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.

Poem:

Seeking the scripture to clear the way westward, countless renowned mountains do not cease. Rabbits run and crows fly, driving onward by day and by night; birds cry and flowers fall, from spring through autumn. In a mote beneath the eye stand three thousand realms; at the end of the staff’s point are four hundred states. Resting on water, feeding on wind, I ascend the violet road—who can tell on what day the turning-back comes.

It is said that Tripitaka was fortunate indeed, for the Dragon-son had subdued the monster, and the Black Water River God opened the way, so the masters and disciples crossed the Black Water River and followed the grand road straight on westward. It was truly a journey of wind and snow, with moon and stars overhead. After traveling some way, early spring weather arrived. They saw:

Three yangs turn their course, and a thousand things shine. Three yangs shift and turn, and the sky is all bright, a world drawn in color and light. All things shine forth, and the earth is a bed of fragrant blossoms like brocade. Scattered remains of plum blossom, with only a few flecks of snow; wheat rises up like a drifting bank of cloud. The ice gradually breaks, mountain springs begin to flow; every sprout bursts forth with no trace of burnt scars. Exactly then, as the saying goes: Taihao rides the tremor, and Goumang directs the heavenly hours; floral scent and warm wind, pale clouds, and a new brightness of sunlight; along the roadside, willows unclose their green eyes, while soft rain nourishes spring in all things.

The disciples moved along the road, roaming and watching the scenery, riding at an easy pace. Suddenly they heard a roar so loud it seemed as if ten thousand people were shouting together. Tripitaka was frightened within and caught his horse, unable to move forward, then hurriedly turned and said, "Wukong, from where does that thunder in the ears come?" Zhu Bajie said, "It is like the splitting of a mountain and the breaking of the earth." Sha Wujing said, "It is like thunder crashing in a storm." Tripitaka said, "Still it is human voices and horses braying." Sun Wukong laughed: "You cannot guess. Wait a bit; let me see what it is."

Sun Wukong leapt up, stepped onto the cloud light, and came up into the air. Opening his eyes, he saw far off a city. As he drew nearer, faint auspicious radiance could be seen, and there was no sign of violent evil qi at all. Inwardly he murmured, "A fine place indeed, so why this clamorous din? In that city there are no banners or spears and maces, and it is not cannon fire making that racket. Why then this uproar of people and horses?" Before he had finished guessing, he saw on a stretch of sandy riverbank outside the city gate that many monks had gathered together, all pulling at carts. It turned out they were calling out in one forceful voice, chanting, "Great-Strength King Bodhisattva," which was what startled Tripitaka.

Sun Wukong slowly came down from the cloud to look more closely. Alas! the carts were loaded with brick, tile, timber, and sun-dried earth blocks. The embankment at the bank’s edge rose highest, and there was a narrow ridged path between two gates. The road below the passes was a sheer cliff, steep as a wall. How could those carts be hauled upward? Though the weather was mild, those people wore blue-blue garments and looked quite constrained and straitened. Sun Wukong privately wondered, "They must be building a monastery temple. This land is blessed with five grains and abundant harvests, yet they cannot find lay laborers, so these monks themselves pull with all their strength." Before the thought settled, he saw the city gate sway and two young male Taoist priests come out. See how they were dressed:

Their headgear was a starry crown, with splendid light; Their robes were embroidered, as if robes of colored clouds. Their feet wore cloud-toed boots, and their waist carried polished silk cords. Faces bright as full moons, clever and handsome; figures like fair celestial guests of Jade Heaven. The monks saw the Taoists arrive, and each one grew terrified and pulled all the harder at the carts. Sun Wukong understood then: "Ah! these monks must fear those Taoists, otherwise why would they strain so to drag? I have heard tell that somewhere on the western road there is a place where Taoists honor the Way and extinguish monasteries; surely this must be it. I should report this to the Master, but the matter is unclear; if I return first and stir questions, I might invite trouble. As one who is clever, I should at least probe for the truth. I’ll wait and find out, then return with clear words."

