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.

When the matter came before the king in the morning audience, the civil and military officials all came with memorial tablets and petitions, and said, "Your Majesty, please forgive us for the offense of impropriety." The king asked, "All my ministers are as respectful as always. What impropriety has occurred?" The ministers replied, "Your Majesty, we do not know for what cause, but in one night all our hair is gone." The king took the petition from the bald-faced officials and spoke from the dragon platform: "I truly know not why. In my inner palace, both men and women alike have all lost their hair overnight." The courtiers and sovereign alike began to weep in dismay: "From now on, we dare not kill monks again." The king mounted the dragon throne once more, and the officials returned to their posts. The king said, "If there is business to report, come forth from your office and present it; if there is none, roll up the screen and dismiss court." Then from the military bureau flashed out the commander in charge of city patrols; from the civil bureau came the commander of the cavalry and infantry of the East City. At the stairway they prostrated and said, "Your Majesty ordered me to patrol the city. In the night I captured a chest of brigand’s loot and one white horse. I dare not dispose of them on my own; please decree what is to be done." The king rejoiced and said, "Bring the chest at once."

The two officials withdrew at once to their offices, arrayed their troops in order, and had the chest carried out. Tripitaka lay within, spiritless and dazed: "Disciples, when we appear before the king, how shall we explain this?" Sun Wukong laughed. "No shouting," he said. "I have already made all arrangements. When he opens the chest, he will bow to us as his teacher. Just see that Zhu Bajie does not compete in pride and comparison." Zhu Bajie replied, "If only the evil of killing monks is avoided, that alone is immeasurable blessing. How could I still dare to contend over rank?" Before they could say more, they carried it outside the hall, entered the Five- Phoenix Hall, and set it beneath the cinnabar steps.

The two officials asked the king to have it opened, and the king immediately ordered it unsealed. As soon as the lid was lifted, Zhu Bajie could not restrain himself and leaped out. The officials, all those many, were so startled that their courage failed and their mouths went mute. Then they saw Sun Wukong bringing out Tripitaka and Sha Wujing unloading the baggage. When Zhu Bajie saw the commander hauling the horse forward, he strode up and cried, "That horse is mine—bring it here!" The officer, terrified, spun over and fell to the ground. The four disciples stood together on the steps. Seeing that they were four monks, the king hurried down from the dragon couch and ordered the three palace consorts to come; in the Golden-Canopy Hall, together with ministers, he asked, "From where does this elder come?" Tripitaka answered, "We are from the Great Tang of the Eastern Lands, sent under imperial direction to the Great Leiyin Temple in the Western Kingdom of Tianzhu to honor the living Buddha and bring back the True Scriptures." The king asked, "As a revered elder from afar, why did you rest inside that chest?" Tripitaka said, "This poor monk knew Your Majesty had a vow to kill monks and did not dare to appear openly in your realm. I disguised myself as a layman and at night sought lodging at the Baofang Inn. Fearing that people would recognize my true person, I kept watch in this chest. Unfortunately thieves stole it out, and the commander seized it and brought it here. Now that I behold Your Majesty’s draconic face, like clouds parting to reveal the sun, I beg Your Majesty to release this poor monk. The mercy would then be immeasurably deep." The king said, "You are a high monk from the great heavenly land of Great Tang, and I failed to receive you properly. For long I held a vow to slay monks. Once an insult came to me from a monk, and I pledged to Heaven to kill ten thousand monks to complete my vow. Yet by chance, tonight this has been corrected by your coming; my ministers, concubines, and all of us have already had our hair shaved off. Therefore, please, lofty Master, do not withhold your grace; I wish to be admitted among your disciples." When Zhu Bajie heard this, he laughed heartily and said, "If one is to be accepted as a disciple, what gift should be offered as a token?" The king said, "If the Master consents, I will present all the treasures of my state." Sun Wukong said, "No need to speak of treasures. I am a monk with the Way. You need only exchange the travel pass and send us out of your city. Then your royal domain will endure, your fortune and longevity enduring and complete." The king, hearing this, ordered a grand banquet at the Guanglu Temple. The king and all ministers and attendants joined together in reverence, with all bows made as one. At once the pass was exchanged, and they invited the Master to grant the king a new title. Sun Wukong said, "Your Majesty, the name 'Fa Kingdom' is excellent, but the character 'miew' in it does not fit. Since I have already passed this way, it may be changed to 'Qinfa Kingdom.' I assure you it will bring a thousand generations of victory, peace over water and river, winds and rains in harmony, and all lands in safety." The king thanked him. He arranged the court procession on the royal carriage and sent Tripitaka and the three disciples westward out of the city. The king and his ministers then returned to their course; nothing more need be told.

