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.

At that moment the Great Sage, Sun Wukong, could not hold back his agony; he implored, ‘Master, do not chant the spell, do not chant the spell—let me heal him first.’ Tripitaka asked, ‘How is that to be healed?’ Wukong answered, ‘Only by going into the underworld. I must inspect the household of King Yan to find his wandering soul and bring it back to save him.’ Zhu Bajie objected, ‘Master, do not trust him. He had said he could be healed in the land of the living and never asked to go to the underworld; that was to show off skill.’ But the older monk believed him and recited the Tightening Headband Spell again. In panic, Wukong pleaded over and over, ‘Heal him in the living world, heal him in the living world.’ Zhu Bajie urged, ‘Do not stop. Keep chanting. Just keep chanting.’ Wukong snapped, ‘You useless brute, forcing Master to keep chanting spells on me.’ Zhu Bajie laughed and said, ‘Brother, brother, you only know how to tease me. You do not know I can tease you too.’ Wukong said, ‘Master, do not chant, do not chant—let old Sun first heal him in the mortal world.’ Tripitaka asked, ‘How can he be healed in the living world?’ Wukong replied, ‘I shall mount my cloud and blast into the Southern Heavenly Gate. I will not enter the Douniu Palace nor the Lingxiao Hall, but go straight above the Thirty-Three Heavens to the Doushui Court of Lihen, find Taishang Laojun, and ask for one pellet of the Nine-Turn Reviving Elixir. That will surely bring him back to life.’

When Tripitaka heard this, he was overjoyed. ‘Then go—come quickly,’ he said. Wukong replied, ‘It is only third watch now. If I go and return, dawn will be breaking. But this man is lying here, cold and still, hardly fitting for burial rites. Someone must stand by him as a mourner and weep; only then will it be proper.’ Zhu Bajie said, ‘No need to speak further. This monkey surely wants me to cry.’ Wukong said, ‘Do you think you would not cry? If you do not cry, I cannot heal him.’ Zhu Bajie said, ‘Brother, you go on your way; I will do the crying.’ Wukong instructed, ‘There are several kinds of crying. If one merely cries out with a dry mouth, that is wailing. If one twists out tears and sobs, that is sobbing. Real wail-and-sob grief needs both tears and feeling.’ Zhu Bajie said, ‘Let me show you a cry, then.’ He quickly tore off some paper, twisted it into a little wad, shoved it into both nostrils, gave a couple of snorts, then splattered out a spray of tears; his eyes were watery, his mouth wet with drool, and he began to cry. His mouth kept chattering on in nonsense, and it seemed truly as though a dead man wept. As he cried over that painful spot, even Tripitaka’s eyes filled with tearful sorrow. Wukong laughed, ‘Exactly—such grief. Do not stop making noise. That fool distracted me, and then he stopped crying. I still hear him; if the crying is like that, enough. But if his voice even falters, I will hit him with twenty canings.’ Zhu Bajie chuckled, ‘You go, you go. When I cry this way, my head aches for two days.’ Sha Wujing, seeing him scolded, went to find some incense and offer it. Wukong laughed: ‘Well, well, well—if each of us shows a little reverence, then old Sun can work with full concentration.’

Soon after, in the middle of the night, having parted from the trio of master and disciples, Sun Wukong rose on his cloud and entered only the Southern Heavenly Gate. As he had said, he did not visit Lingxiao Hall, did not enter the Douniu Palace; with a sweep of cloud-light he went straight to the Doushui Court on Lihen in the realm above the Thirty-Three Heavens. As soon as he passed the gate, he saw Taishang Laojun seated in the cinnabar chamber, while many immortal boys fanned the furnace with banana-fiber fans as they refined elixirs. Seeing Wukong arrive, Laojun told the alchemy attendants, ‘Be careful. The pill-thief has come again.’ Wukong bowed and laughed, ‘Old official, with such poor vigilance, how could you think to guard against me? I am not here to do such a thing now.’ Laojun said, ‘That monkey of yours, five hundred years ago, threw Heaven into uproar, stole my elixirs and ate them without count. I had the lesser deva Erlang capture you and bring you before me; I kept you in my furnace for forty-nine days, and no one knows how much charcoal was spent. Now you have been spared and have turned toward Buddhahood, escorting Tripitaka to the West to fetch scriptures. Yet once before, on Mount Pingding, you disrupted my subduing of demons and refused to hand over my treasures. Why do you come again today?’

