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

The roots of passion and desire are all alike: where there is attachment, desire naturally abides. Monks and practitioners may go on and on in restless pursuits, but to cut off desire and forget feeling is true Chan. Mark this well—keep the heart firm, not stained by so much as a single grain of dust, as clear as a moonlit sky. As your practice advances, do not err in your steps; when the work is fully accomplished, one reaches the Great Enlightened Immortal state.

Tripitaka and his disciples cast off the net of desire, leapt from the prison of longing, and set off westward. After not much distance, summer had passed and early autumn had begun, and a fresh coolness seeped through their limbs. Then there was this to behold:

The sudden rain had driven off the lingering summer heat; a tung leaf quivered. Fireflies flew along the grassy path at dusk, and crickets sang in the moonlight. Yellow marsh-mallow opened and glimmered with dew; red knotweed spread across the sandy banks. Pussy willow and willow were already shedding, and cold cicadas chirped in season.

As Tripitaka walked, he suddenly saw a high mountain, its peak thrust into the blue heaven, truly a peak that seemed to block out the sun. The Elder’s heart trembled with fear and he called out to Sun Wukong: “Look at the mountain ahead—so lofty. I do not know whether a path passes through it.” Sun Wukong laughed: “Master Tripitaka has said it right: from olden times we have heard, ‘The higher the mountain, the more surely there is a road for travelers; the deeper the water, the more surely there is a boatman.’ How could there be no way through? Have no fear and ride on.” Hearing this, Tripitaka grinned and laughed, cracked his whip, urged his horse onward, and went straight up the high rocks.

After going only a few li, they saw an old man: his sideburns tangled and loose, white hair blowing in disorder; beard sparse and gray, strands of silver swaying. Around his neck hung a string of beads, and he held a staff topped with a dragon head. From afar on the slope he shouted, “Monks going west, hold your horse for a moment and pull tight the reins on that jade-bound strap. On this mountain there is a band of demons who have devoured all manner of folk from Yanfushi. You must not go on.” When Tripitaka heard this, he turned pale with fright. One, the ground under the horse was uneven; two, the saddle was insecure. He toppled off with a thud and lay in the grass, unable to stir. Sun Wukong rushed forward to support him: “Fear not—fear not, I am here.” Tripitaka said, “Did you hear what that old man on the cliff says? This mountain is home to a band of demons who have eaten everyone in the world below. Who would dare question him and get the truth from his own mouth?” Sun Wukong said, “You sit down and wait. I will ask him.” Tripitaka replied, “Your appearance is ugly and your speech rough; you may provoke him and not get a true answer.” Sun Wukong laughed: “I shall change into a more handsome form and go ask him.” Tripitaka said, “You have changed already, in my eyes.” The Great Sage pinched a charm, whirled, and in an instant became a clean little monk: clear-eyed, a neat brow, round head, round fair face; his movements gave off an air of refinement, his words no longer coarse. Shaking out the brocade robes and robes of a young monk, he stepped with dignity toward him and said to Tripitaka, “Master, how do I look?” Tripitaka rejoiced and said, “You look excellent.” Zhu Bajie said, “How could he not look fine? Only you are all of us beaten by comparison. Even this old pig had run through this for two or three years and still could not turn this handsome.”