After bidding farewell to the King of Qinfa, the elder said cheerfully in the saddle, "Wukong, this method is very good and of great efficacy." Sha Wujing said, "Brother, where did we find so many barbers to shave so many heads in one night?" Sun Wukong spoke through the whole incident about the divine arts of shape-shifting and stratagem he had used. The four disciples laughed without even being able to close their mouths.

Just as they were rejoicing, they suddenly saw a high mountain blocking the way. Tripitaka pulled up his horse and said, "Disciples, look—the mountain front stands towering and remote. You must proceed with care." Sun Wukong laughed: "Do not worry. Do not worry. I will keep you from harm." Tripitaka said, "Say not merely 'no harm.' The mountain peaks stand upright, and from a distance there is something fierce about them. Dark clouds rise; I increasingly feel alarmed, my body tingles numb, and my mind is unsettled." Sun Wukong said, "Have you already forgotten Master Wuchao’s ‘Many-Hearts Sūtra’?" Tripitaka said, "I remember." Sun Wukong said, "You remember it, yet there are four verses you have forgotten." Tripitaka said, "Which four?" Sun Wukong intoned:

The Buddha is not to be sought afar on Vulture Peak; Vulture Peak is in your own heart. Every person has a Vulture Peak in their head. Beneath that inner Vulture Peak tower, one should cultivate the Way. Tripitaka said, "Disciple, do I not know? Following these four lines, among ten thousand sūtras and ten thousand treatises the teaching is only to cultivate the mind." Sun Wukong said, "There is no need to say more. If the heart is pure, clear and unshaken, and dwells in still clarity, then all ten thousand realms are clear. If one slips into carelessness, not even a thousand years, not even ten thousand ages, can bring success. But with one mind of faithful resolve, Leiyin is only before one’s eyes. With fear as deep as yours now, and such panic and agitation, both the Great Way and Leiyin are far away. Do not doubt in vain. Follow me." Hearing this, the elder’s spirit suddenly cleared; every restless thought vanished.

The four disciples advanced together. In only a few steps they were on the mountain. As they looked up, they saw:

That mountain is truly fine. Up close, its colours unfold in graded bands. On the summit the clouds drift and flutter. Tree-shadows ahead of the cliff are cold. Birds dart and flutter; wild beasts lurk fierce. A thousand pines fill the groves, and on the ridge tops stand a few stalks of bamboo. Wolves howl as they tear for prey, hungry tigers roar as they contest their meals. Wild apes cry aloud seeking ripe fruit, roe deer climb amid blossoms into emerald mist. The wind gusts softly, the water murmurs, and now and then one hears a hidden bird’s thin call. In places, tangled vines pull and drag, through the stream jade-like grasses mingle with fragrant orchids. Glinting strange stones, sharply cut cliff faces. Foxes and badgers move in packs, monkeys and apes roam in disorderly bands. The travelers, rightly fearful of danger upon danger, yet this old road turns and turns again. The disciples moved with wary hearts when suddenly they heard a roaring wind rise. Tripitaka, frightened, said, "The wind has risen." Sun Wukong said, "In spring there is the gentle wind, in summer the sweet wind, in autumn the golden wind, in winter the north wind. Wind rises in all four seasons—what is there to fear?" Tripitaka said, "This wind is rising very quickly and surely it is not a heavenly wind." Sun Wukong said, "Since old times, wind rises from the earth, clouds issue from the mountains. How then could this be a heaven wind?"

