell the white horse and buy a coffin, then send Master to die. We all disperse the flames, and still we can continue to the Western Heaven, right?"

Tripitaka heard this from the saddle: "That obstinate fool, we are already on the road—what is all this nonsense now?" Zhu Bajie said, "It is your own brat speaking nonsense. Do you not see how Sun Wukong has come crying here? He is a hero who can tunnel through earth and sky, whose ax fears no fire and whose body fears no cauldron of oil, and now he wears a hat of sorrow with eyes brimming with tears. The mountain must be steep and the demon fierce. How can people as weak as us go there?"

Tripitaka said, "Do not babble. Let me ask him and see what he says." He asked, "Wukong, if there is anything to bargain over, say it to me to my face. Why are you troubled with such private grief? With that crybaby face of yours, could you frighten a tiger?"

Sun Wukong said, "Master, the messenger was the gong-cao on duty. He said the demon was ferocious and this place hard to pass; truly the mountain is high and the road steep. We cannot go on now, so we should return another day." Tripitaka, frightened, grasped Sun Wukong's tiger-skin skirt and said, "Disciple, we have already crossed three relays and half a stage. Why do you now speak of giving up and retreating?"

Wukong said, "I have not failed in care. I only fear there are many demons and we move as a lone party. 'Though it is a lump of iron, how many nails can be hammered from one furnace?'" Tripitaka said, "Disciple, you are right. Indeed, one man alone is hard-pressed. The war manual says, 'A few cannot defeat a host.' I still have Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing; they are my disciples. With your command to deploy them as bodyguard and helper, if you work in concert, clear this mountain path together and lead me over, can we not all still attain the true fruit?"

That whole hesitation drew from Sun Wukong these words. He wiped his eyes and said, "Master, if we are to pass this mountain, Zhu Bajie must obey two instructions from me; only then do we have even three parts of a chance. If he does not follow my word, he cannot think of crossing an inch without me, even by half a point."

Zhu Bajie said, "Senior brother, then let us just scatter the fire and stop talking. Do not drag me by the collar." Tripitaka said, "Disciple, let me ask your older brother what he is asking you to do." The fool said truly to Sun Wukong, "Brother, what are you asking me to do?" Wukong said, "First, watch over Master. Second, patrol the mountain." Zhu Bajie said, "Watching the Master means sitting; patrolling means walking. Could I sit for a bit and then walk, then walk and then sit? How can one person mind both?"

Wukong said, "You need not do both at once. Take one duty, and that is all." Zhu Bajie laughed, "That is a better arrangement. But I still do not know how this looks: what is watching Master, what is patrolling? Tell me the exact way to match each task, then I can do it." Wukong said, "Watch Master thus: if Master comes out for obeisance, attend him; if he walks, support him; if he is to take his vegetarian fare, prepare it. If he is a little hungry, you should beat him; if his face turns yellow, you should beat him; if his frame grows thin, you should beat him."

Zhu Bajie panicked: "This is hard, hard, hard. Attending and supporting him is not too hard, even if I never leave his side and carry him, that is still manageable. But if you send me down to the villages to prepare his vegetarian meal, on this road to the West no one will know he is a monk for pilgrimage. They will think I am only a half-grown, half-wild strong boar from the hills. With a crowd, trident and broom in hand, they will surround and knock down old Pig, take him home to butcher, pickle him, and feast on him through New Year. Would that not end in disaster?" Wukong said, "Go patrol the mountain, then."

Zhu Bajie asked, "What is patrolling then?" Wukong said, "Enter this mountain and ask how many demons there are, what mountain, what cave they dwell in, so we can pass correctly." Zhu Bajie said, "If this is so, let old Pig patrol." He gathered up his robes and strode in, lifting his iron rake upright, broad-shouldered and fierce, heading straight into the deep mountain. His spirit rose high as he rushed up the main path.

From behind, Sun Wukong could not help a sly laugh. Tripitaka scolded, "You reckless monkey! The brothers all lack tenderness and always harbor jealous hearts. You have made such sly and crafty words, told him to patrol, yet you stay and laugh at him here."