The Great Sage slipped away from them and went straight up. Bowing low, he said to the old man, “Venerable sir, humble monk here offers his respects.” The old fellow looked at him and, struck by the monk’s handsome, gentle face and youthful figure, could not decide how to answer. He finally returned the bow, reached up to touch the boy’s head, and with laughing eyes asked, “Little monk, where have you come from?” Sun Wukong said, “We have come from Great Tang in the eastern capital, set on journeying west to the Buddha for the scriptures. We only just arrived and heard you had spoken of demons here. My Master is timid and afraid, so he sent me to ask plainly: What demon is this, and how does he dare be so wild? Please explain it fully so I can bring him down and carry him away.” The old man laughed: “You little monk is young and know not your limits; your words do not fit the moment. That demon has powers vast and broad. How can you think to beat him out with easy words and send him packing?” Sun Wukong laughed: “By what you say, you seem to protect him. You must be related to him—some close ally or near friend. Otherwise how could he so display that breadth of rank and manner and not open his heart and tell his lineage?” The old man nodded and smiled: “This monk can indeed wield the tongue. You have traveled with your Master and learned sorceries all over, can drive out monsters and calm evil spirits in one household to another. You have not yet met one truly terrible enough to frighten you.” Sun Wukong asked, “What sort of terrible one?” The old man replied, “That demon sent one missive to Ling mountain; five hundred Arhats came to receive him. A document sent to Heaven, and the Eleven Great Stars in the sky all gave him regard. The Four-Sea Dragons have been his companions; the Immortals of the Eight Caves often meet with him. The ten Yama kings call one another brothers, and the local spirit magistrates and city gods love him as guests and companions.”

Hearing this, the Great Sage could not resist a hearty laugh and tugged at the old man’s sleeve: “Do not go on. This demon is no brother or companion in youthful camaraderie to my little monk self. Even if he had heard I was a young monk, he would have moved here overnight.” The old man said, “You small monk is speaking nonsense and insolently. Which heavenly spirit is that younger attendant of yours?” Sun Wukong smiled, “I will not hide it from you. My home is in Aolai, Flower-Fruit Mountain, Water-curtain Cave. I am called Sun Wukong by surname. In my former life I too had once been a demon and had done mighty things. Once, with all the demons assembled, I drank too many cups of wine and fell asleep. In a dream I saw two men bind me with hooks and drag me to the courts of Yama. In one burst of rage I struck with the Golden-Hooped Staff, wounding the ghostly yamen clerks, knocking Yama himself down, and nearly overturning the Hall of the Net.” Terrified, that clerkly deputy brought out papers, the ten Yama kings signed and wrote their marks, and they told me to spare him and all my beating. They were willing to make me their younger servant.” The old man said in astonishment, “Amitabha Buddha! This monk’s words run wildly—do not try to be any larger than this.” Sun Wukong said, “Officer, a body this large is enough for me.” The old man asked, “How many years old are you?” Sun Wukong answered, “You guess.” The old man said, “Maybe seven or eight.” Sun Wukong laughed: “I have one million seven-eights.” The old man looked puzzled: “How can a face be seven-times-seven?” Sun Wukong answered, “This little monk has seventy-two faces indeed.”

The old man did not understand a thing and kept on asking him. Then Sun Wukong dabbed at his face and a different one appeared at once—the original form: sharp white teeth and a mouth like a pestle, two flanks bright red, a tiger-skin skirt knotted at his waist, and the Golden-Hooped Staff in his hand. He stood at the foot of the stone cliff like a living Lord of Thunder. The old man, on seeing him, turned the color of death from his face; his legs and feet numbed, he could not keep upright, and he fell with a crash. He got up, then stumbled and slipped backward again. The Great Sage stepped forward: “Venerable official, do not be truly startled. We have ugly faces and good hearts—nothing to fear. Now that you have pointed this out kindly, tell me plainly how many monsters are here. Tell me all at once so I can thank you.” That old fellow trembled and shook so hard he could not speak, as if deaf, and uttered not a word.

When Sun Wukong saw him silent, he turned back down the slope. Tripitaka called, “Sun Wukong, you’re back. What did you learn?” Sun Wukong laughed, “No trouble, no trouble. There is certainly a demon-child here; only these locals are timid and have put him in their minds. Fear not. Fear not. I am here.” Tripitaka asked, “Did you ask his name, this mountain, what cave, how many demons, and whether the road leads to Leiyin?” Zhu Bajie said, “Master Tripitaka, do not be angry. If it is a matter of tricking with transformations, making sharp pinches, and fooling folk, the three of us and the four are no match for the elder brother. But if it is honesty, the line-up of him is no better than mine.” Tripitaka said, “Right, right—you still are the honest one.” Zhu Bajie continued, “He did not know how to wind the matter without missing its tail; he asked two questions and then came straight back all awkwardly. Let Zhu Bajie go and ask him for the true facts.” Tripitaka said, “Wuneng, ask carefully.”

