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, Sun Wukong, leading the horse and balancing the pack, searched the whole mountain calling for Tripitaka. Suddenly he saw Zhu Bajie come running, panting: "Brother, why are you calling so loudly?" Wukong said, "I do not see Tripitaka. Did you see him?" Zhu Bajie replied, "I was only following the Master with Tripitaka, and you fool me by calling this one a general. I staked my life and fought that demon for a while, and came back alive. The Master was under your watch and Sha Wujing’s watch, and now you ask me that?" Wukong said, "Brother, I do not blame you. You must have been dazzled and let the demon take the Master away. I will go strike that demon. Tell Sha Wujing to watch Tripitaka. Even Sha Wujing is now missing." Zhu Bajie laughed and said, "Likely Sha Wujing has taken the Master out to make offerings." Before more words passed, Sha Wujing arrived. Wukong asked, "Sha Wujing, where has the Master gone?" Sha Wujing said, "The two of you have gone blind-eyed and let the demon snatch him away. I went off to fight that demon, and Tripitaka returned and is now riding the horse." Wukong leapt in sudden rage: "He trapped us all. He trapped us. With a stroke he tore Tripitaka from our side. Under heaven, how can this be?" He could not stop tears from dripping at the corners of his mouth. Zhu Bajie said, "Do not cry; if you cry it will make a sore. Wherever we are, it is not far, and it is all on this mountain. Let us keep searching."

The three had no way to think of a solution, so they had to enter the mountain and search. They went on for about twenty li when, beneath the cliff, they saw a cave-manor:

Peaks cut and half-hidden, strange rocks rose in jagged ridges. Wondrous flowers and jewel grasses gave forth sweet fragrance; red apricots and green peaches burned like brilliance. Before the cliff stood ancient trees, their frost-burnished bark slick from rain, wide as forty spans; outside stood dark pines, ink-dark, rising through the sky for two thousand feet. Paired wild cranes came often to the cave-mouth to dance in the clean wind; paired mountain birds sang from the tops of branches in the bright daytime. Clusters of yellow vines hung like cords; lines of misty willow bent down like chains of gold. A square pool held gathered water, with a deep cave-mouth clinging to the mountain. The square pool held gathered water, hiding a dragon in deep form with unchanged old scales; the deep hollow by the mountain was the home of a demon-male who had eaten men for years. Truly it was no less than a divine realm, truly a nest that gathers and hoards wind and breath.

Wukong saw it. In two or three strides he jumped to the gate and looked it over. The stone gate was tightly shut, and across its face was laid a slab with eight large characters: "Cave of Interlinked Peaks in the Hidden-Mist Mountain." Wukong said, "Bajie, take action. This is where the demon lives. Tripitaka must be in his house too." The pig monk stepped forward and swung his crowbar with force, smashing out a large hole in the stone gate. He shouted, "Demon, send out my master quickly, or I will drive this gate down with the crowbar and bring ruin on your whole household."

A demon-guard dashed inside in haste to report: "Great King, a catastrophe has broken in." The old fiend asked, "What sort of catastrophe?" The little demon said, "Someone before the gate has broken it, shouting that he demands the Master." The old king was startled: "Do you know who came to seek him?" The vanguard said, "Do not fear, let me go out and see." That little demon ran to the front gate and, peering through the hole, cocked his head out and looked. Seeing a long snout and large ears, he turned back and shouted, "Great King, do not fear him. This is only Zhu Bajie. He has no real skill and does not dare to be insolent. If he turns insolent, open the gate and bring him in to steam him. The only one to fear is that shaggy-faced, thunder-mouthed monk." Zhu Bajie outside heard this and said, "Brother, he is not afraid of me, only of you. The Master must be in his house; go forward at once." Wukong snapped, "Wretch, fool beast, your grandfather by marriage, Sun Wukong is here. Send out Tripitaka and I may spare your life." The vanguard reported, "Great King, it is bad: Sun Wukong has come seeking as well." The old demon complained, "All this is because of your 'split-petal, split' trick—now trouble has come to the gate. What is to happen now?" The vanguard answered, "Great King, do not fret yet. I remember that Sun Wukong is a broad-minded, great-hearted Monkey Lord. Though his powers are vast, he likes flattery. Let us send out a fake head, fool him once or twice with praise. Then say that Tripitaka has been eaten by us. If we can fool him and send him away, Tripitaka still remains for our use. If we fail, we will deal with him afterward." The old king said, "Where do we get a fake head?" The vanguard said, "Let me make one."

