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

Now Great Sage Sun Wukong entered the cave mouth and looked around both sides. He saw:

Ridges like skulls, bones thick as a forest. Human hair was laid down into felt-like sheets. Human skin and flesh, rotted through, turned to dusty clay. Human sinews were twisted on the trees, dry and shiny like silver. Truly it was a mountain of carrion and a sea of blood. In fact, the stench was utterly sickening. On the east, a little demon took living men and flayed their flesh; On the west, a pouring demon steamed and cooked fresh human flesh. If not for Sun Wukong’s such heroic nerve, no second ordinary mortal could enter this gate. Not long later, as he walked into the second gate and looked, he cried out: Ah! Here the scene was unlike outside: singularly eerie and elegant, beautiful and broad and level. On both sides grew jade-grass and immortal flowers, and ahead and behind stood tall pines and emerald bamboos. He went on seven or eight li, and only then reached the third gate. Sidling his body and peering from the corner of his eye, he saw three old demons seated high above, all fierce and grotesque. The one in the middle looked like this: He had chiselled teeth and saw-toothed gums, a round head and broad face. His roar was like thunder, his glance like lightning. His upturned nose faced heaven, his red eyebrows flared with flame. As he moved, all beasts were struck with panic; if he sat down, all demonic soldiers had their guts shake. This was Qingmao, the lion monster, king of beasts. The one below on the left looked like this: His eyes were like a phoenix’s, his pupils golden; yellow tusk-teeth and thick legs. A long silvered trunk, its head seeming to be its tail. Round brow, wrinkled lines, body squat and dense. A soft voice like that of a graceful young woman, a jade face like a cow-headed fiend. This was the old yellow-toothed elephant, who had practiced self-cultivation for years. The one below on the right looked like this: A huge-roc head with golden wings, starry eyes and leopard eyes. He stirred north and set his course for south, fierce and brave. He could transform and soar through the air; with a ducklike cackle he seemed as cruel as a dragon. In a whirl of wind, feathered pinions, a hundred birds hid their heads; with sharp talons, all manner of birds lost their courage. This was Yunchengjiuwan, the Great Roc Vulture. Below those three were lined up over one hundred small and large captains, each fully clothed and armored, ordered and orderly, with imposing majesty, murderous aura in abundance.

When the Great Sage saw this, he rejoiced in his heart and was not at all afraid. He strode boldly through the gate, took off his clapper-bell, and called upward: "Great King." The three old demons laughed and asked, "Xiaozuanfeng, you have come?" The Great Sage answered, "I have." "You went patrolling the mountain to inquire about the whereabouts of Sun Wukong. What did you hear?" asked the old demon. "Great King above," replied the Great Sage, "I dare not speak of it." "Why do you dare not speak?" he demanded. "By Your Majesty’s order I was striking my clapper-bell as I walked. At one point I raised my head and saw one person squatting there, sharpening a staff. He resembled a road-opening spirit; if he were to stand up, he would be a good ten zhang tall. He took up water from the cliffside rock, polished and filed it, and softly muttered to himself, saying that his staff had not yet displayed its divine power here; once he polished it clear, he would come to strike the Great King. So I knew it was Sun Wukong, and I came to report it."

When the old demon heard these words, he was all covered in sweat. Frightened, he said with a quivering voice, "Brother, I told you: do not provoke Tripitaka. His disciple’s powers are vast, and he prepared in advance—honing his staff to strike us. What are we to do?" He ordered, "Kids, call in all the small demons from outside, close the gates, and just let him through." One of the captains who knew this reported, "Great King, all the small demons outside have scattered." The old demon said, "Why have they all scattered? Perhaps they heard bad wind. Quickly, quickly close the gates." The demons clanged and shut both the front and rear gates fast and tight.