The big fool, you tucked your hooked cudgel at your belt, straightened your ochre robe, and with a silly affectation marched up the slope, calling to the old man, “Grandpa, I bow before you.” When the old fellow saw Sun Wukong had returned, he braced himself on his staff and half rose, trembling hard, intending to leave. At the sight of Zhu Bajie, his fear grew. “Grandfather! What evil dream did I have this night to meet this band of ruffians? The monk before me was ugly, yes, but had some of a human face. This one—how can a mouth be this blocky, ears this fan-shaped, face this iron plate, mane about the neck, no more trace of a proper man left in him?” Zhu Bajie laughed: “Old sir, you are no master of reserve. Your judgment of people has both praise and blame. How do you find me? I may be ugly, true, but wait a bit and I look quite handsome enough.” Now that he heard something of a human answer, the old man found his voice and asked, “Where are you from?” Zhu Bajie said, “I am the second disciple of Tripitaka, named Wuneng, called Zhu Bajie. The one I mentioned before who asked first is the Great Sage Sun Wukong, my senior disciple. Master got angry at him for barging up and not asking straightly; so he sent me in his place to pay proper respects and ask. What mountain is this place, what cave, what demon dwells there, and where is the road to the west? Please point these things out.” The old man said, “Can you be straightforward?” Zhu Bajie replied, “My whole life I do not dare to tell one iota that is false.” The old man said, “Do not be slippery in speech like the monk that came first.” Zhu Bajie said, “I am not like him.

The old man leaned on his staff and said to Zhu Bajie, “This mountain is called the Eight-hundred-Li Lion-camel Ridge. In its middle is Lion-camel Cave. Inside are three demon lords.” Zhu Bajie spat: “You old fellow, why such suspicion? Could three demons really take the trouble to come here and bring a warning?” The old man said, “You are not afraid?” Zhu Bajie replied, “To tell you plainly, of these three demons my elder master-brother can kill one with one strike of the Golden-Hooped Staff; I can kill one with one stroke of my pa; I have another junior master-brother, and with his demon-subduing staff he can kill one too. If all three are beaten dead, then my Master can pass through—what difficulty is there?” The old man laughed: “This monk does not know the depth. These three demon heads are immensely powerful. Their lower demons: five thousand on the south ridge, five thousand on the north ridge; ten thousand at the east pass, ten thousand at the west pass; four or five thousand are on patrol, another ten thousand guard the gate; there are countless fire tenders and countless wood-choppers: altogether, counting, forty-seven or forty-eight thousand. All of them wear name plaques and live here only to eat people.”