Then, without warning, a fog rose. It truly was:

Hazy and dim it stretched across the sky, darkening all above. Thick and blurred it clung about the earth, dimming all below. Not a trace of sunlight remained, no bird-song could be heard. It seemed like the primal chaos, like drifting dust in form. No mountain tops, no trees could be seen, nor any gatherer of medicine. Tripitaka said in one burst of alarm, "Wukong, the wind has not yet settled. How could such fog have risen?" Sun Wukong said, "Do not hurry. Have Master Tripitaka dismount. You two brothers stay here to guard him; I will go and see what omen this is, whether lucky or otherwise."

The Great Sage bent at the waist and rose into midair. He put one hand across his brow, opened his fire-bright eyes to their widest, and looked down. There, seated on a jutting cliff edge, he saw a demon spirit. See what manner of creature he was:

Brilliant in mottled hues and colorful shine, proud and upright his bearing was grand. Bristling tusks jutted from his jaws like steel drills, sharp claws and hooves tucked like hooked pieces of jade. Golden eyes, round and vast, struck fear in beasts and birds, silver whiskers bristling backward sent ghosts and spirits to grief. Arrogant, he howled and shouted in violent power, exhaling mist, blowing wind, and deploying tricks of craft. He also saw three or four dozen small demons lined at either side, and there the beast was standing, blasting out mist and driving wind in spells. Sun Wukong laughed to himself: "My master gave some early warning; he said it was not heaven wind. Indeed, this wind is caused by a demon making a racket. If I were to bring down my iron cudgel at once, it would be a crushing blow, and he'd die immediately. But it would tarnish old Sun’s reputation." This traveler has ever been a valiant hero, and never has he been adept at hidden stratagem against men. He said, "I will first return to watch over Zhu Bajie and tell him to face this demon in combat. If Bajie has true ability, let him strike down this demon—that is fate enough. If he has no method and is taken by the demon, then I can go and rescue him and win real renown thereby. On ordinary days he is fond of posing, somewhat lazy, unwilling to step forth, yet with a tight-mouthed readiness and a fondness for fine food. I shall tease him a little first; let's see what he says."

He at once came down from the cloud and stepped before Tripitaka. Tripitaka asked, “Sun Wukong, how do the wind and mist bode?” The Monkey said, “At this moment it is clear—there is hardly any wind or fog.” Tripitaka said, “That is so. It seems to be fading.” Sun Wukong laughed, “Master, I can usually see clearly at all times, yet this time I judged wrongly. I only said there might be a monster in the fog, and it turns out not.” Tripitaka asked, “What is it?” Wukong said, “Not far ahead is a village. The people there are kindly; they steam plain white rice and plain white flour dumplings as alms for monks. These mists, I think, are the steam from their steaming baskets, also the reward of merit they have accumulated.” When Zhu Bajie heard this, he believed him. He pulled Wukong’s sleeve and whispered, “Brother, did you already eat the alms they offered?” Wukong said, “Not much. The vegetables were too salty, and I do not like to eat much.” Zhu Bajie said, “Tch! Salty or not, I’ll fill my belly anyway. I am so thirsty and hungry; I will go to drink and then eat.” Wukong said, “You want to eat?” Zhu Bajie said, “Yes, indeed. My belly is hungry. I’ll go and eat some first, though I don’t know what to do.” Wukong said, “No hasty move, brother. As the old text says, ‘When the father is present, the son should not take things into his own hands.’ Master is here as well—how could you go first?” Zhu Bajie laughed, “If you do not speak, then I’ll go.” Wukong said, “If I don’t speak, how can you even go?” The fool, with his mouth for food ever alert, stepped forward and made a deep obeisance. “Master, just now senior brother said this village has households offering alms. Look at this horse; it may need grass and fodder, and it would be no trouble to ask the villagers for it. Now that wind and mist are clear, please sit a little while. I will go find some tender grass and feed the horse first, and then go to that house to seek alms,” he said. Tripitaka, delighted, replied, “Good. Why are you so careful today? Go quickly and come back quickly.”