Wukong said, "I am not laughing at him. I have a different taste in this laughter. See, when Zhu Bajie goes out like this, he will not patrol and will not dare to face demons; he will hide himself somewhere and then invent a lie to fool us."

Tripitaka said, "How can you know that?" Wukong said, "I can guess this. If you doubt me, let me follow him and test. First, I can help him aid in subduing demons; second, I can see whether he truly has a sincere heart to worship Buddha." Tripitaka said, "Good, good, good. Do not go and trick him."

Wukong assented, ran up the slope, and in a body transformation became a cicada-like insect. He made himself light and nimble. One could see:

Thin wings dance in the wind without effort; the waist is sharp and fine as a needle. He threads through reed and brush beneath flower shade, quicker still than a meteor. His eyes shine clear and bright; his voice is faint and whisper-soft. Among all insects he is small, upright and poised, with a hidden steadiness in him. After many days of idling, he rests in secluded woods, his whole body unseen, and not even a thousand eyes can seek him out.

With one sharp whirr of a wing he flew up, caught up and landed behind Zhu Bajie's ear, under the tuft of hair at the root. The fool just kept walking and did not know someone sat upon him. After going seven or eight li, he dropped the iron rake, turned his head back, and, gesturing and pointing at Tripitaka, cursed: "You soft old monk, the Bian-ma-wun, and the mild-faced Sha Wujing—there they sit at ease, fooling me into this long road. We all set out to obtain the true fruit, yet I alone am told to patrol this mountain. Ha!

I have heard there are demons, so I should slip away a bit to dodge them—at least half done. Yet he sends me to go hunting for them. Such ill luck! Where shall I go to sleep? I will sleep a while and return, and in a dazed reply to him I will just say I have already patrolled the mountain and finish the matter." For a moment the fool thought himself lucky, gathered up his rake, and walked on. He saw a curved red-grass slope in a hollow of the mountain. He dived in headfirst, set the rake down, thudded into a bed, and slept on, stretching his waist, and said, "So free. Even that Bima-wun cannot be at ease like I am."

Sun Wukong had been listening to every word from behind his ear root. Unable to restrain himself, he flew up once more and pinched him once. Again he changed form and became a woodpecker beetle. As one could see:

Red-glossed, iron-sharp beak, bright and sleek. Green plumage and plumage of a vivid hue. A pair of steel claws sharp as needles. The belly may be hungry; it cares nothing for the stillness of the forest. It most loves rotten rotten wood and decayed timber, but despises old, lonely trees. Round eyes, decisive tail, spirit that flings forth; the pecking sound itself is worth hearing. This insect was not very large nor very small, weighing only two or three taels. A red-copper beak, black-iron legs. With a shiver of a wing it dropped down in a sweep. Zhu Bajie had fallen on his back and was asleep, and the bug pinched his lips sharply once with its beak.

That oaf, flustered, scrambled up and began shouting wildly: "There’s a demon, there’s a demon! It stabbed me once and ran off, and my mouth hurts so much." He reached out to touch it and blood came out. He said, "Goodness, I have not just had some matter for joy. How did my mouth come to be covered in red?" He looked at the bloody hand and kept muttering, glancing about both sides, yet seeing no movement. "There is no monster at all; how could something stab me?" He lifted his head and, looking up, found it was a pecking bug flying in the air. Biting his teeth, he cursed: "That corpse-brother is only Bimawen trouble-meddling with me; now you are troubling me, too. I understand now. He surely does not know me as a person; he thinks my mouth is just a black, rotten, decayed piece of wood with worms in it, and he pecks this way when hunting them. He pecked me once, just once. Once I tuck my mouth into my breast I can sleep." He muttered on and immediately slipped back to sleep. Sun Wukong returned once more, and, pecking behind his ear again, the fool, in alarm, sprang up and said, "This corpse-thing is vexing me badly. Certainly this must be his nest, where he lays eggs and fledglings. He fears I have taken it, so he bothers me this way. Enough—enough—no more sleeping." Grasping his spade, he strode straight out of Red-Grass Slope, searching for another road. That put Sun Wukong in good spirits; the handsome Monkey King laughed aloud. Wukong said, "This blockhead has his eyes flung wide open and cannot even recognize his own companions."