The Great Sage thought to himself in alarm, "Now they have closed the gate. If he asks me about things inside and outside my house and I cannot answer, then he will seize me unless I make my escape first. Let me frighten him once more, make him open the gate, and run." He stepped forward again: "Great King, what he said was not true." The old demon said, "What else did he say?" The Great Sage said, "He said, ‘First Great King, I will peel your skin. Second Great King, I will flay your bones. Third Great King, I will draw out your tendons. If you close the gates so he cannot go out, he will transform. In an instant he can become a fly and enter through a door crack; then he will seize all of us. What will become of us?’" The old demon said, "Brothers, be careful. In this cave there is no ordinary fly. Yet if a fly comes in, it is Sun Wukong." The Great Sage smiled inwardly: "Then I’ll just become a fly and frighten him once, then open the gate and run." Instantly he shifted to the side, plucked one strand of hair from the back of his head, blew a breath of immortal air and called, "Transform!" At once he became a golden fly and flew toward the old demon, smashing into his face. The old fiend, alarmed, said, "Brother, do not stand still—the thing has gone in through the gate." So frightened, the entire host of major and minor demons, with brooms and tools, surged forward and flailed about the fly in chaos.

The Great Sage could not help but laugh with chattering snorts. Yet this was no place to laugh; in this moment he let his original face show. The third old demon instantly leapt forward and grabbed him: "Brother, I nearly got fooled by him." The old demon said, "Elder brother, who is fooling whom?" The three fiends said, "That little one who just answered was no Xiaozuanfeng. It was Sun Wukong. He must have run into Xiaozuanfeng somehow; I do not know how he struck him dead, but he transformed and tricked us." The Great Sage, alarmed, said, "He recognized me." Then he rubbed himself and told the old demon, "How can I be Sun Wukong? I am Xiaozuanfeng. Your Great King has mistaken him." The old demon laughed, "Brother, he is Xiaozuanfeng. Three times a day he appears before us to report at the dawn-watch; I know him." He asked, "Do you have your token?" The Great Sage replied, "I do." Grasping his robe, he pulled out the token. The old fiend at once confirmed, "Brother, do not restrain him." The three fiends said, "Eldest brother, did you not see him? Just now he slipped to the side and laughed once; I saw a thunder-mouth appear. When I grabbed him, he had changed into this exact form." He shouted, "Kids, bring rope." The captains immediately brought out cords.

The three fiends turned the Great Sage over and tied him, as if tethering four horses together. Lifting up his clothing, they looked, and it was indeed a Bimawen. In truth, in Sun Wukong’s seven-and-twenty transformations, if he changes into flying birds, beasts, flowers, vessels, insects, and the like, his whole body can spin away at once. But when he changes into a person, only face and features change, while the body cannot. As expected, his body was all yellow fur, with two red cords and one tail. The old demon said, "It is Sun Wukong’s body with Xiaozuanfeng’s skin. It is him." He ordered, "Kids, prepare wine and bring a cup of merit-drink to your three Great Kings. Now that Sun Wukong is taken, Tripitaka is surely food in our mouths." The three fiends said, "Do not drink yet. Sun Wukong may slip and flee; he has ways to escape. Bring out the bottle and put Sun Wukong inside it first; only then may we drink."

The old demon laughed: "Exactly right, exactly." He immediately signaled thirty-six little demons to enter inside, open the treasury door, and bring out the bottle. How large was that bottle? Only two chi and four cun high. How could thirty-six men carry it? The bottle was a treasure of yin-yang energies, containing the Seven Treasures, the Eight Trigrams, and the Twenty-Four Qi; it required thirty-six people, matching the heavenly-gang number, to lift it at all. Not long after, they brought out the sacred bottle and set it outside the third gate upon a clean spread, then unsealed its lid. They untied the Great Sage, stripped off his clothes, and in the breath from inside the bottle he was inhaled with a whooshing sound; they set the lid down and sealed it tight. Then they drank and said, "Monkey, now that you have entered my precious bottle, you can no longer dream of the western road. If you can still bow to Buddha to seek the scripture, it can only happen when you are flung about and turned over in the turning cart, then reborn to seize another body." As for the host and lesser demons, each one laughed broadly and went off celebrating. Their success is not worth further recording.