The fool smiled inwardly and left. Wukong caught up with him and said, “Brother, the alms they serve there are for fine-looking monks only, not for ugly ones.” Zhu Bajie said, “Then it is a transformation again.” Wukong said, “Exactly—you can transform for a while.” That fool, though, had thirty-six transformations as well. He went into a hollow in the hill, twirled his mantra, recited a spell, and with a sway of body became a short, stocky monk. In his hand he tapped a wooden fish; in his mouth he hummed “ah-hung.” He could not even chant a scripture, only humming, “Shang Daren.”

That demon gathered in the wind, folded up the mist, and gave orders to the horde. At the road mouth he set up a ring-formation, waiting for travelers. This stupid donkey, ill-fated, soon blundered right into it and was surrounded. One grabbed his robes, another tugged at his ribbons, and the lot of them pushed and crowded, striking all at once. Zhu Bajie said, “Do not pull at me. Let me eat you all one by one first.” The monsters said, “Monk, what is it that you want to eat?” Zhu Bajie said, “There are alms here; I came to take monastic alms.” The monsters said, “You call this a place for monk’s alms? You don’t know this place specializes in eating monks. We are demon-transcendent beings of the mountain; we only want to seize you monks, carry you home, and steam you in the steamers and eat you. And you still think you have come to take alms?” Hearing this, Zhu Bajie grew frightened and complained to Wukong, “This Bimawun is truly lazy. He tricked me, saying villagers here offered alms. Where is there a village? What monks would anyone offer there? So this is the demon spirit.” That fool, being hauled at every turn, at once showed his true form, pulled out the hooked dingba at his waist, and with a wild flurry of blows drove those small demons back.

A little demon hurried to report to the old demon: “Great King, calamity.” The old demon asked, “What calamity?” The small one said, “A monk came along the front of the mountain and he is a clean-faced one. I said we’d take him back and steam him to eat. If we cannot eat him all, we would keep some for a darker day. But he can transform.” The old demon said, “Transform into what shape?” The small one said, “How could I tell a person’s shape? Long snout, great ears, a mane behind the back. In both hands he swings a hooked dingba, and with no head and no face he whirls about, terrifying us so badly we ran back to report, Great King.” The old fiend said, “Do not fear. I’ll go see.” He lifted an iron pestle and went close. When he saw, the fool indeed was ugly and monstrous. He had been born with:

A long beak of three feet and no first stop, Fangs and hooked jaws, like silver nails glinting. Twin round eyes flashed like lightning, Two ears flapped the wind with a whistling hush. A mane at the back like a row of iron arrows, Skin rough and scabby, still green with age. In his hands a strange implement held, Nine-toothed dingba, each piece startling. The demon, stiffening his courage, shouted: “Where are you from? What is your name? Say it quickly and I may spare your life.” Zhu Bajie laughed and said, “My child, you do not even recognize your pig ancestors. Come closer and listen: My mouth is huge, my fangs are fierce, my strength is great; The Jade Emperor raised me as Marshal of the Heavenly Canopy. I once held eighty-thousand soldiers of the heavenly river, In Heaven’s court there was free joy and complete ease. Only for drunken play with palace maidens I sold down my fame at that time. With one breath I overturned the Douniu Hall, And ate the Queen Mother’s Lingzhi greens. The Jade Emperor himself struck me two thousand times, Sending me down from the three skies. He made me train to sustain my true spirit, Yet below I have become a demon after all. At Gaozhuang, in good spirits, I took a marriage tie, But destiny brought me headlong against Brother Sun. Under the Golden-Hooped Staff I accepted your command; Bowing my head, at last I paid homage to the monk. Carrying loads behind the horse and making earthwork, For in a former life I owed a debt to Tripitaka. Iron-footed Tianpeng, my true surname is Pig, My Dharma name is called Zhu Bajie. The demon heard and shouted, “So you are indeed Tripitaka’s disciple. I have long heard that the meat of Tripitaka’s monk is good; I was just about to take you, and now you happen to appear. I will not spare you. Do not run—fight me.” Zhu Bajie said, “Wretched wretch, you are plainly one who has passed as a Ran-boshi doctor.” The demon asked, “How am I a Ran-boshi?” Zhu Bajie said, “If you are not, how do you know how to wield that club?” The demon, unable to give any answer, rushed close and struck wildly. The two of them fought in the hollow, and it was a hard battle: Nine-toothed dingba and one iron pestle. The dingba, when cast, whirled like crazed wind; The pestle moved with cunning, striking like sudden rain. One was a nameless fiend blocking mountain paths, One was a cursed Tianpeng, master of a rough nature. Why should one of upright nature fear demon or ghost? A high mountain cannot grow out gold from soil. That staff-like posture was like a python from a pool, This dingba came like a dragon breaking from the bank. Their battle cries with “cha-zha” shook hills and rivers, Their roaring might made even the netherworld tremble. Two heroes each displayed their powers, Risking their lives, they wagered their divine arts. Zhu Bajie raised up his menace and brawled with the demon. That monster shouted orders to the small demons to surround Zhu Bajie all together, which we shall leave aside.