Great Sage, he shook his body and changed again, becoming a tiny xiao-liao insect, and clung behind Bajie’s ear, never leaving him. The fool went deeper into the mountain, walked on for four or five li, and saw in a hollow three square blue stones the size of a table top. He set down his spade and made a grand obeisance to the stones. Wukong laughed quietly: "This fool, the stones are not people—they cannot speak and cannot return courtesy; why does he bow to them? He is like a blind fool." In truth, the fool took the three stones for Tripitaka, Sha Wujing, and Wukong and rehearsed in front of them. He said to himself, "Now when I return and if he asks whether there is a demon, I will say there is. If he asks what kind of mountain it is and I say it is clay-molded, earth-built, cast in tin, cast in bronze, steamed from dough, paper-covered, painted in brush strokes, then when he hears that he will call me a fool. I will simply say it is Stone Mountain. If he asks what cave, only say it is Stone Cave. If he asks what gate, say the Iron-leaf Gate with nailed leaves. If he asks how far in, say there are three levels. If he asks again to search and asks how many nails are on the gate, I shall only say, "My old pig-heart is too flustered to remember truly." If this fabrication is settled well, I can deceive that Bimawen." The fool gathered himself, dragged his spade, and headed straight back on the original path.

What Wukong heard from behind his ear was all clear. Seeing him return, Wukong at once sprang up with both wings and hurried back ahead, resuming his true form before Master Tripitaka. "Wukong, you have come—how is Wuneng not coming back?" Tripitaka asked. Wukong laughed: "He is there, making up lies as he goes; he should return soon." Tripitaka said, "His ears cover his eyes; he is dull-witted. What lies can he make? What ghost-talk are you putting into him?" Wukong replied, "Master, you only defend him. These are matched questions indeed." He then explained that the fool had slept in the grass, been awakened by the pecking bug, made obeisance to the stones, and fabricated the Stone Mountain, Stone Cave, Iron-leaf Gate, and demon-business beforehand.

When he had finished, soon the fool came back. Fearing he might forget the lie, he kept his head lowered and practiced his words under his breath. Wukong barked, "Bajie, what are you reciting?" Bajie lifted his ears and peered, saying, "Have I reached the place?" He came forward and knelt. Tripitaka helped him up: "Disciple, you are exhausted." Bajie said, "Indeed. For the one on foot, for the one climbing hills—this is the hardest of hardships." Tripitaka asked, "Were there demons?" Bajie answered, "There are demons, there are demons—a whole heap of demons." "How did he send you?" "He called me Pig Forefather and Pig Maternal-Grandfather. He set out some flour-soup vegetarian dishes, fed me a meal, and said he would array drums and flags to send us over the mountain." Wukong said, "He must have fallen asleep in the grass; he was speaking in his sleep." At that, the fool grew two chi shorter and stammered, "Grandfather! If I am asleep, how should I have known?" Wukong moved forward and hauled him by the ear: "Come, let me ask you." The fool, frightened, said, "Ask all you like, why this tugging?" "What mountain is it?" "It is Stone Mountain." "What cave?" "It is Stone Cave." "What gate?" "It is a nailed Iron-leaf Gate." "How far inside?" "It is three levels deep." Wukong said, "You need not continue. I remember the latter part perfectly. If Master does not believe, I will speak it for you." Bajie said, "Brother, you have not even gone there. How do you know those things? Why should you speak for me?" Wukong laughed, "Is this it? 'If he asks how many nails are on the gate, just say, old pig-heart is too busy and cannot remember clearly.'" The fool hurriedly knelt. Wukong said, "You made obeisance toward those stones, taking them as if they were the three of us and answering each question in turn. Is that so? And did you not also say, 'Once I get my lie in order, I can deceive Bimawen'?" The fool at once merely knelt and knocked his head, saying, "Elder Brother, I go on patroling the mountain. Did you truly come with me just to listen?"