Laojun asked, ‘You did not arrive by the road; how did you slip into my palace?’ Wukong answered, ‘After we parted, to the west I reached a land called Wuji. There the king was harassed by a demon that had disguised itself as a Daoist priest, calling winds and summoning rains, and secretly injuring the king. That demon took on the king’s appearance and sat upon the Golden Throne in the Hall. At that time my Master was seated in Baolin Temple at night reading scripture. The ghost of that king came to pay homage to Tripitaka and earnestly asked old Sun to descend and subdue the demon, to distinguish right from wrong. Wukong saw no clear course and, with my brother Zhu Bajie, entered the royal garden at night, broke open the garden, and searched until we found the hiding place: an eight-sided glass well. We drew up his corpse; his face was unchanged. When we brought him to the temple and told my Master, he took compassion and ordered old Sun to heal him, forbidding us to go into the underworld to fetch a soul. He said it must be done in the land of the living. I can find no other way for him to be restored, so I came to pay my respects. I beg the Patriarch of the Way to take pity and let me borrow one thousand of your Nine-Turn Reviving Elixir pellets, give them to old Sun, and thus save the king.’ Laojun retorted, ‘This monkey talks nonsense. What use is speaking of one thousand or two thousand pellets, as if they were dumplings? From what clod of earth are such things pulled out so easily? Go! none at all!’ Wukong replied, ‘A hundred or ten more would do.’ Laojun said, ‘None either.’ Wukong said, ‘A few dozen is enough too.’ Laojun snapped in anger, ‘This unruly monkey keeps hounding; none, none! Go, go at once!’ Wukong said, ‘Then truly there is none. I’ll ask elsewhere.’ Laojun shouted, ‘Go, go, go!’ The Great Sage made a turning step and strode away.

Laojun then thought to himself, ‘This monkey is lazy and slippery. He says he is gone, but I fear he will slip back and steal.’ He called back one of the young immortals: ‘This monkey is clumsy with his hands and feet. I will give you one pellet of the Reviving Elixir.’ Wukong said, ‘Old official, if you already know old Sun’s ways, then quickly bring out the gold pill and give me a fair share—anything you deem lucky. Otherwise I will give you a skin-winnowing-basket and scoop you out to the last grain.’ Laojun took up the gourd, turned it upside down, and poured out one golden pellet, handing it to Wukong: ‘This is all there is. Take it, take it. With this one pellet, healing that king is your merit and yours alone.’ Wukong took it and said, ‘Do not be in such a hurry. Let me taste it first; it might be false, and you might trick me.’ He stuffed it into his mouth in a flash. Alarmed, Laojun rushed forward, seized him, grabbed the top of his skull, and closed in with his fists, scolding, ‘If this wild monkey dares to swallow it, I will kill him outright.’ Wukong laughed, ‘What a little-face to act so grand! Is that yours to eat? What is it worth? You boast much, give little—what is there here?’ It turned out this monkey had a gular pouch under his jaw. He tucked that pill into it. Laojun held it there and said, ‘Leave at once. Leave at once. Do not come back here to dawdle.’ Wukong then thanked Laojun and left the Doushui Court of Lihen.