Behind Tripitaka, Sun Wukong suddenly gave a cold laugh. Sha Wujing asked, “Brother, why this cold laugh?” Wukong said, “Zhu Bajie truly is simple. When he heard there was monk alms, he got led away by my ruse. He has not returned yet—if he manages to scatter the demon with one blow of the dingba and returns victorious, he’ll boast of merit. If he cannot win and gets taken, then it is my bad fortune. In front, behind, I do not know how many times he will have cursed Bimawun. Wujing, do not speak. I’ll go and see for myself.”

The Great Sage made no effort to alarm Tripitaka. Quietly he pulled one hair from the back of his head, blew out immortal breath, and called, “Transform!” He instantly took his own form, followed Sha Wujing, and kept with Tripitaka. In true form he rose through the air and watched; he saw Zhu Bajie surrounded by the demon, the dingba-flourishing falling into confusion, and gradually finding himself unable to withstand it. Sun Wukong could not stand it. He landed from the cloud-head and called out in a loud voice: “Bajie, do not hurry. Elder Sun has come.” When Zhu Bajie heard Wukong’s voice, he relied on the momentum, grew even more imposing, and, with another blow of the dingba, surged forward. The demon could not hold his ground and said, “This monk was not a match before; why has he now taken to raging?” Zhu Bajie said, “My child, you cannot bully me. My people have come.” He rushed forward in one stroke, and without head or face, struck and surged in. That demon, unable to hold its formation, withdrew with the horde. Seeing the demon defeated, Wukong did not move in close. He turned the cloud, returned directly to where they had started, and with a flick of the hair gathered back his own body. To Tripitaka’s ordinary human eyes, that could not possibly be recognized.

Not long after, Zhu Bajie, having come off with a kind of triumph, returned on his own. He was soiled with drooling saliva, runny nose mucus, and white foam springing up. He came hurrying over, chest heaving, calling, “Master.” Tripitaka saw him and was astonished: “Zhu Bajie, you went to cut grass for the horse. Why have you come back in such a disgraceful state? I suppose there must be people in the mountains with guards, and they would not let you cut any grass?” Zhu Bajie dropped his hooked mace, thumped his chest, and stamped his feet: “Master, do not ask; if I speak, it will shame me alive.” Tripitaka said, “Why would it be so shameful?” Zhu Bajie said, “Elder Brother was teasing me. At first he said there were no demons in the mist and fog, no bad omens, only a good village household where they cook steamed white rice and plain white-flour dumplings for monks’ alms. I believed it, thinking my belly was hungry, and went first to beg some food, merely pretending to cut grass. Yet some demons surrounded me, and we fought for a while. Had my Elder Brother’s Golden-Hooped Staff not helped, I would never have escaped the net and returned.” Wukong laughed from the side: “This fool is blabbering. If you had turned brigand, you would have put yourself into prison men. I was here watching over the Master and never strayed away.” Tripitaka said, “Yes, Wukong has not left me.” Zhu Bajie leapt and shouted, “Master, you do not know—he has a substitute.” Tripitaka said, “Wukong, is it truly possible there is such a demon?”