He asked himself whom to question. The Great Sage landed, went to the foot of the city gate, changed form, and became a wandering Quanzhen layman. On his left arm hung a basket for water and fire, in his hand he tapped a fish-drum, and with his mouth he sang Daoist song-pleas. Coming near the gate, he met the two Taoists and, facing them, bowed low: "Master Daoist, this poor monk sets out in greeting." One Taoist replied, "Sir, from where do you come?" Sun Wukong said, "My disciple roams along the edges of the seas and drifts at the ends of the world. This morning I came here to seek out men of kindness. I ask the two of you: in this city, which street is most suitable for the Way, and which lane has worthy men? I, this poor monk, wish to accept alms and partake of alms food." The Taoist laughed: "You, sir, why speak so bleakly?" Sun Wukong asked, "What is bleak in this?" The Taoist said, "You ask for alms food, and still call that not bleak?" Sun Wukong said, "A monk begs and asks to accept alms, yet not to receive alms-food—how does one then get money to buy provisions?" The Taoist laughed: "You come from afar and do not know this city. In this city, not only are civil and military officials fond of the Way; rich elders and householders love the worthy; young and old men and women all come to request and receive offerings. No one needs to be told details. At the top rank is the Jade Emperor of ten-thousands years—the king himself—who loves the Way and cherishes the worthy."

Sun Wukong said, "I, poor monk that I am, am both young and newly arrived from far away, and truly ignorant. Please, both of you, explain in full the names of this place, and the matter of the king’s devotion to the Way and favor toward the worthy, that I may see the fellow feeling of co-followers." The Taoist said, "This city is called the Kingdom of Chechi. In the Hall of Treasures our king and our household are bound by kinship." Hearing this, Sun Wukong chuckled: "Then are you the Taoists who became emperors?" The other replied, "Not so. Twenty years ago the people suffered extreme drought. Rain did not fall, and the grain shoots failed on the ground. Court, ministers, and common people alike, all households in distress—every household burned incense and bathed in prayers for rain. At the very brink of life by means of reverse hanging and hanging on by a thread, three immortal elders suddenly descended from heaven to rescue living beings." Sun Wukong asked, "Who are those three immortals?" The Taoist said, "They are my teachers." Sun Wukong said, "What are their great names?" The Taoist replied, "My eldest master is called Tiger-Power Immortal, the second Deer-Power Immortal, and the third Sheep-Power Immortal." Sun Wukong asked, "How much power do your three honored masters possess?" The Taoist said, "My master can call wind and summon rain with a mere turn of the palm. He can point to water and make it oil, touch stone and make gold—such ease as turning the body. With such arts he can seize Heaven and Earth’s patterns, and alter the subtle mysteries of stars and constellations; therefore king and officials all honor us and have entered into kinship with us."

Sun Wukong said, "This emperor is greatly gifted in creation. As the saying goes, 'By a ritual art he can move the lords and ministers.' With skills like your master’s, he did no wrong in taking this kinship. Alas, I know not whether this poor monk, through a little strand of destiny, can win even one chance to see those honored teachers. The Taoist smiled and said, "If you wish to see my teachers, what is difficult? These two of us are close disciples with breast to back flesh-touching devotion. And my teachers, fond of the Way and of virtue, will open the great gate for one who merely utters the word 'Dao', so if these two escort you in, it is as effortless as clearing ashes." Sun Wukong sang out a deep bow: "I much appreciate your recommendation. Let us go in at once." The Taoist said, "Wait a moment. Sit here while we attend to our work; when we have done it, we shall go with you in." Sun Wukong said, "A monk is unbound and free by nature; what business is this?" The Taoist pointed to those monks on the sandy bank: "He is doing the household labor of my place. I fear he may dodge and laze. We are going to check him once, then return." Sun Wukong laughed: "Master Daoist, you err. Monks and Taoists are both ordained people; why should this monk do your labor and have us check the hour we rise?" The Taoist said, "You do not know. In the days of calling for rain, monks prayed to Buddha on one side and Taoists divined heaven and earth on the other; all petitioned for court grain. That monk, it turned out, was useless: empty recitations, empty scriptures, unable to aid in affairs. Then when my master arrived, he called wind and rain and saved the people from the fires of the masses. The court then grew angry and declared that monk useless, tore down his gate, destroyed his Buddha images, revoked his passport of ordination, would not let him return home, and granted him to our household to labor, like a house servant. He is the one who now tends our fire, sweeps our floors, and handles our head gate. Since the rear quarters of the house are not yet finished, he was brought to haul brick, drag timber, and build halls. Fearing he is fond of guile and prone to sloth, refusing to pull a cart, we sent these two to check him a few times and see to it."

