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.

Though many kinds are one in their original nature, all are naturally inclusive, like the sea with no bound. A thousand thoughts and myriad concerns always become delusion; every color and shade blends into harmony. On the day the work is complete and the course fulfilled, the complete clear Dharma-nature rises high and lofty. Do not let discrimination run east or west, bound fast in a tight cage. Gather it in and place it in the alchemical furnace; forge it till it glows red like a golden crow. Bright and resplendent, beauteously splendid, it may come and go riding the dragon at will.

Following the Bodhisattva’s command, Tripitaka gathered up Wukong, and together with Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing cut through all divided intention, chained the monkey and the horse, and with one heart and one effort pressed on toward the Western Heaven. Time is beyond telling: it goes like an arrow, the sun and moon like a shuttle. They had passed the searing summer heat, and yet they were meeting again the frosty scenes of the late third month. What they saw was:

Thin clouds were torn apart, and the west wind blew tight, Cranes cried among far ridges, the frost-touched woods like brocade. The scene was cold in spirit; the mountains grew long, and the rivers still longer. The southbound wild geese came to the northern frontier, the dark birds returned toward the southern ways. On the road of a traveller, loneliness was all one feared; a monk’s patched robe catches cold too easily.

As the four pilgrims moved forward, they gradually felt heat rising like steam from men. Tripitaka pulled up the white horse and said, “At this time it is autumn; how then is it so hot?” Pigsy said, “It seems we did not know. On the Western road there is a Śa-hā-lǐ Kingdom, said to be where the sun sets, commonly called the End of Heaven. If you arrive at the hour of shen-you, the king sends men to the city gate to beat drums and blow horns, a din mixed with the roar of a sea boiling. The sun is true fire itself and falls among the Western Sea; as if quenched in water it roars. Without the drums and horns to thrum the ears, it would instantly slay the children of the city. So this heat must be from that place of sunset.” When Wukong heard this he could not help but laugh. “Bǎi, stop babbling. As for Śa-hā-lǐ, you are quite early. With this way of the master changing from this to that, from youth to old and old to youth over three lifetimes, one still would not arrive.” Pigsy said, “Brother! If what you say is true, why is this so hot if it is not the place where the sun sets?” Sha Wujing said, “Perhaps it is because the time is wrong, and autumn is running by summer’s order.” The three continued to argue when they saw by the roadside an estate of red: red-tiled houses, walls of red brick, red-oiled fan handles, red-lacquered plank beds—everything was red. Tripitaka dismounted and said, “Wukong, go ask this household a question. See for what reason this is so hot.”

Wukong set aside his Golden-Hooped Staff, straightened his robes, and struck a refined air, then strode out to the road and went straight to the gate. From the gate suddenly came an old man. He looked as follows:

He wore a loose hemp robe, yellow-red yet not yellow and red, and a bluish-green hat woven of split reed straw, neither clearly blue nor clearly so. In his hand he leaned on a bamboo staff of hard knotted cane, bent yet straight and straight yet bent. On his feet were old-and-new shoes, neither new nor old. His face was like red bronze, his beard like white silk thread. Two long life-brows shaded green-blue eyes, and one broad-lipped grin showed golden teeth. The old man suddenly raised his head. On seeing Wukong he was startled, leaned on his cane, and barked, “What monster are you from where, and what business do you have at my gate?” Wukong bowed and answered, “Elder, do not fear me. I am no monster. I am a poor monk from Great Tang in the Eastern land, an imperial envoy seeking the sutras of the West. The four of us have just come to this treasure land; seeing the steam of heat, for one reason we do not know why, and for another because we do not know the place’s name, we have come to ask for guidance." The old man only then was at ease. He smiled and said, “Great senior, forgive me. My eyes were fleetingly dim and did not recognize your worthy face.” Wukong said, “I dare not.” The old man asked, “Where is your master’s road?” Wukong said, “Is it not on that great road at the southern entrance?” The old man said, “Please come, please come.” Wukong rejoiced. With one motion of his hand, Tripitaka, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing came up, guiding the white horse and carrying their baggage, and all three made obeisance to the old man.