Yet it is said that the Great Sage came to the bottle. By that wonder of the vessel his body had been bound small, so he changed form and crouched within it. After a while, on that side there was cool shade, and he suddenly broke into laughter: “This fiend has a fine reputation without real power. How can he tell people that a man in this bottle, in one watch and three ke, became pus and blood? If it stays this cool, he could remain in it for seven or eight years without harm.” Alas, the Great Sage did not know the purpose of that treasure: if a person is enclosed in it, one year of silence, one year in cool shade; but when he hears human speech, fire comes to burn. He had not yet finished speaking when suddenly the whole bottle became flame. Luckily he had his skill; sitting in the middle he twisted his anti-fire secret and was not afraid at all. After half a time-span, forty snakes came burrowing from all around to bite him. The Pilgrim swung out his hands, grabbed and snatched them all, and with all his strength snapped them into eighty pieces. Soon after, three fire-drakes came out and coiled around him above and below, and it was truly hard to withstand. Feeling flustered and at a loss, he said, “This is bad. These three fire-drakes are hard to meet. If they continue and no way opens in a while, the heat will attack my heart—what then?” He thought: “I should only lengthen my body and then burst out.” The Great Sage pinched the secret, intoned a spell, and called, “Long!” At once he lengthened, rising by some number of zhang. The bottle, being close to his body, also grew long. When he shortened his body a little, the bottle too became small again. His heart startled: “Difficult, difficult, difficult. How is it that when I grow I also grow, and when I shrink I also shrink? What is to be done?” He could not finish speaking when pain stirred near his single staff. He quickly reached out and felt it, but the heat had softened it. In dread he said, “What is this now? My single cudgel is melted—have I become a cripple?” He could not hold back tears. This is exactly the saying:

Encounters with demons bring me sorrow, my thoughts fixed on Tripitaka, when disaster appears in danger, I dread for the holy monk. He said, “Master! In former days I returned to orthodoxy by Guanyin’s mercy, heeding the Bodhisattva and escaping heavenly calamity. I have followed you through many mountains, suppressed many fiends, subdued Zhu Bajie, gained Sha Wujing; through countless hardships, I relied on this to attain the Western Realm together with you and together reach the true fruit. Yet today this venomous demon has come upon us. Old Sun, by mistake, entered here and has thrown himself away, leaving you amid the mid-mountain with no way to advance. Surely it is because of my former fame that I endure this misfortune this morning.”

At that desolate moment he suddenly remembered: “The Bodhisattva had once at Snake Coiling Mountain bestowed upon me three life-saving hairs. I do not know if they remain; let me look.” He felt over his whole body and found three hairs on the back of his head, very stiff and upright. Gladly he said, “All my body hair is soft and supple, but these three are hard and needle-sharp—surely they are to save my life.” He bit his teeth, endured the pain, plucked out the hairs, blew out celestial breath, and shouted, “Transform!” One became a gold-steel drill, one became a strip of bamboo, and one became soft cotton rope. He bent the bamboo sliver like a bow and, with the drill pulled through it, gave one fierce whistling thrust beneath the bottle bottom, boring a little eye-hole until light came through. Rejoicing, he said, “Fortune, fortune—it is good; I can leave at last.” Only after he changed his form and emerged did the bottle become cool again. Why was it now cool? He had bored through it and let out the yin and yang qi; therefore it became cool.

The Great Sage picked up his hairs, shrank himself, and changed into a tiny cicada-grub, very quick, as fine as a whisker, as long as an eyebrow hair. He came through the hole, and instead of leaving, he flew and fastened himself upon the old demon’s head. That old demon was drinking wine. He suddenly put down his cup and said, “Third Brother, has Sun Wukong transformed this time?” The Third Demon laughed, “Even now, is it so late?” The old demon ordered the messenger to bring up the bottle. The thirty-six little fiends at once lifted it; it seemed much lighter. In fear they reported, “Great King, the bottle is light.” The old demon roared, “Nonsense. This treasure is the full force of yin and yang qi; how could it be light?” One struggling little fiend lifted it and said, “Do you not see, it is not light?” The old demon opened the lid and saw bright emptiness within, and could not suppress his cry: “The bottle is empty!” On his head, the Great Sage also could not help speaking: “My child, with a quick hiss, go!” The monsters heard and cried, “He’s gone, he’s gone.” And they gave orders: “Shut the gate, shut the gate.”