When Sun Wukong heard this, he held the Taoist’s sleeve and spoke with tears: "I have said I am without kin, truly without kin; I cannot get to see the revered face of my teacher." The Taoist said, "How is it that you cannot see?" Sun Wukong replied, "I travel in the clouds and waters above, partly for my own life and safety, partly to seek a relative." The Taoist asked, "What relative have you?" Sun Wukong said, "I have an uncle who entered the cloister from childhood and cut his hair to become a monk. During the famine of past years he came out to beg for food. These past years he has not returned home. I remember the merit of the ancestors and have come to search for him at this opportunity. It must be that he was delayed in these places and could not free himself; I cannot know. If I find him, and can see him once, then I may enter city with you." The Taoist said, "That is easy enough. Let these two of us sit here for a moment, and I beg you to go up to the beach and count among the monks—five hundred is enough. See if among them is your uncle. If it is indeed so, then seeing the relation along the road, we will release him and then take you in to enter the city."

Sun Wukong thanked them beyond words, gave a deep bow, bade farewell to the Daoist, tapped his fishing drum, and went straight to the beach. Passing Double-Threshold, he came down the ridge. All the monks there knelt and knocked their heads in prostration: 'Sir, we have not hidden away by laziness; all five hundred of us are here without one missing, standing by this cart-road.' Sun Wukong saw it and laughed inwardly: 'These monks were beaten into submission by the Daoists, so at the sight of me as this false Daoist they are shaken and afraid. If I were a real Daoist, there would be no way for even the Dao to keep him alive.' He waved them off again: 'Do not kneel. Do not fear. I am not a superintendent; I came here in search of my kin.' When the monks heard he was there to recognize relatives, they closed in a circle and brought him up among them. One by one they came out and showed themselves, coughing and making racket, eager to be acknowledged. 'We do not know which one is kin,' they said. Sun Wukong looked for a while and then laughed aloud. 'Why should I laugh?' they asked. 'You do not recognize your kin.' Sun Wukong replied, 'Do you know why I laugh? I laugh because not one of you monks is handsome. When your parents gave you birth, you must all have offended the Hua-gai star, either harming your fathers and mothers or never likely to take sisters, so they cut you off and sent you into monkhood. Why do you not keep the Three Jewels, why fail to honor the Dharma, why not read sutras or make confession, yet you serve the Daoists as drudges and run errands as bonded servants?' The monks said, 'Sir, you come to mock us. You seem to be from outside, not knowing the dangers of this place.' Sun Wukong answered, 'If I truly were from elsewhere, I still know nothing of the perils here.'