The fool heard these words and, trembling with fear, ran back, came near Tripitaka, said nothing, set down his pa, and knelt there in salutation. Sun Wukong saw him and cried out, “You do not answer, yet why are you crouching there?” Zhu Bajie said, “I’m scared to the point of losing my composure. Now there is no need to speak—hurry, each of us should look to save our own lives and leave.” Sun Wukong said, “This muddle-headed one—my report made me not afraid, but when you ask about it, you panic like this.” Tripitaka asked, “How is it truly?” Zhu Bajie said, “That old man said this mountain is called the Eight-hundred-Li Lion-camel Mountain. In the middle there is Lion-camel Cave. In it are three old demons and forty-eight thousand little demons, all of them specialized in eating people. If we step near the slopes, we will be eaten by them. Do not think we can pass.” Hearing this, Tripitaka trembled through and through, with shivering skin and bones, and said, “Wukong, what is to be done?” Sun Wukong laughed, “Master, do not be anxious; no great matter. There may only be a few spirits here, but these people are cowardly and, frightened by it, they talk of many and mighty folk. I am here.” Zhu Bajie said, “Brother, what talk is that? Mine is not different from yours—I asked and it is real, not mere invention. The whole mountain and all the valleys are full of demons; how do we go forward?” Sun Wukong laughed, “Simpleton, stop frightening yourself. Even if the mountain and valleys are full of demons, I only have to beat along the way once; in the middle of the night I can sweep them clear.” Zhu Bajie said, “Shameful words, shameful words. Do not boast. Those demons need seven or eight days even for one watch shift; how can you end them so quickly?” Sun Wukong asked, “Then how do you think to fight?” Zhu Bajie said, “Relying on you to seize and throw them, to bind and to pin with the Stillness Spell—there is no way to do it so quickly.” Sun Wukong laughed, “No need for catching, taking, or binding. I pull the two ends of this staff and shout, ‘Long!’ and it becomes forty zhang in length. With one sweep, I shout, ‘Thick!,’ and it becomes eight zhang in round thickness. Roll once to the south and you kill five thousand; roll once to the north and you kill five thousand; roll from east to west once and fear only that four or five thousand will be reduced to pulped meat.” Zhu Bajie said, “Brother, if this is how you beat it fast, perhaps by the second watch all will be done.” Sha Wujing laughed by his side and said, “Master, with Great Brother’s powers like this, why should we be afraid? Please mount and ride.” Tripitaka, hearing them discuss methods, had no way out but to steady his mind, mount, and depart.

While traveling, that messenger old man had vanished. Sha Wujing said, “He is a demon, coming on purpose to show him up and scare us.” Sun Wukong said, “Do not be hasty; let me go see.” The Great Sage leapt to a high peak, scanned all around and saw no trace, then quickly turned and saw bright rosy clouds glimmering in midair. He leaped on the clouds and went up to inspect: it was Tai Bai Jinxing. He came to his side and grabbed him by the arm, calling his childhood name over and over, “Li Chang-gang, Li Chang-gang, you look so tired and lazy. Whatever the matter, speak it face to face, why come posing as an old man of the hills and woods, you old monkey?” Tai Bai Jinxing hurriedly offered courtesy and said, “Great Sage, the report was late; forgive me, forgive me. This demon lord is indeed of vast powers and means to make a display. Only by relying on your transformations and your clever strategies can one get through. If you are even slightly negligent, it will be truly hard to leave.” Sun Wukong thanked him: “I am grateful, grateful. This place is indeed hard to pass. Please tell the elder star above the heavens to report to the Jade Emperor that we need some heavenly soldiers to help this old Sun.” Tai Bai Jinxing said, “Yes, yes, yes—just carry my verbal message back. Even one hundred thousand heavenly soldiers can be obtained.”

After parting from Tai Bai Jinxing, Sun Wukong alighted from the clouds and told Tripitaka, “That old man was indeed Tai Bai Star, come to give us this report.” Tripitaka joined his palms and said, “Disciple, hurry and overtake him. Ask whether there is some other road; then we can turn and avoid this place.” Sun Wukong said, “We cannot turn. This mountain alone stretches eight hundred li, and with four sides whose side paths no one knows, how could we turn?” Tripitaka heard this and could not hold back tears: “Disciple, in such difficulty, how are we to make offerings to Buddha?” Sun Wukong said, “Do not cry, do not cry. If you cry, disaster will be complete. This messenger must have added a good deal of exaggeration; it is only to make us mindful, truly as the saying goes: ‘One who reports has already passed it.’ For now dismount and sit.” Zhu Bajie said, “Any other plan?” Sun Wukong said, “No other plan. You stay here and keep guarding Master carefully. Sha Wujing, watch the baggage and the horse well. Let old Sun go up the ridge first and reconnoiter, and I will see how many demons there are in front and behind. I will seize one and question him thoroughly, have him write a roster, set down his names, and identify every one, young and old, one by one. Then command him to shut the cave gate and forbid it to block the path, and then ask Master to cross quietly and silently; only then will Sun’s method truly show.” Sha Wujing only said, “Be careful, be careful.” Sun Wukong laughed, “No need for instructions. If I go once, I can open a road through the Eastern Ocean, and I can even strike through the gate of an iron-clad silver mountain.”