The wicked demon ordered one of the minor fiends to take a steel axe-knife and cut a willow root into the shape of a human head, splash it with blood, and make it crudely, smeared, and mottled. He then gave it to a small demon and said to carry it to the gate. At the gate the demon called out, "Great Sage, please quiet your anger and listen." Wukong, who loved such flattery, heard the words "Great Sage" and told Zhu Bajie to stay still. "Wait, let us see what is to be said." The small demon holding the tray said, "Your Master was taken by our Great King into the cave. The little demons in the cave are unruly and do not know right from wrong. This one swallowed him, that one gnawed him, one grabbed, one bit—every one has eaten him until only a head remains, and that is here." Wukong said, "If he has eaten him, then so be it—just bring out the head and I will see if it is true or false." The little demon threw that head out through the hole in the gate. Zhu Bajie saw it and burst into tears: "Alas, poor thing! That Master went in, and such a Master came out!" Wukong said, "Piggy, tell me whether it is genuine or fake. Do not weep yet." Zhu Bajie said, "What’s to shame? Can one tell if a human head is true or false?" Wukong said, "A real head falls with a deadened thud, not a ringing sound; a false head sounds like metal striking metal. If you do not believe it, let me throw it and you may hear." He picked it up and dashed it against the stone. It rang out sharply. Sha Wujing said, "Brother, it rang." Wukong said, "A ringing sound means it is false. I will make it show its true form." He whipped out the Golden-Hooped Staff and in one stroke smashed it. When Zhu Bajie saw, it was a willow root. The pig monk could no longer bear himself and cursed: "You wretched crew of fur and matted hair! You hid Tripitaka in the cave and fooled me with a willow root. Is my Master now a willow-root spirit?"

The little demon who carried the tray, now terrified, ran to report and cried, "Disaster, disaster, disaster!" The old fiend asked, "Why so many disasters?" The minor demon said, "Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing have been fooled, but Sun Wukong is a man who knows antiques; he can tell the worth of an old relic. He has already recognized it as a false head. If we give him a true head now, then perhaps he will go away." The old king said, "How can we get a true head? In our skin-stripping pavilion there are many untaken heads—pick a fresh one." The demons went at once to the pavilion and chose a fresh human head. They had the scalp gnawed clean, made it smooth and polished, then brought it out on the tray and called, "Great Sage, the earlier one was fake. This one is truly Tripitaka’s head. Our Great King keeps it as the guardian spirit of the estate. We now offer it out." With a dull thud the so-called human head was thrown out through the hole in the gate, blood beading and running wildly.

Wukong knew the head was real, and he had no choice but to weep. Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing wept aloud together as well. Wiping his tears, Zhu Bajie said, "Brother, do not cry. It is not good weather for tears; if we cry too much, it may become foul. Let me take it away first. I will bury it in my anger, and then we can weep again." Wukong said, "That is true." The pig monk, caring nothing for impurity, carried the head in his arms, ran up the cliff to a sunny place, and sought a windy, protected spot. He used a crowbar to dig a pit, buried the head, and built a mound over it. Then he told Sha Wujing, "You and your elder brother cry here. I am going to fetch what offerings we can for him." He went down toward the ravine, pulled several large willow branches and picked up a few goose-eggs-sized pebbles. Returning to the grave, he stuck branches on either side, then heaped the pebbles in front. Wukong asked, "What does this mean?" Zhu Bajie answered, "These willow branches stand in for evergreen pine and cypress to shelter the grave-top of the Master. These pebbles stand in for snack-like offerings to make our offering." Wukong barked, "Fool, he is dead and you still feed him with pebbles." Zhu Bajie said, "We must show our humane intent; these are tokens of filial devotion." Wukong said, "Do not play games. Sha Wujing, stay here: one, to tend this grave; two, to guard our baggage and horse. I will go with you and break his cavehouse, seize the demon, shred the carcass into ten thousand pieces, and take vengeance for the Master." Sha Wujing, tears falling, said, "Elder Brother, your words are exactly right. You two attend carefully; I will keep watch here."