The monks wiped away tears and said, 'In this country the king is partial and lawless, fond only of your kind, yet he torments us, the Buddha’s children.' Sun Wukong asked, 'Why are you here?' They said, 'Because three Immortal Elders came here calling wind and rain and destroyed us, duping the king. They broke our monasteries, chased away the ordination certificates, and would not allow us to return home. They also would not let us serve as laborers in any office; instead they ordered us into the Daoist masters’ households. The hardship is unbearable. But if a wandering Daoist arrives, he is invited up and rewarded by the court. If a monk comes, near or far, he is seized and sent off as a laborer for a Daoist household.' Sun Wukong said, 'Then those Daoists must have some trickery that enticed the king. If all they can do is call wind and rain, that is little more than side-path magic—how could it move the heart of a ruler?' The monks said, 'He can manipulate and ball sand, refine mercury, sit still and preserve spirit, point and make water into oil, tap stone and make it gold. Now he has raised the Three-Perfects’ temple and reads sutras and confessions by day and by night before heaven and earth, praying that the king live for ten thousand years. So he has bewitched the king’s mind.'

Sun Wukong said, 'In that case, you might as well leave.' The monks answered, 'Sir, we cannot. That Immortal Elder petitioned and obtained the king’s order, had our likenesses and full-body portraits painted, and hung them across the four quarters. His reach across Chachi’s lands is wide; every prefecture, county, village, and market in every district has one of these monk portraits, with the emperor’s own writing on them. Whoever is an official and catches one monk rises three ranks; whoever has no office and catches one receives fifty taels of silver. So we cannot escape. It is not only the monks; even men with shaven foreheads, cropped hair, or sparse beards cannot get away. Swift hands are everywhere, the net of arresting officers is broad; however you struggle, escape is impossible. We have no remedy and so only endure this bitterness here.'

Sun Wukong said, 'If that is so, then better to die.' The monks replied, 'Sir, there are those who have died. From all over they were seized and brought here; together with the monks of this place there are over two thousand among us. Here we cannot bear the misery, cannot endure the heat or torments, cannot stand the cold, cannot endure this water and this soil. Six or seven hundred have died, and seven or eight hundred more have ended themselves. Only these five hundred of us will not die.' Sun Wukong asked, 'How is it that you cannot die?' They said, 'If one hangs from a beam, the rope snaps; if one cuts the throat, there is no pain. Those who throw themselves in the river float up instead of sinking. Those who take poison do not feel harm.' Sun Wukong replied, 'So your destiny is odd: Heaven has granted you long life.' The monks said, 'Sir, you have missed one character: it is not long life, it is long punishment of sins.' They continued, 'We eat three coarse meals a day, thin gruel boiled from broken rice. At night we shelter only on the open beach. As soon as we close our eyes, there are heavenly men who come to guard us.' Sun Wukong said, 'You have been too troubled and now see ghosts, then?' The monks said, 'Not ghosts, but the Six Ding and Six Jia, the guardians of the Dharma and monasteries. When night comes they come to protect us. If one is about to die, they keep him in place and will not allow him to die.' Sun Wukong said, 'These spirits understand nothing. They should make you die early and soon be born in heaven, yet they protect you from dying. Why would they do that?' The monks said, 'In our dreams they counsel us: do not seek death; suffer and endure. Wait for the Arhat monk of Great Tang who travels west to fetch the scriptures in the Great Tang. One of his disciples is Great Sage Sun Wukong, whose powers are vast and whose heart clings to loyal righteousness. He sets right injustices among people, rescues those in trouble, lifts the fallen, and cares for the forlorn. He is only waiting to come and display his divine powers, destroy the Daoists, and restore honor to your monastic tradition.'