You behold him: a thousand auspicious vapors stream from the jade pavilion, and ten thousand blessed clouds descend upon the dusty world. In a moment he had come down through the Southern Heavenly Gate, returned to Dongguan, and already seen the Star of the Sun above. He stepped off the cloud head and went straight to the gate of Baolin Temple. From outside he heard only that Zhu Bajie was still crying. As he drew near he called, “Master.” Tripitaka rejoiced: “Wukong is here—do you have the elixir?” Sun Wukong said, “Yes.” Zhu Bajie replied, “How could he not? He even goes off stealing a little from other people.” Sun Wukong laughed: “Brother, go on. You are not needed now. Wipe your tears and go cry elsewhere.” “Get some water for me,” he told Sha Wujing. Sha Wujing hurried behind to the well and, finding a handy bucket, brought half a bowl of water to Sun Wukong. Sun Wukong took it, spat out the pill and placed it on the emperor’s lips. Then with both hands he pried the jaws apart and with one draught of clear water flushed the elixir pill down into the belly. After half an hour, only a rumbling arose in the belly; the body could not yet move. Sun Wukong said, “Master, even with my golden pill I cannot restore him. If nothing can be done, should we end this old fellow?” Tripitaka answered, “How can revival be denied? A corpse so long dead could not swallow water in this way. This is the divine power of the golden pill. Now that it has entered the belly, the intestines have begun to sound; gut sounds mean blood and channels stirring, but the vital qi cannot yet recoil and rise. Do not say only a man in a well for three years— even cast iron would have rusted. It is only that the primal qi is utterly exhausted; if someone gives him one helping breath, he will be well.” Zhu Bajie stepped forward to give him breath. Tripitaka caught him by the shoulder: “No. Wait for Wukong.” Tripitaka had reason: since childhood Zhu Bajie had harmed living things and committed killing sins by eating men; he was all foul and turbid breath. But Sun Wukong, who had trained from youth, chewing pine and chewing cypress, living on peach fruits, had clean breath. The Great Sage went forward, using the mouth of Thunder-god style, fixed to the emperor’s lips, and with one blast blew a breath through his throat, down the heavy passage, through Ming Hall, straight to the dantian, reversing from the spring back into the earthen-circled palace. With one ringing blast the king’s qi gathered and his spirit returned. He rolled over, raised his fists, tucked his feet, and cried, “Master!” He knelt on both knees in the dust and said, “I remember the ghostly obeisance of last night—how now, at daybreak, have I returned to Yang spirit?” Tripitaka hurriedly helped him up: “Your Majesty, it is not my doing. Show gratitude to my disciple.” Sun Wukong laughed: “What did Master say? As they go, ‘A household has no two lords.’ Your thanks to him will not be in vain.”

Tripitaka, never careless with ceremony, helped the emperor rise and entered the meditation hall with him. He then paid respects with Zhu Bajie, Sun Wukong, and Sha Wujing, and only then took their places. The monks of that temple had already arranged the morning offering and were coming to present it when suddenly they saw that water-clad emperor. Each was startled, all voices filled with doubt. Sun Wukong stepped out and said, “Do not be startled so. This is the true ruler of the Kingdom of Wuji, your genuine sovereign. Three years ago a monster took his life; it was Old Wukong who revived him this very night. Now we enter your city and set matters of right and wrong aright. If there is prepared food, bring it and let us eat before we leave.” Immediately the monks offered tea and water, washed his face, and changed his clothes. They removed the reddish-yellow robe, and a monk official of the temple gave him two simple lined robes. They took off his Lan-Field sash and tied around him a yellow silk cord. They removed his Wuyou footwear and gave him a pair of old monastic slippers. Then all ate the morning meal, and the horses were made ready.

Sun Wukong asked, “Zhu Bajie, how heavy is this baggage?” Zhu Bajie said, “Elder brother, I have been carrying this load every day; I do not even know how heavy it is.” Sun Wukong said, “Split that one shoulder load into two. Carry one yourself, and have the emperor carry the other. We must hasten into the city to get the matter done.” Zhu Bajie laughed with delight: “Truly fate is odd. Back then, carrying him here, I did not know how much strength it cost. Now that he has been revived, he is plainly a substitute body.” He busied himself with the empty airs of a magician, split the baggage in two, and asked the temple for a shoulder pole. He took the lighter section himself and had the emperor carry the heavier one. Sun Wukong laughed: “Your Majesty, with that outfit, to carry a load and walk with us—would that not be a burden to you?” The king immediately knelt and said, “Master, you are my parent in rebirth. Never mind carrying burdens. I would gladly hold a whip and stirrup and attend my lord, even follow him to the Western Heaven.” Sun Wukong said, “You must not go to the Western Heaven. I have reason to keep you from it. You only need to carry this for forty li into the city. After we seize the demon, you will again be your emperor, and we will still take our Scripture.” Hearing this, Zhu Bajie said, “Then he carries only forty li, and I, old pig, remain your long-armed porter.” Sun Wukong said, “Brother, stop your foolish chatter. Go ahead and lead the way out front.”