Good. Zhu Bajie at once removed his waxed-silk ritual robe, bound tight a short garment to his body, and took up the crowbar to follow Wukong. The two moved forward with all their force so fast that one could not distinguish one from the other, and they smashed straight through his stone gate, crying out so that their voices shook the sky: "Give back Tripitaka alive!" The various demons of the cave, large and small, were shaken to the core, their souls and spirits fleeing, and all blamed the vanguard for this mess. The old demon asked the vanguard, "These monks have broken into the gate—how shall we deal with them?" The vanguard replied, "The ancients have it right: 'Once your hands are in the fish basket, you cannot escape the fishy smell.' Do not pause, do not stop. All of you, lead the household troops and go forth to kill those monks." Hearing this, the old demon had no counter. He issued the order at once: "Minions, all of you, unite your minds. Bring your sharpest arms and follow me to march out." At once they all shouted and surged out through the cave gate.

The Great Sage and Zhu Bajie hurriedly stepped back a few paces, came out on the level ground of the mountain, and blocked off the demons. He called out, “Which of you is the famous leader? Which is the demon that took my Tripitaka?” The demons dropped their encampment. A silk banner with embroidered flowers flashed once, and the old demon, staff in hand, answered at once: “Reckless monk, you do not even recognize me. I am the Great King of South Mountain, roving here for hundreds of years. I have already taken and eaten your Tripitaka—what more will you do?” Sun Wukong shouted back, “You rash, bristly wretch! How old do you think you are that you dare use the name ‘South Mountain’? Old Master Li, who opened heaven and split the earth, still has his seat to the right of Taiqing. The Buddha is lord of all that governs the world and still sits below the Great Roc. Sage Confucius is the highest of the Confucian way, yet he is called only ‘Master.’ You, beastly monster, dare call yourself ‘Great King of South Mountain,’ after so many years of wild living? Do not run. I’ll give you one staff-blow that your old granddaddy won’t forget.” That demon sidestepped the strike, raised his flail to block Wukong’s staff, and asked with bulging eyes, “Your face is that of a monkey; how dare you bury me in so many words? By what means do you dare to run wild under my gate?” Wukong laughed and said, “You nameless beast-spawn! You do not know old Sun at all. Stand still, hold your nerve, and hear what I say:

I first hailed from Great Eastern Victory, where heaven and earth contained me for many ten-thousand autumns. At the top of Flower-Fruit Mountain stood a sacred stone egg; when it cracked, my root and bud were born. I am not like common men in birth, for my saintly body came first from the pairing of sun and moon. My nature has cultivated itself and is no trifle; heaven-begotten, my understanding is quick, a head of great elixir. The Great Sage was appointed to the Cloud Office, and by his power he fought through all by force. Ten thousand celestial troops cannot approach me; all the stars in heaven can be drawn in and subdued. My name is known throughout heaven and earth, my wit and understanding penetrate the whole cosmos. Now, happily, I have returned to the Buddha’s teaching, upholding the Venerable Elder as we go westward. Meet a mountain, and I clear a road; meet water, and I cross a bridge where monsters are troubled. In the woods I struck down tiger and leopard, and before the cliffs my hands again seized a qilin. If the Western Holy Land is the goal from the East, what fiend dares to dare to show its head? Wretch who injured my Master is truly hateful; now I shall have your time of life ended at once. The demon grew startled and angry, bit down hard, and leapt forward to strike Wukong. Wukong lightly parried with his staff and still wanted to speak, but Zhu Bajie could not endure it and thrust with his crescent pike into the demon’s vanguard. The vanguard captains arrived with the whole host. What happened on the mountain’s flat ground was a truly terrible melee: The monk of the great state in the East, from high lands, goes west for the true scripture of Sukhavati. The leopard of South Mountain spurts wind and fog; in the deep hills alone his power is shown. Trick by trick and clever ploy, he deceives and snares the foolish and by mistake seizes the monk of Tang. Encountering the Great Sage of vast powers, and also Zhu Bajie of renown. Demons in crowds battle together on the even slope, dust rises and the sky is not clear. On this side, gods and monks cry out and command, pikes and clubs rise together. The Great Sage, peerless hero in combat, Wuneng strong as a wrestler, came gladly to contend. The old demon of Nanyue and his vanguard fought for one piece of the Tang monk’s flesh, and so were ready to die and forget life. These two sides became enemies over the Master’s life; these two, for Tang Monk, hold evil enmity beyond measure. Clash after clash they meet, ramming and charging with no clear winner.