Then the Great Sage gave a body-shake, gathered back his discarded clothing, resumed his true form, and leapt out of the cave. Turning around, he shouted, “Fiendish spirit, do not be rude. The bottle has been pierced and can no longer hold a man; use it only to present your courtesy.” Happy and delighted, he shouted and laughed in uproar, set foot on the clouds, and went straight to where Tripitaka was. The elder was there kneading soil for incense and praying heavenward. Wukong halted in the clouds and listened to his prayer. The elder joined his palms and prayed:

I implore the heavenly beings of mists and rains, the Six Ding and Six Jia with the gods of heaven. May they protect the worthy disciple Sun Wukong, whose powers are vast and whose dharma has no bounds. Hearing such words, the Great Sage, with even greater effort, drew in his cloud-glow, came near, and called, “Master, I am here.” The elder supported himself and said, “Wukong, you have labored hard. You went scouting far peaks and have not returned for long, and I am deeply anxious. What good or bad now lies in this mountain?” Wukong said with a laugh, “Master, this journey had three causes: first, a karma and predestined tie among the living of the Eastern Land; second, your merit is boundless and immeasurable; and third, the force of your disciple. As for the earlier matter of the drilling wind, falling into the bottle, and escaping, I have told it all in full. To behold your face now is truly a benefit across two lives.” The elder said in boundless gratitude, “You did not even wager a bout with the demon then?” Wukong said, “No.” The elder said, “Then how can I trust that you can protect me over the mountain?” Wukong, who loved rivalry, called out, “How could I fail to protect you when crossing the mountain?” The elder said, “You did not even fight him to a clear result, only in this vague way—how can I dare to go forward?” The Great Sage laughed, “Master, you also do not understand change. It is said, ‘One thread alone cannot form a line; one palm alone cannot clap.’ Those demons are three, the little fiends many thousands—how can old Sun face them all by himself?” The elder said, “One against many, even you are hard pressed. Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing also have abilities. Send them with you to join together, sweep the mountain path clear, and then protect my crossing.” Wukong reflected and said, “Your words are best. Have Sha Wujing guard you and have Zhu Bajie follow me.” The Fool was flustered: “Brother, you have no signal of grace for me. I am clumsy and heavy, of little skill; on a hard road I can only shoulder wind, what help can I be?” Wukong said, “Brother, though you lack skill, you are still a man. As the saying goes, ‘Even a fart can add to the wind.’ You can still bolster my courage.” Zhu Bajie said, “Fine, fine—just lead me properly. But only at places where we must move fast, do not tease me.” The elder said, “Zhu Bajie, keep watch; Sha Wujing and I remain here.”

The Fool shook himself, unleashed his might, and with Wukong rode out on fierce wind, in cloud and mist they leapt up the high mountain and reached the mouth of the cave. Already they saw the cave door tightly shut, and nowhere did they see anyone. Wukong advanced, gripping the iron staff, and shouted in a strong voice, “Monster, open the gate! Come out at once and battle old Sun.” A little fiend reported from inside the cave. The old demon, heart shaken and frightened, said, “For years they have said the monkey is fierce; today I know the rumor has not been in vain.” The two elder fiends at his side asked, “How did he speak, brother?” The old demon said, “This early, the Wanderer changed into a small drilling wind and mixed in; we could not know him. Luckily the three worthy younger brothers recognized him and sealed him in the bottle, but he used artful power, drilled through it, then snatched away his clothing and left. Now he calls for battle outside; who dares to engage him in even one clash?” Again he asked, but no one answered. Again he asked; still no one answered, for all were pretending to be deaf and dumb. The old demon raged and said, “We have long borne a filthy name along the western road. If today Sun Wukong so despises us and I do not go out and meet him in array, our name is diminished. Let me cast off this old life and fight him for three bouts. If in three rounds I can win, Tripitaka will still be in our mouths to eat; if I cannot, then bolt the gate and let him pass.” He then put on his battle garments and emerged, opening the gate as he stepped out.

Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie were watching beside the gate, and it was truly a strange monster:

Iron-faced, copper-headed, he wore a precious helmet, and its tassels danced in light. Brightly the flash of his double eyes flashed like lightning; bright as he was, his two side locks streamed like drifting clouds. Curved claws, sharp as silver points, keen as chiseled blades, and all in a neat row. He wore gold armor with no seam in it, a dragon-rope belt at the waist, as if it could sense every opening. In one hand he held a steel saber, glaring bright; heroic, mighty, and formidable, rare in all the world. He cried out once, a shout like thunder, asking, “Who is it that knocks at the gate?” The Great Sage turned back and said, “You are Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven.” The old demon laughed: “Are you Sun Wukong? Brazen, wild monkey, I do not provoke you, and yet why do you call for battle here?” Sun Wukong said, “‘Waves rise only when there is wind; without the tide the waters are still.’ You did not provoke me—how could I find you? Only because you and your rabble of foxes and jackals have gathered together and scheme to eat my Master, so I have come to do my duty here.” The old demon said, “You come to bellow before my gate so loudly and so bravely—are you here to fight?” Sun Wukong said, “I am.” The demon said, “Do not run wild. If I should bring out my demon soldiers, draw up formations, wave flags and beat war drums, and then fight you, it would seem I am a villain bullying you in my own house. I will fight you one-on-one, and no helping hands.” At this Sun Wukong called out, “Zhu Bajie, come over and see how this old monk handles it.” The ox-eyed boor of a pig indeed moved off to one side. The old demon said, “You come here and make a trial with me. Let me strike three full blows on that shaven head; then I will let your Tripitaka pass. If I cannot hold him, quickly send me your Tripitaka and I will dine on him at once.” Sun Wukong laughed: “Monster, if there is paper and brush in your cave, bring them out and draw up a contract with you. From this day until next year, I shall not treat this as serious combat.”

The old demon shook himself into a posture of threat, set his feet in the cross-stepped stance, lifted his two-handed blade, and aimed to chop the Great Sage from above. The Great Sage tilted his head upward and there was only a sharp kchak sound; even the skin of his head did not redden. The old demon was startled: “What a hard head this monkey has!” Sun Wukong laughed: “You do not know. Old Sun is made this way:

Born with a bronze head and an iron skull, no one in heaven, earth, or the whole world can match it. Axe blows and hammer strikes cannot break me; in childhood I entered Laojun’s furnace. The stars of the Four-Dipper officers supervised my making; the Twenty-Eight Constellations labored over me. Soaked by water many times, I am never spoiled; around me run tight bands and ribs like layered steel. Tripitaka still feared me not wholly secure, so he had me first bound with the Violet-Gold Headband Spell.” The old demon said, “Monkey, don’t chatter with your mouth. Watch these two cuts. I will not spare your life.” Sun Wukong said, “That is all you can do with your blades.” The old demon said, “Monkey, you do not know this blade: It was made in a golden furnace, its divine power refined through a hundred firings. Its edge follows the Three Canons, and its hardness accords with the Six Arts. Yet it is like a fly’s tail, and like the waist of a white python. Enter the mountain and the clouds roar; descend to the sea and the waves crash. It has been polished without number, seared in the fire through hundreds of rounds. Set in an ancient mountain cave, it has rendered service in battle. Swing it against you, this monk’s heavenly dome, and one stroke can split you into two bowls.” The Great Sage laughed, “This wretch has no sense. He has taken Old Sun for a mere bowlhead. Very well—since I was mistreated and struck unfairly, make another cut and see how that goes.”