Indeed, Zhu Bajie led the emperor forward; Sha Wujing attended by serving Tripitaka and mounted up; Sun Wukong followed behind. From the temple, five hundred monks, all in tidy ranks and full formation, played soft music and escorted them out beyond the mountain gate. Sun Wukong laughed: “Monks, do not send us too far. But if officials hear and become aware, they may expose my affair and that would look bad. Go back, go back at once. Just make the emperor’s robes and hat and sash neat and clean, and whether tonight or tomorrow at first light, send him into the city. I will ask for some court gifts in thanks.” All the monks, obeying, withdrew. Sun Wukong lengthened his stride and hurried up to Tripitaka, moving directly ahead.

From the West there are methods to seek the true; with gold and wood in harmony, spirit is refined. The mother of the elixir lies in a blank, misty, half-forgotten dream; the child forever laments its rough-bodied, timber form. The Bright Sovereign must be sought at the bottom of the well; and one must also ascend to Heaven to bow before the Lord Lao. He who understands form as emptiness and returns to original nature is truly a Buddha for beings with affinity.

On the road, after half a day, the party saw the city walls closing in on the horizon. Tripitaka said, “Wukong, ahead is the Kingdom of Wuji.” Sun Wukong said, “Indeed. Let us hurry and enter the city to do our work.” Entering the city they saw streets and markets full and in perfect order, all lively with bustle. Soon after they saw magnificent phoenix-topped towers and dragon-bayed halls, truly magnificent. As proof, there was a poem:

Across the sea, palaces and towers look like realms above; in this world, singing and dancing recall former Tang. Flowers welcome jeweled fans as red clouds whirl; sunlight glints on bright robes in greenish mist. Peacock screens open and incense mists rise; pearl curtains roll, and variegated flags are raised. Such a scene of peace is truly worthy of rejoicing; many officials stand in still rows, no memorials to present.

Tripitaka dismounted and said, “Disciples, when we enter the court we can have the travel pass exchanged and avoid another round of office paperwork.” Sun Wukong said, “That is right. Let all my brothers enter together; many of us will make speaking easier.” Tripitaka said, “All of you, go in and do not scatter. First perform the ruler-subject court etiquette, then speak.” Sun Wukong said, “To perform ruler-subject ritual, one must do five kneels and three head-knock bows.” Tripitaka replied, “Exactly so, the full five bows and three prostrations.” Sun Wukong laughed: “Master does not understand. If we bow to him, it is not wise. Let me go in first and handle it. If he speaks, leave the replies to me. If I bow, you bow. If I squat, you squat.” See how this troublemaking Monkey King went to the palace gate and said to the Gate-Minister: “We are envoys sent under the Great Tang of the East to go to the Western Heaven and bow to Buddha for scriptures. We have come to exchange our travel permit here; please convey this, so there is no fault in this blessed undertaking.” The Gate Officer of yellow robes entered the hall, knelt on the platform, and declared: “At the outer gate stand five monks, saying they are envoys from the Tang court of the Great Tang in the East, sent to the Western Heaven to bow before Buddha and seek scripture. They dare not enter on their own, and now stand outside waiting for the announcement.” The demon king then ordered it proclaimed.