Sun Wukong saw how fiercely those small demons fought, unable to be beaten off. He used the multiple-body technique: he plucked out a handful of hairs, chewed them, spat them out, and shouted, ‘Transform!’ They each became his own form, each carrying a Golden-Hooped Staff, and drove in from the front. Those one or two hundred demons could not guard their front or their back, their right or their left. One by one they fled apart, running back to their cave in disarray. Wukong and Zhu Bajie cut their way out from the formation; pitifully, the ignorant demons who rushed at them were struck by pike and club, blood spouted from all nine orifices. Their bones and flesh turned to mud. At this, the Great King of South Mountain, frightened into a misty blur of wind and sand, escaped with his life. The foremost demon could not transform and was struck down at once by Wukong’s single staff blow, revealing his true form as an iron-backed gray wolf demon. Zhu Bajie stepped forward, seized its feet, and looked it over, saying, “That one has stolen and eaten so many pig canines and lambs since he was a child.” Wukong shook himself, drew in the hairs, and said, “Bajie, do not delay. Go quickly after the old demon and recover the Master’s life.” Turning back, Zhu Bajie said, “Brother, all the little forms are gone.” Wukong answered, “I already withdrew them.” Zhu Bajie said, “Marvelous. Marvelous!” The two were delighted with joy and returned in triumph.

That old demon saved his life by fleeing back into the cave and ordered his minions to haul stone and move earth, blocking the front gate. The escaping demons, trembling one by one, blocked that gate as well and then would not dare to show their heads again. Wukong led Zhu Bajie to the gate and shouted, but there was no answer from inside. When Zhu Bajie tried to push with his pike, he found the gate could not be moved. Seeing this, Wukong said, “Bajie, do not waste your strength. He has blocked the gate already.” Zhu Bajie said, “If the gate is blocked, how can we avenge the Master’s injury?” Wukong said, “Then return first to the grave-mound. Go check on Sha Wujing.”

The two returned to their previous place and found Sha Wujing still crying. Zhu Bajie became even more sorrowful, dropped his pike, fell onto the mound, and beat at the soil with his hands as he cried, “Wretched Master! Master so far from home! Where shall we see you again?” Wukong said, “Brother, do not grieve so wildly. The demon blocked the front gate; there must be a back gate too. You two stay here for now. I will go search again.” Zhu Bajie wiped his tears and said, “Brother, be careful not to get yourself pulled in too. If they catch you as well, we won’t be able to cry properly—cry one call for Master, one call for Brother, and our crying will break apart.” Wukong said, “No worry. I have ways.”

The Great Sage put away his staff, tightened his robe, pulled himself together, and crossed the slope. Suddenly he heard a murmuring rush of water. When he looked back, it proved to be the stream at the ravine, and from the upper edge it rushed downward in a surge. He saw on the far side of the ravine a gate, with a dark discharge groove beside it to the left. “Needn’t discuss it,” he said. “That is the back gate. If I go in my own face, some of the little demons might open and recognize me. Let me pass as a water snake. Wait—if I become a water snake, my Master’s spirit might think it an inauspicious sight, and blame that an ordained man had changed into a snake and coiled long. Better go as a little water crab. No, that is not good either; he might think a monk with too many feet.” He therefore changed into a water rat, whooshed through and slipped through the outlet-channel into the inner courtyard. Peering ahead, he saw a small demon on the sunny side, laying out and drying pieces of human flesh. Wukong said, “My son, that cannot be Master’s flesh to eat; he must be drying these strips so they won’t spoil in damp weather. I will show my true form, rush in, and strike him dead with one staff-swing, letting myself look fearless. I will still change form again and go inside to seek that old demon and see what state he is in.” He leapt from the groove and changed form again, into a winged ant. Truly:

My strength is slight, my body small, yet in secret I had long trained into a winged steed. At leisure I marshal the lines by the crossing, and beneath a bed I delight in celestial fighting-gifts. Knowing well when rain is near, I often seal the hidden hole until the heaped dust becomes gray ash. So light and nimble, so deft and clean, many times I pass the grass-door unnoticed. He spread his wings and moved noiselessly and without shadow straight into the main hall. The old demon sat there troubled and vexed. A small demon leapt in from behind and reported, “Great King, happy news.” The old demon said, “Where has happiness come from?” The little demon said, “I was just scouting near the back gate by the ravine mouth when I suddenly heard someone crying loudly. I scrambled up to the ridge and looked over. It was Zhu Bajie, Sun Wukong, and Sha Wujing crying before a grave-mound, as if they had buried a head they took for Tripitaka’s and raised a tomb and wept.” Wukong heard this in secret and rejoiced to himself: “If that is so, my Master is still hidden there and not yet eaten. I will go look further and see what life and death he is in, then I will speak with him.”