When Sun Wukong heard this, he laughed inwardly and thought, 'Do not say Old Monkey lacks means; his prior renown was no accident.' He quickly withdrew, tapped his fish drum, left the monks, and went straight to the city gate where he saw the Daoists. One said as he came up, 'Sir, which among them is your relative?' Sun Wukong said, 'Each of the five hundred is kin to me.' Both Daoists laughed and said, 'How can you have so many relatives?' Sun Wukong said, 'A hundred are my left neighbors, a hundred my right neighbors, a hundred from my father’s clan, a hundred from my mother’s clan, and a hundred my sworn companions. If you release all five hundred, then I will enter; if you do not, I will not.' The Daoist said, 'You are clearly suffering a wind disease in your head and speaking nonsense at random. Those monks are gifts of the king himself. If even one or two were released, we would still have to submit a statement of illness to our master, then have them formally recorded as dead; only then is it complete. How can you speak of releasing all of them? This does not stand. Even if no one at my house could summon me, the court would still fault me. Why, officials may be sent to investigate, and at times the Emperor himself may come in person to sign warrants. How could I dare to let them go?' Sun Wukong asked, 'Would you not release them?' The Daoist said, 'Not so!' Sun Wukong asked again and again. In his anger he drew out the iron cudgel from his ear, gave it a quick turn against the wind, made it thick then slim in a single motion, and gave one sweeping flash across the Daoist’s face. Wretchedly, he was struck till blood flowed from his broken head and he fell, his skin torn, neck twisted, brains spilled.

From the beach, the monks saw from afar that he had killed two Daoists and dropped the cart, and they ran up crying, 'Disaster! disaster! He has killed a royal relative!' Sun Wukong asked, 'Which one is the royal relative?' They closed in around him with a winnowing-basket array and said, 'His master never bows at court, never leaves before his lord; the court always calls him “National Master Elder Brother.” How did you come here to create trouble? His disciple came out as a supervisor, and you had nothing to do with him, yet you have killed him. The Immortal Elder did not say it was you who struck him down, only that he had come to supervise here. We have only brought misfortune on our own lives. Come with us into the city and let it be settled with the matter of this death.' Sun Wukong laughed, 'Do not shout, gentlemen. I am not a wandering Quanzhen recluse; I came to save you.' The monks said, 'You did kill; you have ruined us and added to our burden. How is that saving us?' Sun Wukong said, 'I am Sun Wukong the Traveler, disciple of the Great Tang Buddha Monk. I have come on purpose to save your lives.' The monks said, 'No, no. That elder sir, we recognize him.' Sun Wukong said, 'I have never met him; how could you recognize me then?' The monks said, 'In dreams we once saw an old man who called himself Taibai Jinxing. He would always admonish us and say that the appearance of Sun Wukong must not be mistaken.' Sun Wukong heard this, in both anger and joy. In joy he thought, 'Tell this message of Old Monkey.' In anger he thought, 'That old trickster, so lazy, has exposed my true form to these mundane men.' Then he spoke aloud, 'You men are right: I am not Sun Wukong. I am a disciple of Sun Wukong, come here to blunder in and play up some mischief. Could anyone else have come but Sun Wukong?' He pointed to the east with his hand, tricking the monks into turning their heads, and then he revealed his true form. The monks now recognized him; one by one they prostrated fully. 'Grandfather, with our ordinary flesh and blood eyes we failed to see your divine manifestation. Beg you, clear our resentment and remove our calamity, and let us enter the city to exorcise evil and return to the correct path.' Sun Wukong said, 'Come with me then.' The monks followed him close at hand all the way.

Then the Great Sage came up to the riverbank and, using his powers, pulled the cart across the two passes, through the ridge, lifted it up, and smashed it to pieces. He flung the bricks, tiles, and timber down the slope. He shouted to the monks: 'Scatter. Keep your distance from my hands and feet. I will see this emperor tomorrow and destroy that Taoist.' The monks said, 'Sir, we dare not run far, but if the official seizes us and drags us off, we will be beaten and fined, and then calamity will return.' Wukong said, 'If so, I will give you a protective method.' The Great Sage plucked out a handful of hairs, chewed them to powder, and gave each monk one piece. He told them: 'Put it in the crevice of your ring-finger nail, keep your hand in a fist, and just walk. No one can dare to grab you and do nothing will happen; if someone seizes you, clench your fist and cry, "Great Sage Equal to Heaven," and I shall come to protect you.' The monks asked, 'Sir, if we go far away and cannot see you, and our call does not reach you, what then?' Wuking said, 'Just keep your heart steady. Even at ten thousand li, I can keep you safe.' Some monks of stout heart pressed the nail with a clenched fist and quietly called out, 'Great Sage Equal to Heaven!' Immediately a Dragon King stood before them, staff in hand; even ten thousand troops and horses could not come near. At that moment a hundred and ten voices roared together, and there were indeed about a hundred and ten Great Sages protecting them. The monks knelt and said, 'Sir, your powers are truly manifest.' Wukong again ordered, 'Call out the word 'Dao', some standing—scattered in all quarters; no further account was needed.