Wukong could not hide it and, bowing, smiled: “There is a small demon, and it does not dare to harass us. Zhu Bajie, come here, and take one turn of guard. We must protect Master Tripitaka as we cross the steep mountain paths, just like soldiers on campaign.” Zhu Bajie said, “What is there in calling it a campaign?” Wukong said, “You will serve as the general who opens the road and clear the way ahead. If that demon does not come, so be it. If it comes, you fight it, beat it down, and your merit will be counted.” Measuring the demon’s skill as roughly equal to his own, Zhu Bajie said, “Then let me die in its hands first; let me go ahead.” Wukong laughed, “This fool always speaks unlucky words. How will he ever truly improve?” Zhu Bajie said, “Brother, you know the saying: a young lord at a banquet is not satisfied unless he gets drunk; a brave warrior entering battle is never one who leaves without wounds. He says a bad line first, and only later shows his grandeur.” Wukong was pleased, hurriedly hoisted the horse, invited Master Tripitaka to mount, and Sha Wujing took up the luggage. Zhu Bajie followed, and they entered the mountains—nothing further is noted.

That same demon now led a handful of battered little demons back to the home cave, sat high on a cliff, and said nothing. Inside were many household demons; they all came forward and asked, “Great King, you usually go out and return smiling with delight. Why are you worried today?” The old demon said, “You little ones, when I go out as usual to patrol the mountain, I often seize a few men and beasts and bring them back to the lair to support you all. Today fortune is poor; I ran into a worthy opponent.” A young demon asked, “Who is that opponent?” The old demon said, “It is a monk, a disciple of Tripitaka, the pilgrim of the Eastern Land, named Zhu Bajie. He struck me once with his spiked mace and drove me into retreat from the battle. How vexing! I have always heard it said that Tripitaka is an arhat of ten lifetimes’ practice, and that if one eats a single piece of his flesh, one may live long and long-lived like heaven’s own. Yet today he came into my mountain, and I was just about to seize and cook him, not knowing he had such disciples.”

He had not yet finished speaking when one little demon flashed from the group; he wept three choking sobs, then laughed three ringing laughs. The old demon barked, “Why do you cry and laugh?” The little demon knelt and said, “Great King, you said you were going to eat Tripitaka, but Tripitaka’s flesh is not fit to be eaten.” The old demon said, “Everyone says that one bite of him grants long life and life in harmony with Heaven. How can it be that he is not to be eaten?” The little demon said, “If he were fit to eat, he would not be here. Elsewhere there are other demons, and they all would have eaten him by now. He has three disciples.” The old demon said, “Do you know those three?” The little demon said, “His first disciple is Sun Wukong, his third is Sha Wujing, and this is his second disciple, Zhu Bajie.” The old demon asked, “How is Sha Wujing compared with Zhu Bajie?” The little demon said, “About the same.” “And how does that Sun Wukong compare?” the old demon asked. The little demon stuck out his tongue: “I dare not say. Sun Wukong has vast magic, changeful forms in endless ways. Five hundred years ago he threw the Heavenly Court into turmoil. The Twenty-eight Mansions, the Nine Luminaries, the Twelve Principal Stars, the Five Chancellors and Four Chiefs, the East-West constellations, the North and South gods, the Five Peaks and Four Waters, and all the generals of heaven below heaven—none could truly provoke him. How can you dare to try to eat Tripitaka?” The old demon said, “How do you know such detail about him?” The little demon said, “At first I lived with Great King at Lion-Back Ridge, Lion-Back Cave. The Great King there did not know better or worse; he wanted to eat Tripitaka. Sun Wukong used a Golden-Hooped Staff and struck through the gate, and mercilessly he battered him into ruin all the way through his bones, all his joints shattered and severed. Luckily I had some sense and slipped out the back gate, coming here where Great King took me in. This is why I know his methods.” Hearing this, the old demon turned pale in alarm. It was exactly the saying, “Even a great commander fears ominous prophecies.” Hearing his own men speak this way, how could he avoid fear?