Tripitaka too entered inside the court gate with the restored monarch at his side. As they moved, the king could not stop tears from sliding down his cheeks and in his heart thought, “How pitiful—my land of bronze measures and my iron-banked state—who would have known they had been usurped in shadow?” Sun Wukong said, “Your Majesty, do not be so distressed and do not let the news leak out. This staff in my ear is still bristling, and now I will show action: I will surely strike down the demon and sweep away the evil. Your kingdom will not long be out of your hands.” The king dared not disobey. He merely tugged at his robe and wiped his tears, resolved to follow even at risk of death, and went straight on to the Golden Vermilion Hall. There he saw two formations of civil and military officers, four hundred court dignitaries, each with severe and dignified bearing and lofty appearance.

The Great Sage, Sun Wukong, brought Tripitaka to stand before the White Jade Stair, standing upright and unmoving. All the officials below the stair, both civil and martial, were filled with fear as they said, “This monk is profoundly stupid and dense. Why, on seeing my king, does he not descend and bow? He does not speak to call blessings, he does not sing out a single salutation. So bold, so rude.” Before anyone could continue, the Demon King asked, “From which land is that monk?” Sun Wukong answered proudly, “I am from the Great Tang in the Eastern Lands of Nanzhenbuzhou, an imperial envoy of the Great Tang ordered to go to the Great Le Yin Monastery in the Western Region kingdom of Tianzhu to bow before the Buddha and seek the True Scripture. I have now arrived here and dare not cross unattended; I have come precisely to exchange my travel authorization.” When the king heard this, he burned with anger: “Your Eastern land? I send no tribute to your court, nor am I allied with your country. Why do you dare to defy me and refuse homage?” Sun Wukong laughed. “In my Eastern country our Heavenly Court was established from ancient times, long famed as the Upper Kingdom, while your people are a border state among the lowlands. It has long been said: ‘In an upper country the emperor is father and lord; in a lower country the emperor is minister and son.’ You did not even receive me, and yet you dare to argue that I should not bow?” The king grew furious and ordered the civil and military officers: “Seize this wild monk!” At the cry of “Take him,” all officers surged forward eagerly. Sun Wukong called out once and pointed, saying, “Do not come!” With that one finger he used the Tightening Headband Spell, and all of the officers could not move. In truth the officers before the stair were like wooden puppets and the generals in the hall were like figures of clay.

When the king saw that he had already frozen all the officers and generals, he leapt from the dragon couch to seize him. Sun Wukong secretly rejoiced: “Good, exactly what I intended. Now this is a solid cast-iron head; strike it with a staff and I can drive a hole through it.” Just as he moved, unexpectedly a life-saving star came out from the side. Who was it? It was the crown prince of the Kingdom of Wuji, who hurried forward, seized the Demon King’s court robes, knelt before him and said, “Father king, restrain your anger.” The demon asked, “What does my son say?” The prince answered, “I inform the king: three years ago we heard people say that a holy monk, an imperial envoy from Tang, was sent west to bow before Buddha and seek the sacred scripture. By chance, today he has come to my kingdom. Father king, your nature is stern and formidable. If you have this monk beheaded, when the Tang court hears of it Great Tang will surely be angered. Think of Li Shimin, who called himself king, unified the whole realm, and whose heart was not yet content; he crossed the sea for campaigns. If he learns that our king harmed that emperor’s holy monk, he will surely raise troops and horses and come to contend with our king. Then, with few soldiers and few generals, repentance will come too late. Your Majesty, in accordance with your son’s words, first bring in those four monks and question their origins clearly. First establish that they do not make formal submission to the throne; only then may punishment be sought.”