The old demon swung the blade again. The Great Sage met it with a nod of his head, and ping-pang—it split in two. The Great Sage rolled on the ground and became two bodies. The demon was thrown into confusion and lowered his steel blade. From far off Zhu Bajie laughed, “The old demon could cut two strokes, and yet now he has become four?” The old demon pointed at Sun Wukong: “I have heard you can use a doubling technique. How is it that by doing so before me, you can make two bodies out of one?” Sun Wukong asked, “What is splitting the body?” The demon said, “Why was your first cut no more than a bruise, and now one cut has made two of you?” Sun Wukong laughed: “Monster, do not be afraid. If I am cut ten thousand times, I can give you twenty thousand.” The demon said, “You monkey only know how to split yourself; you do not know how to gather back into one. If you truly have the skill, gather into one and strike me once with the cudgel.” Sun Wukong said, “Do not lie. You promised three strokes and have only struck me twice. If I strike back and it lands half a blow, I shall no longer be called Sun.” The demon said, “Exactly. Exactly.”

Well then, the Great Sage pulled himself together, rolled, and once more stood as a single body. He brandished his staff and struck straight at the old demon’s head. The old demon raised his blade to block: “Impudent monkey, what kind of wretch-wielding cudgel is this you dare bring to my gate and beat someone with?” The Great Sage roared, “If you ask about this staff, its name is known in heaven and earth.” The demon asked, “How is it famous?” He said:

This staff is cast from cast-iron nine times, then burned in the furnace by Laojun himself. King Yü won it and named it a divine treasure, proved and appraised by the Four Seas and Eight Rivers. Constellations were laid up darkly within it, and gold leaves wrapped both ends. Its carvings are so thick they unsettle spirits and ghosts, with dragon and phoenix inscriptions atop. Its name is the Spirit-Sun Staff, hard to find, hidden in the sea-caverns beyond men’s sight. When it changes form, it must be able to rise and fly; five-colored clouds drift from it. Its color can grow large as a great cauldron, or be small as a strand of iron wire. As thick as Mount Nan, as fine as a needle, long or short at will by my own intent. A mere light movement makes colored clouds arise; lifted lightly it leaps like lightning. When it exhales, chill force makes men shiver; every stroke sends killing mists into the air. It can subdue dragons and constrain tigers and travels wherever I wish. I have brought this staff and laid havoc in Heaven’s court, scattering the Peach Banquet with might. The King of Heaven has never won in challenge against me; even Nezha found me hard to face. Gods and heavenly generals I have beaten; ten thousand soldiers fled like swallows. Thunder hosts were sent, guardians of Lingxiao; I flew up and struck the Palace of Brilliance. Celestial attendants of the Directorate to Heaven all ran about; even the escorted Immortal ministers were thrown into confusion. With this staff I overturned the Palace of the North Dipper and, glancing back, split open the Court of the Southern Pole. The Celestial Emperor in the Purple City saw how fierce this staff was and specially invited the Buddha to meet me. In battles and sieges, victory and defeat are as in a strategist’s book; hardships and disasters are impossible to judge. Through full five hundred years I endured and fought; I was only spared by the intercession of the Bodhisattva of the South Sea. In Great Tang there was a monk who, at Heaven’s feet, took a vast vow. He redeemed ghostly souls in the City of the Dead and at the assembly on the Sacred Peak sought the scripture rolls. On the Western road this demon way is full of monsters and the path is by no means easy. Knowing this staff to be peerless in the world, he begged me to accompany him on the journey. Evil spirits I sent boiling into the nether dark, and their flesh became dust, their bones fine ash. Everywhere below, demons and goblins die beneath this staff; thousands upon thousands fall beyond counting. In the upper realm it smashed the Constellation Court of Dipper and Ox; below it damaged the Hall of the Net of Judgments. Heavenly generals once chased with nine luminaries; the underworld wounded my life-and-death judges. Cast into midair, it hurled mountains and rivers apart, matching the Xinhua Sword of Tai Sui. On this staff alone I guard Tripitaka and have beaten every demon under heaven. Hearing this, the old demon trembled for his life, yet raised his blade to strike. Sun Wukong laughed and advanced with the Iron-Staff in front. At first they wrestled at the cave mouth, then sprang into the air, fighting in midair. The clash was fierce: At the root of the River of Heaven, the Spirit-Treasure Staff is set, The name of this staff is As-You-Will, highest in the world. One boasts of techniques, vexing demon chiefs; the other, strong-armed, wields a blade and law-arts with pride. A scuffle at the gate may still be drawn near; aerial combat in the sky gives no quarter. One shifts face and form at will; the other stands and stretches his waist along the earth. The sky above them grew thick with clouds, the fields below drifted with wild mist. One repeatedly meant to eat Tripitaka; this one poured out all his power to defend him. Both because Buddha sent out the scriptures, the lines of good and evil are clear, and sorrow and hatred are brought to grief. The two fought for more than twenty exchanges, with no clear winner and no loser declared.