Just as they were all in fright, another little demon came forward: “Great King, do not be distressed, do not fear. As the saying goes, ‘let affairs arrive in their proper time.’ If we are to eat Tripitaka, let me set a scheme and seize him.” The old demon said, “What scheme do you have?” The little demon said, “I have a split-petal plum blossom stratagem.” The old demon asked, “What is this called the split-petal plum blossom stratagem?” The little demon said, “Now gather all the demons near the cave and call them out. From a thousand choose a hundred; from a hundred choose ten; from ten choose only three. They must be clever and capable, able to transform themselves; let all three take Great King’s form, wear Great King’s helmet, don Great King’s armor, wield Great King’s mace, and lie in three ambushes. One fights Zhu Bajie, one fights Sun Wukong, and one fights Sha Wujing: leave those three demons as distractions, and pull away the three brothers. Great King, meanwhile, remains in midair and lowers his cloud-grasping hand to seize Tripitaka, as easy as taking an object from a bag, as easy as pinching a black fly in a bowl of water. What difficulty is there?” Hearing this, the old demon rejoiced inwardly: “This is perfect, perfect! This time, if we fail to seize Tripitaka, let it be. If we seize him, I will not be niggardly; I will appoint you the vanguard of the forward ranks.” The little demon kowtowed and thanked him, then summoned the demons. He assembled from the cave both large and small, and truly selected three capable little demons, all of whom changed into Great King’s form, each carrying an iron mace, and waited in ambush for Tripitaka. Further events are not recorded.

So Tripitaka walked ahead carelessly and untroubled, with Zhu Bajie by him on the main road. After some distance, there was a crash and thump by the roadside; a small demon leapt out and rushed forward to seize the Master. Sun Wukong called, “Zhu Bajie, the demon has come—why do you not engage?” Zhu Bajie, unable to tell the true from the false, drew his hook-mace and rushed in to strike wildly. The demon answered by bringing out an iron mace and meeting him. The two fought back and forth in earnest on the lower hillside. Again a loud sound came from the grass, and another monster leapt out and charged for Tripitaka. Wukong said, “Master, no good! Bajie’s eyesight has gone dull; he let that demon come for you. Wait, and let old Sun go and strike it.” Grasping his staff, he dashed forward, shouting, “Where are you going? Face my staff.” The demon offered no reply and raised its mace to meet him. The two collided and charged again on the grassy slope, and as they held each other fast, a wind howled from behind the mountain and another demon sprang out, racing straight toward Tripitaka. Sha Wujing saw this and cried out in alarm, “Master, your elder and second brother have gone blind with each other’s eyes; they let the demon come to carry you off. Sit still on the horse, and let old Sha take him.” The monk made no distinction of friend or foe; he drew his staff and blocked the demon’s iron mace face-to-face. In harsh cries and loud shouts and wild shouting they pressed and fought, and slowly were drawn apart. The old monster, seeing Tripitaka seated alone on the horse, dropped from midair, lowered a five-clawed steel hook, and caught hold of Tripitaka in one grab. Tripitaka threw the horse, lost his stirrups, and was swept away by a rush of wind. Alas! This was precisely:

Even when meditation nature meets demonic trial, it reaches its destined fruit; again on life’s river comes the star of sorrowful calamity.