The Great Sage Sun Wukong gave one whistle, sprang on his cloud, and leapt to the high peak. He tugged vines and creepers and swept across the mountain, and found it quiet and empty. Suddenly he cried, “I was wrong, I was wrong. I should not have let this Tai Bai elder go. He only meant to frighten me. Where would any demons be here? They should have come out to leap, twirl spears and staves, and perform martial arts shows—how could there be none?” As he was still thinking, from behind the mountain he suddenly heard ringing and clattering, a clink-clink and clack-clack of clappers and bells. He turned quickly and saw it was a little demon carrying a banner with the character 令, bells hanging at his waist, and clappers in his hands, walking from north to south. Looking closely, he was about one zhang and two chi tall. Sun Wukong smiled to himself: “He must be a decoy, likely sent with an official dispatch. I will wait and listen to what he says.”

The Great Sage Sun Wukong twitched the formula, chanted a spell, and in a single turn changed into a fly. He flew lightly onto the demon’s hat and cocked his ear to listen. He saw the little demon climb onto the main road, striking his clapper and shaking his bells, muttering as he went, “We, the mountain patrols, each of us must stay alert and guard against Sun Wukong; he can turn into a fly.” Sun Wukong heard this and secretly grew uneasy: “Did this fellow see me? If he did not see me, how does he know my name and also that I can become a fly?” It turned out the little demon had not seen him at all. The demon lord had somehow instructed him with that line; it was a rumor, making him babble such nonsense. Sun Wukong did not know this and instead suspected he had seen him, and was about to bring out his staff to strike. Then he stopped and thought to himself, “I still remember when that fool asked about Tai Bai, he said the old demons are three, and the lesser ones are forty-seven or eighty thousand. Even if there are many more like this little demon, it is not a problem. Yet who knows how vast the arts of these three old demons are? Let me question him once; then to act is no problem.”

“Great Sage, how do you plan to question him?” He leaped down from his hat and landed on the tree trunk, letting that little demon go ahead a few steps first. Then, turning swiftly, he also changed into a little demon, copying him exactly as he struck a wooden clapper, shook a bell, carried a tiny banner, wore the same kind of clothes—only about three or five inches longer—and chanted the same kind of words. He hurried up and called, “You walking ahead, wait for me a moment.” The little demon turned back and said, “Where are you from?” Sun Wukong laughed, “Good fellow, are we not one household that you do not recognize me?” The little demon replied, “You are not one of ours.” Sun Wukong said, “How is it not so? Take another look.” The little demon said, “A stranger’s face; I do not recognize you, I do not recognize you.” Sun Wukong said, “Can a stranger’s face be known by sight? I am one of the fire-tenders. You ought to know me.” The little demon shook his head, “No, no. In our cave, the fire-tending brothers are just those fellows, and none of them has this pointed mouth.” Sun Wukong thought to himself, “That fellow’s nose has somehow become more pointed.” He then lowered his head, rubbed his own mouth with the back of his hand and said, “My mouth is not pointed.” Truly, it was no longer pointed. The little demon said, “You were a pointed-mouth just now. How is it that with one quick rub it is no longer pointed? You are hard to recognize and quite suspicious—not one of our household. Wait a little, wait a little; suspicious, suspicious. Our King’s laws are strict: the fire-tenders only tend fire, and the mountain patrols only patrol the mountain. How then would he make you tend fire and send you to patrol the mountain as well?” Sun Wukong, quick with words, seized the moment and said, “You do not know. The King liked how well I kept the fire and promoted me to patrol the mountain.”