The old man, seeing Tripitaka’s graceful bearing and appearance, and seeing the unusual features of Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, was surprised and pleased. He could only invite them in, had them sit, told the younger ones to brew tea, and set another hall for food. Hearing him speak, Tripitaka rose in thanks and said, “May I ask, esteemed sir: you call this place what in autumn heat is still scorching. Why is it so hot?” The old man said, “Our land is called Huoyan Mountain. It has no spring and no autumn; all four seasons are hot.” Tripitaka asked, “Where is Huoyan Mountain then? Can it block the road westward?” The old man said, “You cannot go west by that way. The mountain lies sixty li from here, directly on the required western route, but there are eight hundred li of flame all around, and no grass grows on all four sides. If one were to cross it, even one with a copper skull and an iron body would be melted into gruel.” When Tripitaka heard this, he was pale with fright and dared ask no more.

Just outside the gate a young man was standing by, pushing a red cart, crying, “Cakes for sale.” Wukong plucked a hair and changed it into a copper coin, then bought a cake from him. The man took it without judging its quality, lifted the covering from the cart, and hot steam rose up. He brought out a cake and handed it to Wukong. Wukong held it in his hand; it was like a heated ember from fire, like a red nail in a coal furnace. He kept shifting it from left to right and right to left, saying, “Hot, hot, hot—hard to eat, hard to eat!” The young man laughed. “If it is too hot, do not come here. This is truly that kind of heat.” Wukong said, “You man lacks understanding. There is a saying: ‘When there is neither cold nor heat, the five grains do not ripen.’ It is so hot here indeed—where does your cake flour come from?” The young man said, “If you ask about flour and rice for cake, ask for Tie-shan Xian.” Wukong said, “How should I know Tie-shan Xian?” The young man said, “Tie-shan Xian has a banana-leaf fan in her hand. One stroke stills the flames, two stir wind, three make rain. Then we can sow and harvest in our fields in time and keep grain alive. Without it, truly not even a blade of grass could grow.”

After hearing him, Wukong quickly walked inside and handed the cake to Tripitaka: “Master, do not worry and do not be burned through another year. Eat it first, and then I will tell you.” Tripitaka took the cake in hand and said to the old householder, “Elder, please accept the cake.” The old man said, “My tea and food have not yet been offered. How could I dare eat your cake?” Wukong laughed. “Elder, tea and food are not needed. I ask you this: where does Tie-shan Xian reside?” The old man asked, “Why do you ask about him?” Wukong said, “The cake seller said that this immortal carries a banana-leaf fan. With one wave it quenches fire, with two it raises wind, with three it brings rain; thus this place can sow and harvest in season and have grain to live by. I want to seek him, take the fan, cross the flame-mountain fire, and make this land able to sow and gather in season and live in peace.” The old man said, “There is indeed such a tale, but you have no gifts, and that holy figure may refuse to come.” Tripitaka asked, “What gifts does he require?” The old man said, “In our families, once in ten years one is granted an audience. Four pigs and four sheep, red-dyed silk and brocade, strange incense, seasonal fruit, chickens and geese, fine wine; bathe with reverence, worship with sincerity, bow up to that immortal mountain and ask him to leave his cave and come here to bestow this aid.” Wukong said, “Where does that mountain stand, what is it called, and how many li away? I need to ask him for the fan.” The old man said, “That mountain is in the southwest, called Cuiyun Mountain. In it there is a cave called Bajiao Cave. From here the worshippers must worship there and then take a month to return, about one thousand four hundred and sixty li.” Wukong laughed, “No matter; I will go and come.” The old man said, “Wait—at least eat some tea and food, prepare dried rations, and take two companions. That road has no households and has many wolves and tigers; it cannot be reached in one day. Do not make this into a game.” Wukong laughed, “No need, no need. I will go now.” At once he spoke and vanished. The old man, flustered, cried, “My lord! He was truly a divine man riding clouds and driving mist.”