Originally, Zhu Bajie saw the two fighting well here below and could not restrain himself. He drew his dagger-hoe and charged, intending to leap forward and strike the demon across the face. The demon panicked. He did not understand that Zhu Bajie had the temperament of a tiger-headed fool, reckless and shocking to others. He only saw the long face and broad ears, and the hard, violent weapon, and thought he had won the formation; he dropped his sword and turned to run. The Great Sage shouted, “After him, after him!” The pig, trusting in his swagger, lifted his spiked pike and hurried down on the demon. The old demon saw him closing in. At the edge of a slope he planted himself, faced the wind, and with a flash returned to his true form, his mouth opening wide as if to swallow Zhu Bajie. Zhu Bajie, in fright, suddenly yanked himself out and dived into the grass, caring nothing for thorny thistles and briars, nor for a scratched, hurting head. He cowered and listened from the grass to the banging blows. When the Great Sage arrived, the monster once again opened its mouth to swallow, but it fell into his trick. The Great Sage gathered in the iron staff, dashed forward, and was swallowed by the old demon in one bite. From the grass, that Bimawen muttered and complained in loud tones: "This Bimawen knows nothing of advance and retreat. The demon came to eat you, yet you did not run and went to meet him. If that mouth swallows you now, today you are still a monk; tomorrow you will be a Great Gong indeed." The old demon left in triumph, and only then did the pigling wriggle out from the grass and slip back along the old path.

Tripitaka had been waiting down below that slope with Sha Wujing when he saw Zhu Bajie come running, breathing hard and wheezing. Tripitaka cried out in alarm: “Bajie, why are you so disheveled? Where has Sun Wukong vanished to?” Zhu Bajie wept and sobbed, “The Elder Brother has been swallowed whole by a demon.” Hearing this, Tripitaka collapsed in fear. After a while he was on the ground, stumbling, then rose and struck his chest with his fists and said, “My disciple! I was told you were good at subduing demons and that you would lead me to the Western Heaven to see Buddha. How is it that today you should die by this monster’s hand? Alas, alas! The merit of all my disciples and companions has turned to dust.” The Master suffered greatly. Look at that clumsy Bajie: he did not come to console him, but instead called, “Sha Wujing, bring the luggage; the two of us can divide it.” Sha Wujing said, “Second Brother, divide what?” Zhu Bajie said, “We split it and each goes his way: you go to the Flowing-Sand River and go back to eating people; I will go to Gaolao Zhuang and look in on my household. Sell the White Horse and buy Master a death casket.” Hearing this, the Elder, furious and gasping, called on Heaven and then wailed loudly. Enough for now.”