The little demon said, “Very well. Among our mountain patrol there is one squad of forty, ten squads in all, four hundred in total, each with its own age and appearance, each with its own complexion and coloring. The King, fearing we might mix up our shifts and be unable to keep proper watch, gave our whole squad one designation. Do you have a sign?” Seeing the demon’s outfit and the way he announced himself, Sun Wukong took on the same form. He had not seen that demon’s badge, so none hung on his own person. Yet, as the Great Sage, he did not tell him he lacked one and answered readily, “How could I not have one? I have only just received a new one. Take out yours and let me see it.” The little demon, not seeing the trick, raised his clothes and pulled out a gold-lacquered token worn at his side with a woolen cord and handed it to Sun Wukong. Sun Wukong saw on the back of the badge the golden characters 威鎮諸魔 (“Subduing and Quelling All Demons”), and on the front three true characters: 小鑽風 (“Xiao Zuanfeng”). He thought in himself, “No need to explain this. A mountain patrol token should still have a ‘wind’ character hanging from it.” So he said, “Hold out your clothes and step here; let me take out my token for you to see.” He turned, inserted his hand, plucked a single tiny hair from the tip of his tail, twisted it, called, “Change!” and turned it into a gold-lacquered token, strung with a green woolen cord, inscribed with three true characters, “General Zuanfeng.” He handed it over. The little demon exclaimed, “We are all called Little Zuanfeng; why are you called General Zuanfeng?” Sun Wukong had no fault in his response, and his words were fitting: “You truly do not know. The King saw that I tended the fire well, promoted me to wind patrol, and gave me a new token: ‘Chief Patrol-Wind,’ so that I might command this squad of forty brothers of yours.” The demon, on hearing this, hurriedly bowed and said, “Officer, officer, newly appointed and just arrived here, I am indeed a stranger and my words were sharp; do not be offended.” Sun Wukong, with proper respect in laughter, said, “No offense meant. There is only one matter: the entrance fee for meeting is five taels from each person.” The little demon said, “Officer, do not hurry. Let me first go to the southern ridge and gather this whole squad, and then I can send them off all at once.” Sun Wukong said, “Then in that case I will go with you.” The little demon truly went ahead and the Great Sage followed right after.