Wukong snapped, "You worthless, sackful-of-straw fool! At such an important place you were ordered to patrol, and you slept. Had it not been for the pecking bug waking you, you would still be sleeping there. And once you woke, you even invented such a huge lie—would you not ruin a major matter? Bring out that cane and I will strike you five times to etch a lesson into your head." Bajie panicked, "That mourning-gong club is so heavy. One more strike and it will scrape my skin, wrench my sinews, and tear them; five strikes would be death." Wukong said, "You fear being hit, yet how could you forge such lies?" Bajie said, "Brother, if I get through this time, I will never do it again." Wukong said, "One time, three blows." Bajie said, "Granda-—even half a blow I cannot bear." With nowhere else to turn, Bajie seized Master Tripitaka and pleaded, "Please, Master, ask one be spoken to me." Tripitaka said, "Wukong says you fabricated lies; I do not yet believe him. If it is truly so, you truly deserve punishment. But we are now crossing a mountain with few people to command us. Wukong, spare him for now; after we pass this mountain, punish him then." Wukong said, "The ancients said, 'To follow one’s parents’ words with affection is called great filial piety.' Since Master says no beating, I will spare you this time. Go patrol with him again. If you lie again and upset matters, I will not spare you then even once."

The fool only rose and went again. You can see him rush up onto the main road, fear and hidden ghosts springing in his breast, and at every step he suspected that Wukong had transformed and was following him, so each object he saw made him think it was Wukong. After seven or eight li he saw a tiger running down a mountain slope. He was not afraid and raised his spade, saying, "Brother, have you come to listen while I make up these lies? This time I won’t make any." He went on. Then the mountain wind came, strong enough with one cry to tear a dead log from its place and roll it before him. He stumbled and struck his chest, saying, "Brother, what is this? I said I would not make lies this time, and now this tree comes and strikes me? Why turn into this tree to hit me?" He went forward again; he saw a white-necked old crow ahead, crying sharply with repeated calls. He said, "Brother, don't be ashamed, don’t be ashamed. I said I would not make up lies, and I will not. Why do you keep becoming a crow and speaking? Are you here to listen?" In truth, on this occasion Wukong had not followed him at all; only the fool, frightened by his own panic, wondered and suspected wildly, and therefore in every direction he suspected Wukong was by his side. The fool’s fear and suspicion are enough for now, and go no farther.

Now this mountain was called Pingtong Mountain, and the cave was called Lotus-Flower Cave. In that cave lived two demons: one called Golden-Horn Great King, and one called Silver-Horn Great King. Golden-Horn was seated, and said to Silver-Horn, “Brother, how long has it been since we have patrolled the mountain?” Silver-Horn said, “Half a month.” Golden-Horn said, “Brother, today you go with me to patrol.” Silver-Horn said, “Why patrol today?” Golden-Horn said, “You do not know. Not long ago I heard that in the Eastern Capital of the Great Tang, a monk from the Tang court named Tripitaka had been sent west to pray to Buddha. He travels with four in his company: Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing, and including the horse makes five in all. When you see him, bring him to me.” Silver-Horn said, “We are to eat men. Could we not just catch a few in any case? Since this monk is going west, let him go.” Golden-Horn said, “You do not understand. When I once left the heavenly court, I once heard men say this: Tripitaka is Elder Jinchan descended to the mortal world, a virtuous man of ten lives of cultivation, with not a grain of his original yang released. Whoever eats his flesh gains life-prolonging longevity. Silver-Horn said, “If eating his flesh brings long life, then why should we practice any more—why sit in meditation, do any deeds, forge dragons and tigers, mate male with female? We should just eat him. Let me fetch him.” Golden-Horn said, “Brother, you are too hasty; do not be so quick. If you step out of the cave, no matter what happens, if the monk is brought here and if it is not Tripitaka, he is still not a true son of man. I remember his appearance. I once had his teacher and disciples drawn, a sketch and figure made. You can take it and, when you meet the monk, compare with it. I also gave the name and identity of each person, one by one.” Silver-Horn took the image and names, knew their names, then left the cave and called out thirty small demons, and they came to patrol the mountain.