But Tripitaka, waiting by the roadside, could not wait for Wukong to return. He told Zhu Bajie to head west, where they met some monks running. Near the city they saw Wukong still with a dozen or so monks there who had not yet dispersed. Tripitaka pulled on the reins and said, 'Wukong, why did you go to inquire about this disturbance and stay so long without returning?' Wukong led those dozen or so monks forward, saluted before Tripitaka’s horse, and told him the whole matter. Tripitaka was greatly alarmed: 'Is this so? What will happen to us?' The monks replied, 'Your Excellency, be at ease. Great Sage Sun Wukong is a heavenly-born deity and his powers are vast. He will surely keep Your Excellency from harm. We are monks of Zhiyuan Temple in this city. This temple was built by the former King Ancestor, and his image remains inside, never destroyed. All the city’s monastic buildings, great and small, have all been torn down. We ask Your Excellency to enter the city quickly and come to our wild-mountain refuge; tomorrow at first audience, Great Sage Sun Wukong will make all arrangements.' Wukong said, 'What you say is right. Go in at once.'

Only then did the Elder dismount and walk to the city gate. By that time the sun had already set in the west. Passing the suspension bridge, he entered through the three gates. In the streets, people who saw the monks from Zhiyuan Temple leading horses and carrying packs all stepped aside. While he was walking, he came to the mountain gate. On it hung a high-bronze plaque with golden characters: 'Imperially Established Zhiyuan Temple.' The monks pushed open the gates, passed through the Vajra Hall, and opened the hall doors. Tripitaka draped his robe, bowed before the Golden Body image, and only then entered. The monks called out, 'Watch the household.' The chief monk came out. Seeing Wukong, he bowed: 'Sir, have you come?' Wukong said, 'You recognize me as that sir, and yet you greet me so?' That monk replied, 'I know you are Great Sage Sun Wukong. Every night we see you in our dreams. Taibai Jinxing often comes to deliver dreams, saying we could keep our lives only when you arrive. Today we have indeed seen your honored face, no different from what we saw in dreams. Sir, you have come in good time. Had you been delayed one or two more days, we all would have been ghosts.' Wukong laughed, 'Rise, rise. Tomorrow all will be understood at dawn.' The monks prepared a vegetarian meal, and the whole party ate. After cleaning everything in the abbot’s room, they rested for the night.

At the second watch Wukong had matters on his mind and could not sleep. He could hear music of drums and pipes from that direction. Quietly he rose, changed his clothing, and leapt into the air to look. It was all bright with lantern light to the south. Dropping his cloud lower, he looked carefully and found the Temple of the Three Pure Ones performing rites of star-atonement.

Spirit District, high hall; Blessed Earth, true hall. The spirit district’s high hall rises, vast and lofty like Penghu’s resplendent sight; The true hall of blessed ground is faintly clear like a palace of transformative music. On both sides Taoist adepts played flutes and reeds; before them a high lord held up a jade tablet. They proclaimed expiations to remove calamities and lectured on the Tao Te Ching. They raised dust and sent out talismans several times; after each utterance, all bowed and prostrated. Charm-water loosed an edict, the candle flames flickered and rose beyond this world; star-lines laid, star-dippers set, fragrant incense smoke permeated the bright sky. On the altar were fresh offerings; on the table stood a rich fast-day repast.