We need not continue with how this family honored Tripitaka all the more. As for Wukong, he at once went straight to Cuiyun Mountain, calmed his radiant light, and was searching for the cave opening when he heard a ding-ding sound; it was a woodcutter sawing and hacking in the woodland. Wukong stepped forward. Again he heard this from him:

Near the cloud-edge, the old woodland is dimly known; at broken cliffs, overgrown weeds, the path is hard to find. On the western hills one can see the rain from the morning windward, and at the south ravine, when one returns, the ford is deep. Wukong came near and paid respect: “Woodcutter brother, greetings.” The woodcutter set down his axe and, in answering, returned the courtesy: “Where is the abbott going?” Wukong said, “If I may ask, is this Cuiyun Mountain?” The woodcutter said, “It is exactly.” Wukong said, “Where is the Bajiao Cave of Tie-shan Xian?” The woodcutter laughed. “Though this Bajiao Cave exists, it has no Tie-shan Xian, only an Iron Fan Princess, also named Luocha Nü.” Wukong said, “People say she has a banana fan and can extinguish Huoyan Mountain. Is that she?” The woodcutter said, “Exactly. This saint indeed has that precious thing and can put out fire, protecting the households of this land, thus is called Tie-shan Xian. Around here no one has use of him; they only know her as Luocha Nü, the wife of the Great-Strength Ox-demon King.”

When the Traveler heard this, he was greatly startled and turned white in the face. Inwardly he thought, “Another round of revenge now. Years ago I overpowered Red Boy, and they said this one had raised him. Previously, at Poxie Cave below Jieyang Mountain, I met his uncle and he still would not even give water, meaning to seek revenge; now I have met his parents as well—how can I borrow this fan here?” Seeing Wukong fall into brooding silence, the woodcutter sighed repeatedly and then laughed, “Elder, you are a monk; why so full of anxiety? This path runs east. In no more than five or six li is Banana-leaf Cave. Don’t let your heart burn.” Wukong said, “I will not hide it from you, Woodcutter Brother. I am Sun Wukong, the Tang monk’s senior disciple, sent from the Tang court of the Eastern Land to journey west for the sutras. Last year at Fire-Cloud Cave I had words with the Rakshasa’s son Hong Hai-er. I fear the rakshasa still bears a grudge and may not lend himself to me, so this worry arose.” The woodcutter said, “A true man reads face and manner and goes by the name of borrowing a fan. Do not mistake old words for truth, and you are bound to get it.” Wukong, hearing this, made a deep ceremonial bow and said, “Thank you for your guidance, Woodcutter Brother. I go.”

Then, leaving the woodcutter, he came straight to the mouth of Banana-leaf Cave. He saw the two cave doors tightly closed and bolted, while the scenery outside was beautiful. It was truly a fine place, and indeed:

The mountain has stone for bone, and stone gives soul to earth. Mist and sunset clouds hold old dampness, and moss helps new green bloom. Jagged and towering, the ridges rise, proud as though challenging Peng Island. In the quiet silence, flower fragrance lies like the sea wind. A few stately pines shelter wild cranes; a few withered willows whisper with mountain orioles. Truly it is a thousand-year relic, an immortal trace of ten-thousand years. Blue phoenixes cry beneath lustrous parasol-boughs, living water hides a green dragon. Curving paths hang with creeping ivy; stone stairs are wrapped in vines and kudzu. Ape cries rise from jade cliffs, happy for moonlight above; birds cry in tall trees, delighted in clear skies. Two bamboo groves cool one like rain, a path of flowers thick as embroidered velvet. Then one sees white clouds from far ridges, without fixed shape, wandering with the wind. Sun Wukong called out, “Brother Niu, open the door, open the door.” With a sharp crack the cave-mouth opened, and a young maiden came out, holding a basket of flowers in one hand and a hoe over her shoulder. She was all blue-brocade unadorned, plain and plainhearted, her face full of vigor and a sense of the Dao. Sun Wukong stepped forward, joined his palms, and said, “Girl, run and report to the princess: I am a monk on the western pilgrimage. I passed through Flaming Mountain and have come to borrow the Banana-leaf Fan for one use.” The hair-girl said, “What temple’s monk are you? What name do you bear? Tell me so I may report you properly.” Wukong said, “I come from the Eastern Land, and my name is monk Sun Wukong.”