The old demon dropped his bluster and carried Tripitaka into the cave. “Xianfeng,” he called. The small demon who had devised the scheme stepped forward and knelt down. “No, no,” he said. “Why speak so?” said the old demon. “When the Great Commander has given his word, it is as fixed as white soap. When you could not take Tripitaka before, that would have been enough; now that you have caught him, I have named you Vanguard. Today your clever plan has worked. How can I break my word? Bring Tripitaka here. Tell the youngsters to draw water, clean the cauldrons, carry wood, build the fire, and steam him a little. You and I will each eat a piece of him, and in that way prolong our lives and live long.” Xianfeng said, “Your Majesty, we should not eat him yet.” The old demon replied, “Now that we have taken him, why can we not?” Xianfeng said, “If Your Majesty eats him, no matter. Zhu Bajie could do it, and Sha Wujing could do it. Yet I fear that master Sun Wukong will lash out at us. If he learns we ate him, he will not come to wrestle with us hand to hand. He will only jab the Golden-Hooped Staff into the side of the mountain, make a pitiful hole in it, and topple the whole mountain with it, and then we will have nowhere to hide.” The old demon asked, “Xianfeng, what clever plan do you have?” Xianfeng answered, “On this, do as I suggest. Send Tripitaka to the rear garden and tie him to a tree, and for two or three days do not feed him. First, it will leave him clean inside; second, we can wait until his three companions do not come to the gate to search, and until we hear they have turned back. Then we can take him out and enjoy him in peace. Is it not better than this?” The old demon laughed. “Exactly. Exactly. Xianfeng speaks wisely.” He gave a single order. Tripitaka was brought to the rear garden, tied with a rope to a tree, and all the small demons went ahead to stand waiting.

See how the elder monk was suffering, bound and tied in coils of rope, fastened so tight that he could not break free, tears flowing down his cheeks as he cried, “Disciples, where are you—chasing monsters on the mountain trails? A wild demon seized me and dragged me here. To suffer here thus—when will we meet again? This is killing me!” As the two eyes wept together, someone called from the tree opposite, “Honored elder, have you come in here too?” The monk regained himself: “Who are you?” “That man said, “I am a woodcutter from this mountain. The Mountain Lord seized me the day before yesterday and bound me here; today it has been three days, and he plans to eat me.” With tears, the monk said, “Woodcutter, your death is one body, nothing to hold back. Mine, however, would not be clean at all.” The woodcutter replied, “Elder, you are a monk. You have no father above you, no wife below you. If you die, then you die—what remains of clean or unclean in that?” The monk answered, “I came from the Eastern Land to the Western Heaven to fetch sutras, under the Tang emperor Taizong’s decree, commissioned as a living Buddha, to obtain the true scriptures and to deliver the stray, parentless souls of the netherworld. “If I lose my life now, can I not shame that sovereign and fail this servant of the throne? In the city of the wrongfully dead there are limitless wronged spirits, and though they have hope, it is only slight; never will they rise beyond this life. A whole harvest of merit may be reduced to dust. Tell me, how could this be clean?” Hearing this, the woodcutter, tears falling, said, “Elder, this is the way with your death too; mine is even more heartbreaking. I lost my father in childhood, and my mother has lived as a widow with me. We had no other means. I lived only by cutting firewood. Mother is now eighty-three; only I have cared for her all these years. If I die, who will bury me and see her through old age? Alas, alas! How I am hurt!” Upon hearing this, the monk cried out in full voice, “Pitiful, pitiful! A mountain man still has a heart of filial remembrance, and I, poor monk, only taught him to chant the sutras in vain. To serve lord and to serve parents share one principle: you have filial love, I have loyalty to my ruler.” And thus it was said:

Tearful eyes gazed upon tearful eyes; the heart-broken man sends away the heart-broken man.

Need not speak yet of the hardships besetting Tripitaka. Yet it is told that Sun Wukong fought off the small demon under the knoll of grass and hurried back to the roadside. He did not see the Master, only the white horse and the baggage remained. In alarm, he took up the horse and pack-saddle and searched the hillside. Ah! It was exactly:

The stream that meets disaster meets disaster; even the Great Sage who subdues demons is himself met by demons.

In the end, how he came to find where his Master had gone is still unknown. Let us hear it resolved in the next episode.