On the gate of the hall hung an embroidered gold-silk couplet with twenty-two large characters: "May wind and rain be in due order, wishing blessings for the Celestial Venerable’s immeasurable Dharma; may river and sea be clear and calm, and may there be endless years beneath the long life decree." Wukong saw three old Taoist immortals in ritual robes and thought they were Huli, Luli, and Yangli Immortals. Below stood seven or eight hundred scattered attendants—drum keepers, bell keepers, incense attendants, and petitioners making obeisance—standing on both sides. Wukong said to himself, glad, 'I want to go down and roughhouse with them, but with single thread and no line, one palm alone cannot make a sound. I’ll first return to watch Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, then all three of us will come and play.'

He stepped down from the cloud and came to the abbot’s room. There Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing were sleeping through and through. Wukong first called for Wujing first. When he woke, he said, 'Brother, you still have not slept?' Wukong said, 'You get up. I will share some food with you.' Sha Wujing replied, 'It is midnight, the third watch; my mouth is dry and my eyes sore. What food could we take?' Wukong said, 'In this city there is truly a Temple of the Three Pure Ones. In the Hall of the Three Pure Ones the Taoists hold many offerings: steamed buns as large as a dou, candied fruits weighing fifty to sixty jin each, countless bowls of rice, and fresh fruit. Come, take some and enjoy.' Then Zhu Bajie, hearing in his sleep that good food was being mentioned, woke and said, 'Brother, will you not take some for me too?' Wukong said, 'Brother, if you want to eat, do not shout or cry out and wake the Master. Come with me.'

The two of them put on robes and, quietly, walked out the doorway; following Wukong, they stepped upon the cloud and flew away. The pig saw the lantern light and wanted to move down. Wukong held him back: 'Not yet. Let them disperse, then you may go.' Zhu Bajie said, 'He is in the height of his chanting—how will he let himself be dispersed?' Wukong said, 'Wait. I will do one spell and he will disperse.' The Great Sage fingered his formula, spoke a spell, drew a breath from the xun direction and exhaled it. In one instant a gale rushed straight into the Hall of the Three Pure Ones, upending some flower vases and candlesticks and all the merit tablets hanging on the four walls; the hall lights went out. The Taoists were shaken with fear. Huli Immortal said, 'Disciples, everyone scatter. This gust of divine force has extinguished the lights, incense, and flowers. Each of you return to your quarters. At dawn recite a few more scriptures to make amends.' The Taoists, as he said, all withdrew.

Then Wukong led Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, descended from the cloud, and broke into the Hall of the Three Pure Ones. The pig, regardless of raw or cooked food, reached for the roasted fruit and bit into it. Wukong pulled out the staff and started striking. Zhu Bajie pulled back and dodged: 'You haven’t even let me taste anything yet, and already you strike!' Wukong said, 'Do not act like a small-town child. Sit first and take your proper seat.' Zhu Bajie said, 'Shameless—steal and eat, and still demand proper seating. If this were served openly, what then?' Wukong asked, 'What kind of bodhisattva is seated up there?' Zhu Bajie laughed: 'I cannot tell which is which among the Three Pure Ones; still, what bodhisattva is that?' Wukong said, 'Those three Pure Ones.' Zhu Bajie said, 'The one in the middle is Yuanshi Tianzun; the left is Lingbao Dongjun; the right is Taishang Laojun.' Wukong said, 'You must all become this way before we can eat in peace.' The pig grew impatient. Smelling the fragrant offerings, wanting to eat, he climbed the high platform, pulled down one statue and said, 'Old official, you have sat enough; let this old pig sit a moment.' Zhu Bajie turned into Taishang Laojun, Wukong turned into Yuanshi Tianzun, and Sha Wujing turned into Lingbao Dongjun. They pushed all the original images down.