The hair-girl turned at once and returned to the cave, then knelt before the Rakshasa and said, “Grandmother, there is a monk named Sun Wukong from the Eastern Land waiting outside the cave. He asks to see you and to borrow the Banana-leaf Fan for crossing Flaming Mountain.” When the Rakshasa heard the words “Sun Wukong,” it was as if salt were cast into fire and oil poured on the flames; her whole face flamed red, fury blazing in her chest. She spit out, “That rude monkey! He has come today!” She called, “Maid, bring my armor. Fetch weapons.” Immediately she took out her surcoat, and two emerald-edged jewel swords were brought. Wukong slipped to the side of the cave-mouth and stole a glance at how she dressed. He saw:

A round flowered handkerchief wraps her head. A rich cloud-hued brocade robe is worn upon her body. A tiger-sinew sash is tied at her waist; an embroidered skirt and light scarf part the robe. Her phoenix-beaked shoes are three inches. Dragon-whisker-tipped knee-tights with golden fasteners. She lifts the jewel swords with raised voice. Fierce in face, she is a monstrous beauty.

The Rakshasa came out and shouted, “Where is Sun Wukong?” Wukong stepped forward and bowed, “Sister-in-law, old Sun is here to make obeisance.” The Rakshasa snapped, “Who is your sister-in-law, and who is it you are to bow to?” Wukong said, “In your noble house is Niu Mo Wang, who once made sworn-brother vows with old Sun and is counted among the seven brotherhood ties. Now that I hear the princess is under Brother Niu’s command, how could I not call you sister-in-law?” The Rakshasa said, “You impudent monkey! If you claim brotherly bonds, how did you trap my son?” Wukong asked, feigning ignorance, “Who is your son?” She replied, “My son is Hong Hai-er, Holy Infant Great King of Fire-Cloud Cave in Wugon Valley of the Dry-Pine Mountain, called the Red Boy. You overthrew him; we have nowhere to pursue revenge but to come for you. Now you come to give up your life at my gate; could I spare you?” Wukong smiled broadly and said, “Sister-in-law did not understand the order of things and wrongly blamed old Sun. Your son captured our Master to steam and boil him; luckily Avalokiteśvara Guanyin took him in and saved my Master. He now serves at Guanyin’s side as Shancai Tongzi, has attained true bodhisattva fruit, neither born nor extinguished, neither pure nor impure, long-lived with heaven and earth and enduring as sun and moon. Yet you do not thank old Sun for saving your life and turn to blame him—what is the meaning of that?” The Rakshasa snarled, “You crafty-tongued monkey! Though my life was not broken, as long as you ever come near me, when will you let me see you once?” Wukong laughed, “What is hard for sister-in-law to see your son? First lend me the fan, and let me winnow the flames so I can send my Master through. Then I will go to the Southern Sea Bodhisattva and ask him to come and see you, and I will return the fan to you. What is impossible in that?” He added, “Then see if he has any wound at all; if even a single hair is harmed, you may be right to blame me. If he is as handsome as before, you should thank me.” The Rakshasa said, “Impudent monkey! Speak less. Put out your head and I will strike you with several sword-strokes. If you endure the pain, you shall have the fan; if you cannot bear it, I’ll send you quickly to King Yama.” Wukong folded his palms and stepped forward, “Sister-in-law, do not speak much. Old Sun can bare his shining head and bear whatever number of slashes you choose, and when he lacks strength, that is enough. I simply must borrow the fan to use.” The Rakshasa would not wait for him to finish. She raised both hands and flashed the sword against Wukong’s head with clanging blows—ten or more times—but he did not take it seriously. Fearful now, she turned to leave. Wukong called, “Where are you going, sister-in-law? Lend it to me and let me use it at once.” She replied, “My treasure is not easily lent.” Wukong said, “If you will not lend it, I’ll give you one staff-beat for your old uncle.”