The Great Sage flew into the main hall and looked right and left. He saw a small side door near the wall, tightly closed. Crawling through the crack and peering in, he found a large courtyard; faintly he could hear weeping. He flew deeper in and saw at once a great clump of trees. Under one tree were two men bound; one of them was Tripitaka. When Wukong saw this, he could not keep still; he revealed his true form and came forward crying, “Master.” The Venerable Elder recognized him and, with tears, said, “Wukong, you have come? Help me quickly. Wukong, Wukong.” Wukong said, “Master, do not keep calling only my name. There are people here and he may use the wind to slip away. Since you are still alive, I can rescue you. That demon had claimed he already ate you and used a fake head to deceive me, and because of that we have been held in bitter contention over our vows. Do not worry, Master. Endure a little longer. Once I knock that fiend down, I will come and free you.”

The Great Sage murmured the sound-incantation, then once more shifted his body back into an ant and slipped into the main hall again, this time into the central beam. There were those lesser demons, all unhurt, huddling close in tight clusters, chattering noisily. Suddenly one little demon sprang out and reported, “Great King, they saw the gate blocked and could not break in, so they resigned themselves to failure and, having set aside Tripitaka, made a fake head into a grave. One day they will cry, tomorrow another day, and on the third day again, and then they can go home. Once they heard the crowd had dispersed, they meant to drag out Tripitaka, cut him into pieces, fry him with rich ingredients, and have everyone eat him in one hot, fragrant batch, to gain long life.” Another little demon clapped his hands and said, “Do not doubt it; steaming him is tastier.” Another said, “If we boil him, we save on firewood.” Another said, “He is a rare sort of creature; salt-cure him a little and he will keep a long time.” From that beam, the Great Sage heard this and grew furious: “What mortal hatred do you have toward my Master that you plan to cook and eat him?” He plucked out a fistful of hairs, chewed them in his mouth, blew them out softly while silently reciting the spell, and made them into sleepbugs, then threw them onto the faces of the demons. One by one they crawled into the nostrils. The little demons slowly grew drowsy, and in no time all had fallen asleep. Only the old demon could not settle. He rubbed his head and face with both hands, kept sniffling and blowing his nose, pinching at it. Sun Wukong thought, "Has he discovered us? Give him a double spell." He plucked another hair and made a pair of insects from it, then tossed them onto his face so they drilled into his nostrils. One bug entered from the left, one from the right. The old demon stood up, stretched his back, yawned twice, and soon he too was snoring and unconscious.

Sun Wukong, pleased in secret, leapt down at once and revealed his true form. From his ear he drew out his staff, gave it a sweep; it was as thick as a duck egg. With a sharp dang, he smashed through the side door, ran to the rear garden, and cried out, “Tripitaka!” Tripitaka said, “Disciple, come quickly and untie these ropes. They have bound me up badly.” Sun Wukong answered, “Master, do not worry. Let me kill the demon first, then I will come and release you.” He hurriedly pulled away, ran into the central hall, and raised his staff to strike, then checked himself: “Not good—let me free the Master first and then strike.” He came back to the garden again. Again he thought, “Let me strike now and then go save [you].” Not until the third round did he finally dance and leap into the garden area. When the Master saw him, in sadness turned to joy he said, “Little monkey, I suppose you saw that you had not harmed my life and became so happy you cannot stay still, that is why you dance like this?” Sun Wukong went straight to him, untied the cords, and took hold of the Master’s arm to lead him away. Then he heard a bound man in the tree opposite call out, “My lord, with great compassion, spare me too!” Tripitaka stopped still and said, “Wukong, untie that man as well.” Sun Wukong asked, “Who is he?” Tripitaka said, “He was taken in before me by a day. He is a woodcutter. He says his mother is old and he worries for her; he is an exceedingly filial son. We should save him too in one turn.”