When they sat, Zhu Bajie immediately grabbed the huge steamed bun and started eating. Wukong said, 'Do not be hasty.' Zhu Bajie said, 'Brother, after I have changed into this form, why should I not eat at once?' Wukong said, 'Brothers, eating is a small matter; revealing divine identities is a serious one. We have pushed these sacred images down to the ground. If a Taoist who rises early comes to ring the bell and sweep the floor, or even trips over one of the roots, the secret will leak out. Hide them off to one side.' Zhu Bajie said, 'This place is open and I can’t even touch a door—where can I hide them?' Wukong said, 'When I first entered, there was a small side door under my right hand. Inside is a foul-smelling room where people are penned; surely it is the place of the Five-Grain Cycle. Send them there.'

This imbecile had enough rough strength to leap down, pick up the three sacred images on his shoulder, and carry them out. He came to that side and, kicking the door open with his foot to look inside, found it to be a large east latrine. He laughed, "This Bima-wen is just the sort to chatter with tongue and tip, and he has even given a Daoist name to this hair pit, calling it something called, 'The Place of the Five-Grain Returning.'" That fool kept the images on his shoulder and did not put them down. In a grumbling murmur he prayed,

"Three Purities, Three Purities, listen as I speak: from afar I have come, accustomed to destroying demons and spirits. I wish to receive offerings but find no place of rest. Borrowing your seat, stay but briefly. Since you have sat there long, put down the dung pit for a while. By day you enjoy yourself endlessly, posing as a clean Daoist; here, today, if you must endure foul matter, then become even a heavenly lord who receives stench!" When the invocation ended, he gave one sudden jerk, and by chance splashed half of his garment hem with foul water, then walked back into the hall.

Sun Wukong asked, "Could it be hidden well?" Zhu Bajie said, "It can be hidden well, but he splashed up some water and has soiled his clothing with a rank, fetid stink. Don’t make a face." Sun Wukong laughed. "Very well, then come and enjoy yourselves. But I wonder whether we can step out with clean bodies." The fool changed back into Laojun and the three sat down to indulge freely. First they ate big buns, then heaped platters, rice side dishes, sweets, pan-fried bits, cakes, fried morsels, and steamed pastries. They did not care whether anything was hot or cold, and ate at will. Sun Wukong in fact did not eat much of such smoke-and-fire food; he only ate a few fruits, keeping company with the other two. That meal came and went like a meteor hurrying after the moon, wind-borne through ragged clouds; they ate it all up and there was nothing left. Not ready to leave yet, they stayed there, idly chatting, passing the time after eating.

Alas! There was such a matter. In truth, under the east corridor there was a young Daoist who had just fallen asleep; he suddenly woke and said, "I forgot my hand-bell in the hall. If it is lost, tomorrow the Master will rebuke me." He said to the one sleeping beside him, "You stay asleep; I’ll go look for it." In his hurry he donned no undergarment, only grabbed a plain robe collar, and hurried straight to the main hall to find the bell. He groped and groped until he touched it. Just as he was about to turn back, he heard a sound of breathing. Frightened, the Daoist hurriedly hurried outward, but somehow stepped on a lychee pit and slipped, falling with a crash. With a clanging sound, the bell was knocked to the ground and shattered to pieces. Zhu Bajie could not help but laugh out loud. The novice was so scared his three souls fled and his seven spirits came rushing back; step by step he stumbled, colliding outside the abbot’s chamber, and pounding the door cried, "Master, it is not good. A disaster has occurred." The three older Daoists had not yet gone to sleep. They opened the door and asked, "What disaster?" Trembling, he said, "The disciple forgot my hand-bell; I went to the hall to find it, and only heard someone laughing 'heh-heh,' and it nearly frightened me to death." The senior Daoist, hearing this, said at once, "Bring the lanterns—see what evil thing this is." At the call, the Daoists on both corridors were startled awake; big and small alike all rose, lit lanterns with fire, and went to the main hall to inspect.

How it all turned out is still unknown; listen, and it will be explained in the next chapter.