The good Monkey King, with one hand he grabbed her and with the other drew the staff from behind his ear; with one swing it was as thick as a bowl. The Rakshasa tore loose and lifted her sword to meet him. Wukong again swung the staff to strike. On the front of Green-Cloud Mountain, kinship and propriety were gone; only grievance was spoken. This was a fine and deadly clash:

The skirt and hairpins were forensibly an uncanny cultivation gone wild; For a son’s grudge she hurled wrath at the monkey. Though the Monkey King truly turned fiercer in anger, because the road to the Western Sage must continue, he kept his patience soft. Before, he asked to borrow the Banana-leaf Fan and did not display ferocity. The Rakshasa, ignorant, raised her sword to strike; The Monkey King meant only to explain brotherly ties. How can a woman wrestle a man? In the end, manly force outweighs womanly force. The Golden-Hooped Staff is so ferocious; that frost-edged green blade is close and tight in rank. They chop at face and temple, hurl at the head, and bitter hatred and hurt endure without rest. Left blocks and right parries display martial arts; front meets rear, and strange stratagems are cast forth. They fought only until deep exhaustion overtook them, and they did not notice the western sun sinking. The Rakshasa swiftly wielded her true fan and swished it once; the spirits and ghosts were troubled by the moved air. The Rakshasa woman fought with Wukong until dusk. Seeing Wukong’s staff heavy and his counter-moves so closely formed, she reckoned she could not defeat him. So she brought out the Banana-leaf Fan, and with one sweep of dark wind she buffeted Wukong until he was left without even shadow or shape; no thought could keep him. The Rakshasa withdrew, victorious.

The Great Sage drifted and staggered, unable to settle by falling left or right. He was like a storm-tossed broken leaf, streamwater carrying the remnant of fallen flowers. He rolled all night and only at dawn at last came down, clasping a rock of a peak in both arms. After settling his mind for a long while, he looked carefully and only then recognized it as the Little Xumi Mountain. The Great Sage sighed deeply: “What power this woman has! How could she send old Sun all the way here? I once remembered coming to this place and petitioning Bodhisattva Lingji to call down the Yellow Wind demon to save my Master. From Huangfeng Ridge to here there is directly over three thousand li to the south; now, turning on the western road, I am at a southeast corner. Who knows how many ten-thousands of li away?” "I will go down and ask Bodhisattva Lingji for some news, so that I may return by the old way."

Before he had even fully steadied himself, he heard the bell ringing out brightly again. He hurried down the mountain slope and went straight to the Chan monastery. A daoist at the gate, recognizing Sun Wukong’s appearance, ran inside to report: "The shaggy-faced Great Sage who came last year to invite a Bodhisattva to subdue the Yellow-Wind demon has returned." The Bodhisattva saw it was Wukong and quickly descended from the precious seat to welcome him. Going in, he bowed and said, "Congratulations. Have you come to begin the scripture journey?" Wukong replied, "Not yet—not yet truly."