Sun Wukong followed suit and untied the bonds as well, and together they went out through the back gate, leapt up the stone cliff, and crossed the steep ravine. Tripitaka said in thanks, “Virtuous disciple, you have saved his life and mine. Where are Wukong’s brothers, Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing?” Sun Wukong replied, “Both of them are there, crying for you. Call them out.” Tripitaka did call out with a strong voice, “Zhu Bajie! Zhu Bajie!” The pig, dazed with tears and crying, wiped nose and eyes and said, “Sha Wujing, Master has returned from death itself to show himself to us. Why did he summon us from there?” Sun Wukong came forward and shouted, “You oaf, what show of soul is this? Is this not your Master returning?” The Sha monk raised his head to see and hurriedly knelt before him: “Master, how much suffering did you endure! How did elder brother save you to return?” Sun Wukong then recounted the events from before.

Hearing this, Zhu Bajie ground his teeth in rage and could not help but raise his spade and crash through the grave mound, digging out the corpse’s head and reducing it to a rotten, smashed mess. Tripitaka asked, “Why did you dig up that one?” Zhu Bajie answered, “Master, I did not know whose dead man he was; someone told me to face him and weep.” The Master said, “Thanks be to him who saved my life. You and your brothers pounded upon his door and shouted for me, likely to have him hold me in place as an excuse; otherwise they would have killed me outright. Then they even buried him, for all to seem they respected us as laymen of the road.” Hearing this, the pig took the soggy lump of bone and flesh and buried it down, then raised a grave mound anew.

Sun Wukong laughed and said, “Master, please sit for a moment. Let me clear them out first.” He jumped down from the cliff again, crossed the ravine, entered the cave, and took the ropes that bound Tripitaka and the woodcutter back into the main hall. The old demon was still asleep, so he was tied up like a four-limbed horse and laid prone, then Sun Wukong lifted the Golden-Hooped Staff and carried it on his shoulder, leaving by the back gate. From afar Zhu Bajie called, “Brother, you handle this head-carrying trade well. Wouldn’t it help to find another lad to shoulder-load it?” Sun Wukong set the staff down by him. Sha Wujing raised his spade to strike. Sun Wukong said, “Wait. There are still lesser demons in the cave not yet taken.” The pig replied, “Brother, if so take me in and I’ll fight them.” Sun Wukong said, “Fighting will cost too much effort. Better gather some fuel and make their roots break.” Hearing this, the woodcutter led Zhu Bajie into the eastern hollow and found broken bamboo tops, rotten-leaf pine, hollow pines, rootless vines, yellow mugwort, old reed grass, reed stalks, and dried mulberry bark, carrying several loads into the back gate. Sun Wukong lit the fire; Zhu Bajie fanned with both ears. The Great Sage sprang up, shook himself, and retracted the hair-sleepbugs. As the little demons woke, smoke and flame rose together. Alas, not one could imagine surviving. The cave residence burned utterly to emptiness. He went back to the Master. Hearing the old demon’s first waking cry, the Master called out, “Disciple, the demon spirit is awake.” Zhu Bajie stepped forward and with one spade blow killed the old demon, who dropped his disguise and revealed his true form: it was an Aiye leaf-skin leopard spirit. Sun Wukong said, “A flower-skin leopard can eat a tiger, and now it can also become a man. Killing this one at once cuts off later trouble.” The Master thanked him beyond measure, and climbed onto his saddle and mounted. The woodcutter said, “My lord, not far to the southwest is my hut. Please come to the hut, see my mother, thank her for the life you saved, and send the lord on his way.”

The Master was pleased, and therefore did not ride. He walked along with the woodcutter and the four companions toward the southwest; after only a short way, they indeed saw this:

The stone path is thick with moss. Pine-gate hedges are wrapped in climbing vines and blossoms. On all four sides the mountain light joins together; a thicket of birds and sparrows clamors. Pine groves and bamboo stand dense and green together; countless strange herbs and rare blossoms crowd in bloom. In a secluded place where the clouds grow deep is a home: a reed fence, a thatched hut. From afar they saw an old woman leaning on a timber door, tears brimful in her eyes, crying wildly as if heaven and earth had split. Seeing this was his own mother, the woodcutter dropped the Master, ran ahead to the door, and knelt down crying, “Mother, your son has come.” The old woman caught him up in her arms and said, “My child, for these many days you have not come home. I kept saying the mountain lord had carried you off and ruined your life; my heart could not bear the thought. If you were not harmed, why only now come? Where are your shoulder-basket and your axe?” The woodcutter knelt and said, “Mother, I was taken by the mountain lord and bound to a tree; my life was nearly lost. It was only by these good lords that I still live. That lord is a monk from Tang in the Eastern Capital, bound for the western skies to fetch scripture and become a true monk. That lord too was taken and tied to a tree by the mountain lord. His three disciples, those lords, had immense powers and one blow beat that mountain lord to death. It was an Aiye leaf-skin leopard spirit. All the other lesser demons were burned to death as well, yet they untied that lord and rescued him, and saved even your son too. This truly is a debt as vast as heaven and earth. Without them, my son would surely have died. Now peace has returned to the mountain; your son can go all through the night with no danger.