This turn was truly because the crown prince was being cautious, fearing he might injure Tripitaka, so he purposely detained the demon; he did not know the Great Sage had already arranged to fight. Believing him, the Demon King stood before the dragon couch and shouted, “When did that monk leave the Eastern Lands, and for what matter did King Tang send you to seek scripture?” Sun Wukong answered with proud composure, “My master is Tripitaka, the emperor’s younger brother, called the Sutra-Bearer. In the court of Tang there is a chancellor surnamed Wei, named Zheng, who under Heaven’s command in a dream slew the old dragon of the River Jing. After the Great Tang king entered the netherworld and returned to life, he opened great Water-and-Land rites and broadly delivered sinful spirits and wayward ghosts. As my master expounded the Dharma and widely manifested compassion, he suddenly received instruction from Guanyin of the South Sea to go west. My master made a profound vow; with pure intent and beautiful mind he served his state to the utmost, and received from King Tang a written pass. At that time it was the thirteenth year of Zhenquan, the third day before the full moon of the ninth month, when he left the Eastern Lands. He first reached Liangjie Mountain and took me as my senior disciple: surname Sun, name Wukong, called Wukong the Great Sage. He then reached Gao Family Manor on the border of the Usi country and took a second disciple: surname Zhu, name Wuneng, Bajie. At the realm of the Flowing-sand River he took a third disciple: surname Sha, name Wujing, a monk. Earlier today at the Bao Lin Monastery of Chijian, he newly took on an errand monk carrying goods.” Hearing this, the king, now unable to inspect Tripitaka directly, spun clever questions at Sun Wukong and asked angrily, “Monk, at first you left the East alone, and yet now you have gathered four disciples. Three fellow monks can be accounted for, but this errand boy is surely one dragged in. What is his name? Does he possess a travel credential or not? Bring him up so I may question his petition.” Trembling, the emperor said, “Master, how can I produce his statement?” Sun Wukong pinched him and said, “Do not fear. Let me answer for you.”

Great Sage stepped forward and shouted sternly at the monster, “Your Majesty, this old man is mute and deaf, and somewhat hard of hearing. He traveled to the Western Regions as a child and therefore knows the roads. I know the very basis of all his movements, and I know it well. Be lenient, and let me supply his statement.” The king said, “At once, give a true statement for him and avert blame.” Sun Wukong said:

"First, there is this errand-porter monk: young in years and dull, deaf and dumb, the household ruined. His ancestral home was here of old, but five years ago came utter ruin. The sky gave no rain; the land was withered dry; king and common folk all kept fasts. They burned incense and bathed, petitioning Heaven; for ten thousand li there was not a single cloud. When famine hung over the people like something suspended upside down, a true marvel suddenly came from Zhongnan. He called wind and rain to display wondrous powers, then in secret he took life. He was pushed into the flower-garden courtyard, and dark influence invaded the dragon seat beyond men’s solving. Fortunate that I arrived: great are the merits and fruits, for raising the dead and making them live again is unhindered. He was willing to become a monk as errand porter and journey west with the monk. He made the king a daoist in pretense, while the daoist in truth became the true king in return. "

When the king heard this verse in the Golden Hall, fear struck him so that his heart pounded like a startled stag and red flush rose on his face. He quickly withdrew as if to leave, but there was no weapon in his hand. Turning back, he saw a gate general with a precious sabre at his waist; the Great Sage had already used the binding spell on him, so he stood there dazed and mute. Sun Wukong went up to him, took that treasure saber, mounted his cloud-head, and rose into the air. Sha Wujing became as noisy as thunder and Zhu Bajie shouted loudly, blaming the Great Sage as a rash monkey: “Can you not slow a little and hold him fast? Now he has fled riding the clouds—where are we to pursue him?” The Great Sage laughed: “Brothers, do not make such noise. We have called the prince to come down and bow to his father and the consort to come out and bow to her lord. I will then recite a charm and release the binding spell, and have the many officers awakened to bow to their ruler, so they know he is truly the emperor. I will explain what happened before, and only then will all be understood. I will go seek him again.” He instructed Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing: “Protect well the king and ministers, father and son, consort and lord, and my master.” As soon as he spoke the single word “go,” he vanished from sight.

He had, in truth, jumped into the clouds of Nine Heavens and looked about in all directions for the demon king. He saw the fiend had fled for his life and was running straight off to the northeast. Sun Wukong hurried near and cried, “Where are you going, monster? Old Sun has come too.” The demon king turned quickly, drew the treasure sword, and shouted, “Sun Wukong, what brazen laziness! I come to take another’s throne; it has nothing to do with you. Why do you come to intervene and expose my secret?” Sun Wukong laughed loudly, “You insolent wretch! Who made him emperor and gave him that throne? Since you know me to be Old Sun, you should have slipped away far off. Why still harass my master and ask what indictment? Was that statement just now true or not? Do not run, for a true hero now faces the staff of this Old Sun.” The demon sidestepped and met him; drawing his sword, he swung it straight at Wukong’s face. Their hands met. The combat that followed was fierce indeed:

The Monkey King was fierce; the demon king was strong. Sword met staff and guard, as if they could match one another. All day, cloud and fog darkened the Three Realms, for the setting up of the morning sovereign. The two fought a number of rounds. The demon could not withstand the Monkey King and in haste turned back, leapt by his old route into the city, burst into the mass of civil and military officers in two rows before the White Jade Stair, and with one transformation became exactly like Tripitaka, hands clasped together, standing before the stair. The Great Sage, who had chased him, moved to strike with his staff. The fiend said, “Disciple, do not strike. It is me.” and, grabbing for a staff, tried to strike that Tripitaka, then said again, “Disciple, do not strike. It is me.” In this way the two forms as Tripitaka were one and the same, impossible to discern. “If I strike once and kill the demon who has become Tripitaka, that would still become a merit of this deed. But if I strike once and kill my true master, what would then become of me?” He could only halt and called out to Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, “Which one truly is the demon and which is my master? Point out the one for me that I may strike him.” Zhu Bajie said, “You fight and shout in midair; with just a glance I see two Tripitakas, and I cannot tell which is real.”

At once the Great Sage pinched the divine-seal grip, recited the sound-charm, and called out: the guardian heavens, Liu Ding and Liu Jia, the Wufang Jiedi, the Four-Duty Gongcao, the Eighteen Protecting-Karaka attendants, the local Fangtù Earth Deity, and the Mountain Spirit of this realm: ‘Old Son has come here to subdue a demon. The fiend has changed himself into my master; their forms and breath are the same, and he is very hard to distinguish. Whoever among you knows this in secret, please inform my master to go up to the hall so that I may seize the demon.’ The monster, as it turned out, was skilled at raising clouds and mist. Hearing the Great Sage’s words, he quickly pulled his hand away and leapt up to the Golden-Luan Precious Hall. The monk raised his Golden-Hooped Staff and swung at Tripitaka. Alas! Had it not been for calling in those gods, this one strike would have turned even twenty Tripitakas into minced flesh. By the grace of the assembled deities, who braced the iron cudgel, they said: ‘Great Sage, that monster can ride the clouds; he has already gone up to the hall.’ The Great Sage hurried to the hall, and the demon jumped down again, grabbed Tripitaka, and mixed himself back into the crowd, still impossible to tell apart.

The Great Sage felt displeased in his heart, and seeing Zhu Bajie smirking at his side, he grew angry: ‘What sort of fool are you now? You have two masters; you have one to summon, one to answer, and one to attend on—yet you are so delighted!’ Zhu Bajie laughed, ‘Brother, calling me dull, you are no less dull yourself. Master cannot recognize him, so why waste your effort? Bear this headache for a moment. Ask my master to recite that phrase. Sha Wujing and I will each hold on to one side and listen. If he cannot recite it, he must be a demon. What is the trouble in that?’ The Great Sage said, ‘Brother, you are no better. It is true that only three know that utterance. The Buddha of the Law emitted it from the seed of his own mind, passed it to Guanyin Bodhisattva, and Guanyin passed it to my master; no one else came to know it afterwards. All right then—Master, recite.’ So Tripitaka began to recite. What could that demon know? His mouth gave only rough, incoherent hums. Zhu Bajie said, ‘That grumbling is the demon indeed.’ He released Tripitaka, raised the halberd, and moved to strike. The demon-king vaulted up, stepped on cloud-head, and fled.

Good fellow Bajie shouted once and at once mounted his cloud-head in pursuit. In the confusion Sha Wujing dropped Tripitaka and drew his Precious Staff to strike. Only then did Tripitaka stop the spell. Sun Great Sage endured his throbbing head and held tight the iron staff, chasing through the air. Aha! This was the scene: three ferocious monks surrounding one riotous demon. The demon king was being attacked from both sides, pinned down by Zhu Bajie with his spiked halberd and Sha Wujing with his Precious Staff. The Great Sage laughed: ‘I’m going again to strike him face to face. He is a little afraid of me; I only fear he might run off again. Let this old Sun leap higher, give him a crushing blow as if pounding garlic, and end him there.’