Lingji said, "You have not yet obtained the Le Yin Dharma. Why return from the wild mountains now?" Wukong replied, "Last year, because of your kindness, I brought down the Yellow-Wind demon. Since then I have passed through unknown hardships along the road. I have now reached the Flaming Mountains and cannot move forward. I asked the locals, and they told me there is an Iron-Fan Immortal; with her banana-fiber fan she can put out the flames. I went specially to find her. That Immortal is the wife of the Bull Demon King, mother of Red Boy. She says I made her son a disciple page of Guanyin Bodhisattva so he cannot see him often, and she bears me enmity, refuses to lend the fan, and argued with me. Seeing that my staff was too heavy to hold against her, she gave the fan one great sweep, and it sent me drifting and whirling until I finally came down here. So I dashed to this monastery to ask the way back. I do not know how many li remain to the Flaming Mountains."

Lingji laughed. "That woman is named Luo Sha, also called Iron-Fan Princess. That banana fan was once a numinous treasure formed on the back of Kunlun from the beginning of creation, when Heaven and Earth first opened; it is a leaf born of Taiyin essence, therefore it can quench fire. If she fans at a person, he may be blown for eighty-four thousand li before the cold wind settles. From this place to the Flaming Mountains is just over fifty thousand li. It is because Great Sage has the power to hold back the clouds that you stopped here; if you were an ordinary man, you would not have been able to stand still at all."

Wukong said, "Terrible, terrible! How then will my master cross that way?" Lingji said, "Do not worry, Great Sage. This, too, is by Tripitaka's ordained affinity; it is fitting that Great Sage now bring this through."

Wukong asked, "How can it be made to work?" Lingji said, "In the past I received Buddha's command and was granted one Dingfeng Pill and one Feilong staff. The Feilong staff has already subdued the Wind Demon. The Dingfeng pill has not yet been used. I give it to Great Sage now. It will keep that brute from sweeping at you and holding you in motion. You should take the fan, set him to rest, and fan the fires down. That will complete this task."

Wukong lowered his head and bowed in endless thanks. The Bodhisattva took a small brocade pouch from his sleeve, gave him the one Dingfeng pill, tucked it at Wukong’s collar, and stitched it fast with needle and thread. As he sent him out, he said, "There is no need to stay. Go northwest, and that is the mountain-ground of Luo Sha."

Wukong took his leave of Lingji, mounted the Jidou Cloud, and returned straight to Green Cloud Mountain, arriving in an instant. He struck the cave gate with the Golden-Hooped Staff and called out, "Open the door, open it! Old Sun has come to borrow the fan and try it."

The young maid inside panicked and ran to report, "Grandmother, the one who asks to borrow the fan has come again." Hearing this, the Iron-Fan Princess felt a chill of fear and thought, "That wild monkey truly has real skill. My treasure, when it fans a person, can blow him all the way to eighty-four thousand li before the wind ceases. How is he back already after one sweep? This time I will fan him two or three times in a row and send him off so he cannot find his way home."

She sprang up at once, squared herself, drew her sword in both hands, and came out: "Sun Wukong, you are not afraid of me and have come to seek death again?"

Wukong laughed. "Sister-in-law, do not be stingy. I must borrow this fan and use it so that Tripitaka may cross the mountain, and then I will return it. I am a gentleman with a heart of sincerity; I am not a petty fellow who borrows and never returns."

The princess cursed, "You wild monkey! How shameless, how ignorant! You have not yet repaid the grudge for my taking your son, and as for your hope of borrowing a fan, how can it be satisfied? Do not move—eat my old mother’s blade!"

The Great Sage showed no fear and met her blows with a clear stroke of his ironrod. They traded strike after strike; the princess’s hand was weak and she could not handle the sword well, while Sun Wukong was strong and skilled in battle. Seeing the odds not in her favor, she took up the fan and gave Wukong one sweep. He stood unmoving. Wukong withdrew the Golden-Hooped Staff and said with a knowing smile, "This time is not like the last. Sweep as much as you wish. If Old Sun so much as stirs an inch, I am no true man."

The Iron-Fan Princess swept twice more. Again he did not move. Alarmed, she hurriedly withdrew her treasure, turned back, went into the cave, and shut the door tight.