The old woman, on hearing this, bowed once at each step, welcoming Master Tripitaka and the four in attendance; all entered the hut of thorn-fence and thatch and sat down. Mother and daughter knelt and thanked them endlessly, then hurriedly laid out a humble plain-vegetarian meal. Zhu Bajie said, “Woodcutter, I know your house is poor; a single simple meal is enough—do not trouble yourself with grand arrangements.” The woodcutter said, “I should not deceive you, Reverend. Here in the hills we are truly poor: no fragrant mushrooms, no porcini, no Sichuan pepper, no spice. I can offer only a few kinds of wild greens as a sign of my sincere heart.” Zhu Bajie laughed, “Noisy fellow, no, no. Hurry it up—our bellies are already hungry.” The woodcutter replied, “There is, there is.” In no time he spread out tables and stools and brought them in; it was indeed only a few plates of wild vegetables, and one could see:

Tenderly blanched yellow-flower greens, with a sour paste of white su and gu-ding. Floating wild qiang, horse-tooth amaranth; river amaranth and yāncháng yīng. Fragrant, tender “swallow-nonreturn” greens, buds small and crisp and still green. Slowly stewed malan heads and white-roasted dog-foot traces. Cat-ear, wild luobì, ash-stripe, all well softened and fit to eat. Scissor-strings, ox-pond tips, and upside-down-siphoned snail-herb broom chives. Crushed-grain amaranth, lettuce amaranth: a few kinds of fragrant greens, all slippery and smooth. Oil-fried dark-ying blossoms, the water-shape (cabbage-like) among all, quite admirable. Pugen root greens and jiaor greens, four kinds from near water, all clearly fine. Mai-niang—delicate and beautiful. Puo-ni not for stepping on. Bitter hemp trellis beneath the ridge fence. Sparrow-cotton and monkey-foot traces, fried in hot oil until glossy and the best to taste. Sly-green mugwort and green mugwort hugging each other, while moths leap to the board millets. Lamb’s-ear, wolfberry tops, with indigo added without oil. Such many wild greens made one good meal, all offered by the woodcutter in humble devotion. The teachers and disciples dined until satisfied, then packed to depart. The woodcutter dared not stay long; he asked his mother to come out once more to bow and offer thanks. The woodcutter only knelt, took a jujube-wood staff, gathered up his skirt, and came out to see them off at the gate. Sha Wujing led the horse, Zhu Bajie hoisted the load, Sun Wukong kept close on either side, and Tripitaka, still in the saddle, folded his hands and said, “Woodcutter, please go ahead and lead the way to the main road, then we will part there.” The party climbed up and down the slope together, crossing ravines and searching the hillsides. On horseback, Tripitaka reflected: Ever since we left our lord and came to the Western Regions, step upon step the road runs far and long. Mountain after mountain, disasters never cease; demon after demon, and terrible fates that will not be escaped. In heart after heart, only this Canon is held in mind; in thought after thought, I still seek to ascend to the Ninth Heaven. How long will this weary, ceaseless labor last, when shall this pilgrimage be fulfilled and we return to Tang?” The woodcutter heard and said, “Reverend, do not worry. Along this Great Road, when one goes westward, the distance to Tianzhu, the land of bliss, is not yet a thousand li.” Tripitaka heard this, dismounted, and said, “Your effort has been great in going so far. Since this is the main road, please return to your home. Bow my repeated respects to Lady Anren. I have only disturbed your full feast; this poor monk has no real return to offer, only this: every day and every evening I will recite the sutras and pray for peace and long life for you and your mother.” The woodcutter nodded as he took leave, and returned to his own way. The masters and disciples kept on steadily toward the west. It was truly so: Subduing demons, untying wrongs, releasing beings from sorrow and disaster, repaid by grace, they proceeded on the road with wholehearted intent.

In the end, no one yet knows how many days remain before they reach the Western Heaven; for now, listen to the next chapter for its full unfolding.