The Great Sage released auspicious light, shot up to the ninth heaven, and was just about to descend with a killing stroke when, in the northeast, within a colorful cloud, a harsh voice called out: ‘Sun Wukong, stop striking for now.’ Wukong turned and saw it was Bodhisattva Manjushri. He quickly lowered the staff, came forward, and paid respect: ‘Bodhisattva, where are you going?’ Manjushri said, ‘I have come to capture this demon for you.’ Wukong replied, ‘You need not have troubled yourself.’ The bodhisattva drew a monster-seeing mirror from his sleeve and held it to the demon’s true form. Then the Great Sage beckoned Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing to come together and bow before the bodhisattva. Through the mirror the demon king appeared horribly wild:

Eyes like crystal goblets, A head like a kiln-brazier vessel, His body steeped in deep indigo, Four claws rimed with nine autumns of frost, Two ears spread wide apart, One tail long as a broom, Blue-black fur bristling with keen force, Red eyes flinging out golden light, Rows of blunt teeth like jade boards, Round whiskers stiff and hard as spears. In the true image of the mirror, he was indeed Manjushri’s lion-prince.

The Great Sage said, ‘Bodhisattva, this is one of the blue-maned lions that once lay beneath you. How could he have gone away and become a spirit-form without your subduing him?’ Manjushri said, ‘Wukong, he did not run away. He was sent here by the Buddha’s decree.’ Wukong said, ‘This beastly creature, when he became a spirit and usurped the imperial seat, says he also comes on the Buddha’s orders. If he suffers because Old Sun saved Tripitaka through hardship, then should he not receive a few decrees to that effect?’ Manjushri said, ‘You do not understand. In former times the king of Wuji was a monk with a pure alms-bowl heart. The Buddha sent me to guide him west to complete his course and quickly attain the golden-body arhat state. Since my true form could not be shown to him directly, I took on the form of a common monk and asked him for some offered food. Because of a few words of mine, he misunderstood and thought me an evil man, tied me with a rope, and sent me into the Imperial Water River to be immersed for three days and three nights. By the grace of the Liu Jia Golden Body, I was saved and returned west and reported to the Buddha. The Buddha then ordered this monster to bring him here, push him into a well, and keep him submerged for three years, to repay his three-day flood-grievance. ‘With every drink and every bite, nothing comes outside destiny.’ Now that you have all come here, the merit is fulfilled.’ Wukong said, ‘You may have repaid a private grudge of ‘one sip, one peck,’ but how many people has that monster harmed or not harmed, who can say?’ Manjushri said, ‘He has harmed none. Ever since he came, in these three years the weather has been timely, the winds and rains propitious, and the realm prosperous and at peace. What harm is there?’ Wukong said, ‘That may be so, but for three palace ladies to sleep and rise with him, they still tainted his body and ruined countless standards of order and ethics—can that still be called harmless?’ Manjushri said, ‘They did not taint him; he is but a gelded lion.’ Hearing this, Zhu Bajie came nearer and gave him a quick test of touch, then laughed: ‘This demon spirit is truly a foul-nosed one who does not drink wine—an undeserved name indeed.’ Wukong said, ‘In that case, take him away. If the bodhisattva had not come in person, we would not have spared his life.’

The bodhisattva still recited a spell and shouted, ‘Beast, you have not returned to the path—what are you waiting for?’ Only then did the demon king show his true form. Manjushri settled a lotus-covering spell upon him, fixed the demon down, and sat upon his back. He stepped onto auspicious light and took leave of the Great Sage. Ah!

He turned straight toward Mount Wutai and went up there, Beneath the Precious Lotus Seat, listening to the teaching of the scriptures.

At any rate, we do not yet know how Tripitaka and his disciples left the city. Listen then to the resolution in the next installment.