When Wukong saw she had closed the door, he devised a trick. He opened his collar, held the Dingfeng Pill in his mouth, and changed shape, becoming a jiaoliao insect, then crawled through a crack in the gate. At that moment the princess cried, "I am thirsty, I am thirsty—bring tea at once." A nearby maid gave her a pot of fragrant tea and filled a cup in a rushing pour, with foam hissing and rising. Wukong rejoiced at the sight; with a quick chirr he flew beneath the foam.

The princess was terribly parched. She took the tea and drank three cups in as many breaths. Wukong had already gone into her belly. He returned to his true form and cried in a strong voice, "Sister-in-law, let me use the fan."

The Iron-Fan Princess started in panic, "Children, have you closed the front door?" They said, "It is closed." She said, "Then how can Sun Wukong be crying inside the house?" The maid replied, "He is crying from inside your body."

The princess exclaimed, "Sun Wukong, what trick are you practicing there?" Wukong answered, "Old Sun never uses tricks and spells; this is all real technique, true power. I am already playing tricks in your respectable sister-in-law’s belly and have seen your heart and liver for myself. I know you are hungry and thirsty. I will first send you a cup to ease the thirst."

So he put his foot down inside her. The princess clutched her lower belly, writhed on the ground in pain, and called out in distress.

Wukong said, "Sister-in-law, do not refuse. I will bring you another bite to satisfy your hunger." Then he pushed his head upward. She could bear it no more; she rolled on the ground, face gone pale and yellow, crying, "Uncle Sun, spare my life."

Wukong then withdrew his limbs and said, "Only now do you recognize an uncle? Out of brotherly feeling toward the Niu family, I still spare your life. Bring out the fan so I may use it."

The princess replied, "Uncle, there is a fan, there is a fan. Come out and take it."

Wukong said, "I have seen the fan by taking it out."

She called for a maid to bring a banana-leaf fan and set it by her side. Wukong, peering toward her throat, said, "Sister-in-law, because I spared your life, I did not have to stab a hole below your waist-ribs and come out by force; I could leave by my mouth. Open your mouth wide—widely." She did so, opening it broad.

Wukong once again took the form of the jiaoliao insect and flew out first, alighting upon the banana fan. The princess did not understand, and called out three times, "Uncle, come out." Wukong resumed his true form, took the fan, and said, "I’m over here. Thank you for lending it. Thank you indeed."

He jerked the fan and stepped forward out of the cave. The maidens quickly opened the gate and let him out.

The Great Sage turned his cloud about and returned by the eastern route. In no time he descended from the cloud and stood beneath the red-brick wall. Upon seeing him, Zhu Bajie cried, "Master, brother has come! He has come!" Tripitaka and Sha Wujing went out with the old man of this dwelling to receive him, then went into the inner room together.

Wukong set the banana-fan beside them and said, "Old fellow, is this the fan?"

The elder answered, "Yes, yes."

Tripitaka rejoiced, "My worthy fellow has performed a great deed. To gain this treasure must have cost you such hardship."

Wukong said, "The hardship was not too much to speak of. Who was that Iron-Fan Immortal, you ask? She was in fact the wife of the Bull Demon King and mother of Red Boy, called Luo Sha, also called Iron-Fan Princess. I went to borrow from her outside the cave. She spoke of old enmity and struck at me with several sword blows. I frightened her with my staff, so she used the fan once on me and I drifted and spun all the way to Mount Small Sumeru before landing. By luck I met Lingji Bodhisattva, who gave me a Dingfeng pill and pointed me home. I returned to Green Cloud Mountain and met the princess again. She again used the fan and fanned at me, but I did not move, and she fled back into the cave. Then I transformed into a jiaoliao insect and flew inside. She was asking for tea; I slipped under the foam and entered her belly, working my tricks there. She could not endure the pain and kept crying, asking me to spare her life and even to lend me the fan. I spared her, took the fan, and crossed over the Flaming Mountains. I will still return it after we are across." Tripitaka heard this and thanked him in silence.