After not far—a distance of only a few li—they came upon a so-called Brush-Peak. Why it is called Brush-Peak: on the top of that mountain rose a narrow peak about four or five zhang high, like a writing brush planted upright in a stand, and so it was named. Sun Wukong went to the edge, scooped with his tail, leapt up and sat on the tip of the peak. He called out, “Zuanfeng, come on over.” Those little Zuanfenges below bowed and said, “Officer, at your command.” Sun Wukong said, “Do you know why the King assigned me here?” The little demon said, “No.” Sun Wukong said, “The King wants to eat Tripitaka. He fears that Sun Wukong has deep powers and many transformations, so he suspects Tripitaka’s disciple may take the form of a little Zuanfeng and come along this path to spy out news. Thus he promoted me as Chief Zuanfeng to check whether any in your squad are impostors.” The little demons answered together, “Officer, we are all true ones.” Sun Wukong said, “If you are true, do you know the true measure of the King’s power? Tell me.” “I know.” “Then tell me and let me hear. If your answer accords with my knowledge, you are true; if it differs, you are false, and I will take you before the King to punish you.” The little Zuanfeng looked up at him from the height and, with much bluff and noise, had no way but to speak plainly: “My King’s powers are vast and mighty; with one mouth he once swallowed ten thousand heavenly soldiers.” Sun Wukong, hearing this, drew a breath and said, “You are false.” The little Zuanfeng was startled and said, “Officer, respected lord, I am true. How can you say I am false?” Sun Wukong replied, “If you are true, how can you speak nonsense? How large can the King’s body be that with one mouth he swallowed ten thousand heavenly soldiers?” The little Zuanfeng said, “Officer, you truly do not know. My King can transform. When he needs, he can expand enough to support Heaven; when he needs, he can be as small as a mustard seed. That year the Queen Mother held a Peach-Pavilion assembly and invited all the Immortals, and he was not invited with a summons. Wanting to contest Heaven, the Jade Emperor sent ten thousand heavenly soldiers to subdue him. My King transformed his true body, opened his mouth like a city gate, and swallowed them all at once. He terrified the soldiers so they dared not engage, and thus shut the South Heavenly Gate. That is why one mouth once swallowed ten thousand soldiers.” Sun Wukong thought to himself, with a hidden smile, that in mere matters of hand and mouth Old Sun had done the same thing before. Then he said aloud, “What powers does the Second King have?” The little Zuanfeng said, “The Second King is three zhang tall, has silk-caterpillar brows, cinnabar-golden eyes, a beautiful voice, projecting fangs, and a snout like a flood dragon. If he fights, he only needs to roll in one sweep of his nose; even a body of iron-back and copper-plated limbs will lose soul and spirit.” Sun Wukong said, “A demon can be captured by a curling nose—easy enough.” He asked again, “How many arts and tricks does the Third King have?” The little Zuanfeng said, “My Third King is no ordinary monster of the mortal world. His title is Yun Cheng Wanli Peng. In action, he can whip up storms and move the sea, stirring north and south. He always keeps a treasure called the Yin-Yang Double-Essence Bottle. If he puts a person inside it, in a short while the one inside turns into gruel-water.”

Sun Wukong listened and inwardly grew wary: the demon might not be frightening, but he must take care to guard against that bottle. Then he asked aloud, “You have described the Three Great Kings’ powers without missing much; it is much what I already know. Still, what about the matter of which King wants to eat Tripitaka?” The little Zuanfeng said, “Officer, you do not know?” Sun Wukong called out, “I know slightly less than you do. I feared that you might not know the full details, so the King instructed me to question you thoroughly.” The little Zuanfeng said, “My first and second Kings have long lived in Lion-Back Ridge, in Lion-Back Cave. The Third King is not here; his dwelling is four hundred li to the west. Over there is a city called Lion-Back Kingdom. Five hundred years ago he ate this kingdom’s king and civil and military ministers; every man and woman in the city was eaten clean as well, and thus he took over that land. It is now filled only with monsters. It was not long ago that he learned in the Tang court of the Eastern Land that a monk was dispatched from the capital to journey west for the scriptures. That monk, Tripitaka, is a good man of tenfold cultivation. Whoever eats even a piece of his flesh will prolong life and become long-lived and deathless. But because he fears your disciple Sun Wukong is so formidable, with his own person alone difficult to deal with, he came straight here, made brothers with my two kings here, and by common agreement they set out together to seize that monk.”

The Great Sage, Sun Wukong, heard these words and grew furious: “That raging demon is exceedingly impolite. I am here to bring Tripitaka to true Buddhahood, and he plots to eat my man?” With one cry of anger, he gnawed his steel-hard teeth, whipped out his iron staff, leapt from the high peak, and struck the little demon on the head with it—pitifully, one heavy blow, and it became a mere lump of flesh. Then, seeing him for himself, he could not bear it and said, “Ah! he was actually kind, he even told me ordinary household gossip. How could I have finished him in this one moment? Well, well—what must be done, must be done.” Yet this great saint had only sought to block the way for his master; helplessly, he had done this thing. He removed the demon’s token and tied it around his waist, shouldered the banner marked with the character “ling,” hung a bell from his side, and clanged the clapper in his hand. Facing the wind he fingered a sealing gesture, chanted a spell, and in a flash transformed into the form of the little Whirlwind. He stepped back, turned onto the old path, sought the cave-stronghold, and went to probe the true state of the three old demons. It was then that:

A thousand transformations has the Beautiful Monkey King, and ten thousand postures—how true a feat he has to fly and rise! He broke into the deep hills, following the old road. Just as he walked, he suddenly heard cries and the neighing of horses. Looking up, he saw that at the mouth of the Lion-Treaded Cave stood myriad small demons arranged in ranks with spears, knives, swords, and halberds, and with banners and pennons. The Great Sage secretly rejoiced: “Master Li Changgeng was not speaking falsely at all; truly not.” That deployment had a certain method: two hundred and fifty made one large company. He saw forty mixed-colored long banners whipping wildly in the wind, and knew there were ten thousand horse and men. Yet he gauged it in his mind: “As Little Whirlwind, if I go in there and that old demon asks me about patroling the mountains, I must answer according to the moment. If for a moment my words slip and he comes to recognize me, how could I escape death? If I tried to run out then, this band at the gate would block me—how could I get through the gate? To seize the demon lord within the cave, I must first dispatch the host of monsters before the gate.” You ask how he would remove them? The Great Sage thought: “That old demon has not yet met me, yet he knows my fame. I will rely on that name, on my imposing presence, and speak a few grand boasts to scare him first. Truly, when beings under Heaven have affinity and a destined bond, in bringing back the scripture one bold speech of a hero can scatter all those guards at the gate; if one has no affinity and no bond, and cannot obtain the true scripture, even were I to make lotuses bloom at once, I cannot clear the spirits outside the Western Cave.” His mind queried his mouth and his mouth queried his mind; weighing this scheme, he struck the clapper, shook the bell, and went straight into the Lion-Camel Cave gate. Before he arrived, little demons in the forward camp had already blocked him, crying, “Has the Little Whirlwind come?” Sun Wukong did not answer, kept his head lowered, and walked on.

He came to the second camp line, and again a little demon pulled him back: “Has the Little Whirlwind come?” Sun Wukong said, “He has.” The demons said, “This morning you went patrolling on the wind—did you happen to collide with Sun Wukong?” He said, “I did. He is right there, and he is grinding the lever-bar.” The little demons were frightened and asked, “What does he look like? What bar is he grinding?” Sun Wukong said, “He is squatting by that ravine, looking like an opening-road spirit. If he stands up, he seems some ten or twelve zhang tall. In his hand he holds an iron rod, a great bar as thick as a basin, and he scoops water on the cliff face and rubs it there. He mutters again and again: ‘O bar, I have never yet taken you out to display my powers. This time, when I go out, I will have ten thousand demons all cut down for you, and when I have killed those three demon-lords, I shall offer this back to you as sacrifice. Before I clear things first, I will kill your first ten thousand spirits at your gate.’ Hearing those words, each of the little demons was horrified, their hearts flying loose and their souls unsteadied. Sun Wukong added, “Friends, Tang Monk’s flesh is only a few jin, and none of it will be enough for my share. Why should we hold this jar for him? Better that we each scatter separately.” All the demons said, “He speaks correctly; let us each attend to our own lives.” As it turned out, they were all of wolf, worm, tiger, and leopard sorts, beast and bird alike. With one ‘whee,’ they all rushed away in uproar. This did not resemble a few market-boasting words from Great Sage Sun, yet it scattered them as surely as a Chu-chant scatters eight thousand troops.

Sun Wukong privately rejoiced: “Good! The old demon is dead. After hearing this and leaving, how could he dare a face-to-face meeting? This way in is only now best. If it had been otherwise, just when speaking, perhaps one or two of this band of small demons would have gone in to listen and then would not have run off in a rush with the wind. Look at his resolve as he presses toward the old cave, trusting himself to enter deep and boldly.”

After all, one cannot yet know what good or ill fate that old demon head will meet. Hear now how it is resolved in the next chapter.