The old demon, having swallowed the monk and thinking he had secured a good trick, went straight back to his own cave. The demons who had come out gathered to ask about the battle’s result. The old demon said, “I’ve brought one back.” The second demon asked with delight, “Elder Brother, who have you taken?” The old demon said, “It is Sun Wukong.” The second demon asked, “Where is he?” The old demon replied, “I swallowed him in one bite.” The third demon was alarmed: “Big Brother, you never told me you could do this—Sun Wukong should not be eaten.” The Great Sage in the belly said, “I’m not food to be swallowed, and hunger is already forbidden in me; I can’t be made hungry again.” The little demon was flustered: “Great King, this is bad—Sun Wukong is speaking from inside your belly.” The old demon said, “If he can speak, can’t you either eat him outright or else make him submit? Go boil some salted broth. I’ll make him vomit after I drink it and pour it in, then slowly stew him and drink.” The small demon truly brought half a basin of salt broth. The old demon drank it at one gulp; then he retched and vomited, while the Great Sage down below had set firm roots and did not stir. He once again cleared his throat and vomited out again, but this made him nauseous and dizzy and split with bile; the Wukong grew stiller still. The monster, breath ragged, called out, “Sun Wukong, why do you not come out?” Sun Wukong said, “Not yet. It suits me not to come out now.” The old demon asked, “Then why won’t you come out?” Wukong replied, “This demon-thing truly understands no transformations. I am a monk by cultivation, very plain and sparse. In this season’s coolness I wear nothing but a single robe. But in this belly it is warm and windless, so let me stay through winter and then I will come out.”

The demons all heard and said, “Great King, Sun Wukong means to pass winter in your belly.” The old demon said, “If he is to spend winter there, I’ll enter meditation and use my transporting arts; if he eats nothing for a whole winter, he will starve that Bimawun.” The Great Sage said, “My son, you know nothing. Old Sun has taken Master Tripitaka from afar to fetch sutras, and he carries a folding pot for cooking scraps to eat. I will use your liver, intestines, belly, and lungs, gently and piece by piece, and that will even be enough provision through Qingming.” The second demon was shocked: “Brother, this monkey can really do such a thing?” The third demon said, “Brother, even if he only wants scraps, where is he to set up a cooking pot?” Wukong said, “It would be easy on the three-way bone.” The third asked, “Then if he sets up the pot and lights a fire, the smoke will rise and blow into our noses and make us sneeze?” Wukong laughed: “No danger. When old Sun pokes the Golden-Hooped Staff through the crown gate and makes a hole, it serves first as a skylight and second as a chimney for smoke.”

The old demon, though he claimed not to be afraid, was inwardly shaken, so he hardened himself and said, “Brothers, fear nothing. Bring me my medicinal wine. Let me drink a few cups down and poison that monkey and kill him.” The Great Sage laughed inwardly: “Five hundred years ago, when I caused havoc in Heaven, I ate Laozi’s pills, the Jade Emperor’s wine, the Queen Mother’s peaches, and phoenix marrow and dragon liver. What medicinal wine dares to poison me?” The little demon did filter and pour two jars, filling a full cup and handing it to the old demon. The old demon took it in his hand. The Great Sage, smelling the wine within the belly, said, “Do not let him drink that.” The Great Sage twisted his head and turned it into a trumpet-mouth, placing it just beneath the demon’s throat. The monster swallowed with a gulp, and the Great Sage immediately drank it from that throat. The second cup went in, and the Great Sage drank that too. He in a row drank seven or eight cups, all of which the Wukong took in. The old demon set down the cup and said, “No more. I usually take only two cups and my belly burns. But after seven or eight, even my face is not red!”

The Great Sage was not drunk by much, yet after taking those seven or eight cups, he raised a gale of drunken motion inside the belly: unceasingly he set up brace-postures, fell into flat-somersault forms, kicked with flying-feet kicks, grabbed hold of the liver-flower and made himself a swing, raised a dragonfly shape, turned the head root over, and danced in wild disorder. The monster, unable to bear the pain, fell to the ground.

In the end it was still unknown whether the issue ended in life or death; listen for the resolution in the next episode.