The four disciples all took their leave of the old man and headed west. After about forty li, the heat grew progressively more oppressive, steaming the body. Sha Wujing only said, "My feet feel as if they are burning." Zhu Bajie added, "My paws are scorching too."

The horse was even faster than usual, and because the heat was so hard to bear it grew restless and rushed forward. Wukong said, "Master, please dismount. Brothers, do not press on. Let me fan down the flames. After wind and rain the earth will cool; then we can cross the mountain."

Wukong raised the fan and went straight to the fire. He fanned once with all his strength; the flames leapt upward in surging plumes. He fanned again—tenfold greater. He fanned once more—the fire rose a thousand zhang high and slowly began to burn his body. Wukong hurried back; two tufts of his fur had already been scorched away. He ran straight to Tripitaka and shouted, "Go back, go back quickly. The fire has come. The fire has come."

The Master mounted the horse, and with Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing came east again for more than twenty li before he finally rested, saying, “How is it, Wukong?” The Monkey King set down his fan and said, “Can’t stop, can’t stop; that rascal has tricked me.” Tripitaka heard this and furrowed his brows in sorrow; with sorrow pressing on his heart, he could not hold back the tears and said only, “What is to be done?” Zhu Bajie said, “Elder brother, why did you hurry back and call out so?” The Monkey King said, “I fanned once and the flames flared; a second fanning made the fire fiercer; a third made the fire-tongues rise a thousand zhang high. If he had not run fast enough, he would have burned all the hairs off.” Zhu Bajie laughed, “You always say thunder cannot harm you and fire cannot damage you. Why are you afraid of fire now?” The Monkey King said, “You dolt, you understand nothing. Then I had guarded carefully with my mind, so I was not hurt. Today I only stirred the flame to calm it; I did not once use the art of dodging fire, and I did not invoke my protective techniques, so I burned two locks of hair.” Sha Wujing said, “With fire this fierce there is no way west. What is to be done?” Zhu Bajie said, “Just choose any path with no fire and go on.” Tripitaka asked, “Which direction has no fire?” Zhu Bajie said, “East, south, and north are all without fire.” He asked again, “Where is the scripture?” Zhu Bajie said, “In the west is the scripture.” Tripitaka said, “I only mean to go to where the scripture is.” Sha Wujing said, “Where there is scripture there is fire; where there is no fire there is no scripture. Truly it is a dilemma.”

The four were still chattering noisily when someone called out, “Great Sage, do not be anxious. Come and eat a bit of vegetarian meal first, then we will talk.” The four looked back and saw an old man, wearing a wind-whipped cape, a crescent-moon crown on his head, a dragon-head staff in his hand, and iron-toed boots on his feet. Behind him came a grotesque-beaked, fish-cheeked ghost, a copper basin balanced on the ghost’s head, containing some steamed cakes, cakes and gruel, and yellow-grain rice. At the westward road he bowed low and said, “I am the Earth God of Flaming Mountain. Knowing that the Great Sage protected the holy monk and could not go onward, I offer this vegetarian meal especially.” The Monkey King said, “I can be offered the meal, but when will this fire die out so that my Master can pass?” The Earth Lord said, “To extinguish the fire, you must borrow the banana-leaf fan from the Rākṣasī demoness.” Wukong picked up a fan by the wayside and said, “Is this it? The more I fan, the more the fire grips it. Why?” The Earth Lord looked at it and laughed, “This is no true fan; he has deceived you.” The Monkey King said, “How can I get the true one?” The Earth Lord then bowed from the waist again and, smiling faintly, said:

If you still want to borrow the true banana-palm fan, you must seek Great-Force King.

In the end we do not yet know why the Great-Force King is involved. Then listen to the next chapter for the explanation.