Elsewhere, Zhu Bajie was walking, and all of a sudden collided with a crowd of demons, who stepped in front of him and blocked the way, asking, “Who is coming here?” The fool only lifted his head and, with his ears flapping, saw they were demons, and he was frightened. In his heart he thought, If I say I am a monk of the pilgrimage, they will haul me off.” So he only said he was merely passing by. One of the little demons reported back, “Great King, he is just walking along.” Among the thirty of them, some recognized him and some did not. A demon beside them, listening to the instructions and speech, said, “Great King, this monk resembles Zhu Bajie from the portrait.” He called for the spirit-image scroll to be raised. When Zhu Bajie saw it he was greatly startled and said, “Ah! Why have I been so listless all this while? It was he who brought over my spirit-image.” The little demon prodded him with a spear, and Silver-Horn pointed with his finger: “The one riding the white horse is Tripitaka. The hairy-faced one is Sun Wukong.” Hearing this, Zhu Bajie cried out, “City God, it can pass without me; one pig-head, three sacrificial victims, twenty-four clear offerings.” He kept muttering and praying. The demon said again, “This dark-skinned tall one is Sha Wujing, and that long-nosed broad-eared one is Zhu Bajie.” Hearing himself called out, the fool hastily shoved his mouth into his bosom and hid it. The demon barked, “Monk, put your mouth out.” Zhu Bajie said, “I am sick in my belly; I cannot stretch it out.” The demon ordered a young one to hook it out with tongs. Startled, the fool stretched out his mouth and said, “It's not a small household form— is this it? If you want to look, then look. What use is a hook?”

When that demon recognized Zhu Bajie, he drew his precious saber and came forward to chop. The fool raised his spiked rake and held it up: “My son, do not be impolite—look at this spiked rake!” The demon laughed, “This monk took lay vows halfway on the road.” Zhu Bajie said, “Good son, you have some spirit. How did you know the master was a lay novice?” The demon said, “You know how to use this rake. You must have stolen it from someone’s garden while they were digging the earth.” Zhu Bajie said, “My son, how do you know this is the master’s rake? It is not a gardener’s rake. This one is:

Cast in giant-toothed form like the claw of a dragon, gilded through with gold, it looks like a tiger’s shape. If it meets an enemy, cold wind sprays; if it holds its ground, sparks of flame arise. It can clear away obstacles for Tripitaka, seize demons along the Western Road. Twisting smoke and rosy cloud to hide sun and moon, it raises dark clouds and dims the stars. It can topple old Tiger of Mount Tai and startle even the old Dragon of the Great Sea by turning it over. Even if you, demon, have methods to spare, one blow of this spiked rake makes nine bloody holes.” Hearing this, the demon would not yield. He drew the Seven-Star Sword, cast and parried in many ways. The two traded blows back and forth in the mountains for twenty rounds, neither giving victory. When Zhu Bajie took his enmity to the utmost, he met him as one prepared to die. Seeing him yank his ears, saliva spraying, brandishing the spiked rake, and shouting and roaring, the demon had some fear at last. He then turned and summoned the lesser demons, all of them to join in. If they had fought one by one, that was still manageable. But when he saw all these little demons rushing in together, he flustered, could not hold up his guard, broke rank, and turned to run. Indeed, the path was uneven and he had not looked carefully. Suddenly he was tripped by a tangle of wild vines and stumbled. He struggled up and went to run, when another little demon knocked him down. Grabbing at his heels, he went down again in a full fall. A group pounced and held him fast, grabbing his mane, wrenching his ears, hauling at his feet and tail, then shouldering and lifting him to carry him into the cave. Ah! It was exactly: A demon-body is hard indeed to burn away, With ten thousand kinds of disasters, removal is hard to achieve.

In the end, we still do not yet know Zhu Bajie’s fate. Listen to the next chapter for explanation.