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.

After joyfully bidding farewell to the county marquis, Tripitaka, still in the saddle, called to Sun Wukong: “Worthy disciple, this merit of yours is truly greater than the rescue of children in the Bhikṣu kingdom; it is all your doing.” Sha Wujing said: “In the Bhikṣu kingdom only one thousand one hundred and eleven children were saved. How can that compare with this great downpour, all-soaking and life-giving, by which ten thousand times ten thousand lives were preserved? Your junior disciple also praises in secret Brother Sun’s sky-reaching powers and earth-covering benevolence.” Zhu Bajie laughed: “Brother has done kindness, and indeed done good, but only outwardly shows grace and righteousness while hiding peril within. To travel with old Pig, all one gets is to be trodden upon. Where am I being trampled?” Sun Wuking replied: “Where would I trample you?” Zhu Bajie said: “Enough, enough. You always tend my bindings, tend my hanging, tend my boiling, and tend my steaming. Now here in Fengxian County you have shown kindness to myriad people; you should stay for half a year, carry me to eat a few full, carefree meals, and yet only keep pressing us onward.” Hearing this, the Master thundered: “You fool, why are you thinking only about your mouth? Walk on quickly, and do not argue anymore.” Zhu Bajie dared not speak. He cupped his mouth shut, hoisted his pack, and laughed foolishly as they all ran along the great road. At that time the passage of time felt as swift as a shuttle, and it was already deep autumn, but this was seen:

The water stains have withdrawn and the mountains stand lean. Scarlet leaves whirl in torrents, the yellow flowers are at their time. Frost-cleansed moonlight makes the nights feel long, and pale moonlight pierces through windows. In every home, hearth-smoke and evening sun are plenty; everywhere lake-light slips over cold water. The white cattails scent the air; crimson smartweed grows thick. Greenish orange and yellow tangerine, withered willows, flourishing grain. In abandoned villages the geese come down among broken reed blossoms; at wild inns, chickens call out while the sound gathers among beans and peas. After the four had walked for quite a while, they again saw the shadowy outline of city walls. The Master raised his whip, pointed afar, and called out: “Wukong, look there—another city, yet we know not what place.” Sun Wukong answered: “Neither of us has ever been there; how could we know? Let us go up to the edge and ask people.” Before he had finished, suddenly a man came out from a thicket of trees: a bamboo staff in hand, light robes on his body, a pair of brown shoes on his feet, and a flat belt around his waist. Startled, Tripitaka rolled from the saddle and dismounted, stepping forward to offer proper greetings. The old man braced on his staff and returned the courtesy: “Which land has the Elder come from?” Tripitaka joined his palms: “This poor monk is a pilgrim from the Great Tang of the eastern lands, sent to Leiyin to worship Buddha and seek the scriptures. I have arrived in this Precious Territory and, seeing the city walls from afar, do not know its whereabouts; I beg this elder householder to give instruction.” Hearing that, the old man said: “Venerable Patriarch, this humble place is in the Tianzhu kingdom, a lower prefecture called Yuhua County. The lord of this city is a kinsman of the Tianzhu emperor, enfeoffed as King Yuhua. He is a very worthy king, reverent toward monks and Taoist sages alike, and deeply fond of the common people. If you, Reverend Monk, go to meet him, you will be received with great honor.” Tripitaka thanked him. The old man then slipped straight back through the woods and left.

Tripitaka only then turned and briefed the disciples on what had happened. The three disciples were delighted, and helped Master set him back on the horse. Tripitaka said, “There is not much road ahead, no need to ride.” The four therefore walked to the edge of the city street and looked about. It turned out that the households in that district were engaged in buying and selling, with crowds of people gathering and commerce thriving handsomely. By voice and appearance, they were no different from those of China. Tripitaka instructed: “Disciples, be careful; do not be unrestrained in any way.” Zhu Bajie lowered his head, and Sha Wujing covered his face, while only Sun Wukong supported the Master. People came from both sides and pressed for a look, all calling out at once: “Here we only have high monks who can tame dragon-conquering, tiger-subduing spirits; we have never seen a monk who subdues pigs and tames monkeys.” Zhu Bajie could not help himself; he puckered his mouth and said, “Have you ever seen a monk that subdued the Pig King?” In panic, people across the whole street stumbled and sidestepped in both directions. Sun Wukong laughed: “Idiot, hold your mouth in, do not put on a show, and mind your footing over the bridge.” That fool kept his head down and only smiled. After crossing the hanging bridge and entering through the gate, they saw that on the main street stood taverns and songhouses; it was lively and magnificent—truly a capital city of the Central Plains. A poem attests to this:

Brocade city, iron-walled, firm for ten thousand years, set by water and leaning on the hills, its colours vivid. Goods flow from the lakes, and boats enter the market; a thousand homes draw curtains over taverns of wine. In towers and pavilions, smoke from every home stretches wide; every alley in every dawn is loud with guests and merchants. No less beautiful than the scenery of Chang'an, rooster cries and dog barks sound all the same. Tripitaka quietly rejoiced: “People say that the Western Regions are lands of many tribes, and I have never yet arrived there. Looking carefully at this scene, it is no different from our Great Tang. One might call this truly a Pure Land.” He also heard people say that white rice sold for four qian a shi and sesame oil eight li a jin. Truly this is a land of full grain harvests.

After walking for a while, they at last reached the Yuhua King’s compound. To the left and right of the gate were the Hall of the Chief Clerk, the Tribunal Hall, the Household Kitchen Office, and the Guest Pavilion. Tripitaka said: “Disciples, this is the estate office. I will go in, pay homage to the king, and present my credentials.” Zhu Bajie asked, “If Master goes in, may we stand at the yamen gate?” Tripitaka said: “Do you not see these words ‘Guest Pavilion’ above the gate? You all go there and sit. See if there is grass feed, and buy some for the horses. If I am granted a meal there, I will come and call you to share it.” Sun Wukong said: “Master, go in with your mind at ease; Old Monkey will attend to everything.” Sha Wujing carried the luggage into the pavilion. In the pavilion there were officials and attendants, and seeing their ugly faces, they dared not question them nor tell them to leave; they only let them sit down and make no further move.

The master changed his hat and robes, took the travel credentials, and went straight to the front of the king’s hall. He saw at once a ceremonial usher who came out to receive him and asked: “Elder, whence do you come?” Tripitaka said: “A monk from the Great Tang in the eastern lands has been dispatched to Leiyin to worship Buddha and request scriptures. I have come to this noble land and wish to have my credentials accepted and exchanged; therefore I come to pay court to the Lord of a Thousand Years.” The usher immediately conveyed the report. The Yuhua King was indeed wise and capable; he at once issued an order of summons. Tripitaka offered his bows in the hall, and the king invited him up and granted him a seat. Tripitaka presented the credentials. The king read them, saw seals from many countries and the hand impressions beneath, and gladly impressed the royal seal, added vermilion script, and set the folded paper on the desk. He asked: “Venerable Master from the Great Tang, from your homeland to here, having traveled through many kingdoms, how many distances have you covered in all?” Tripitaka answered: “This poor monk has not kept count of the miles. But many years ago, Guanyin Bodhisattva once revealed himself before my sovereign and left a verse, saying that the Western Regions are ten thousand and eight thousand li away. This poor monk, along with this road, has already endured fourteen cycles of cold and warmth.” The king smiled: “Fourteen cycles of cold and warmth means fourteen years. I suppose there must have been some delays along the way?” Tripitaka said: “It is hard to tell in one phrase. A myriad hidden monsters and ten thousand demons—who can know how much suffering was borne to arrive at this Precious Land?” The king was very pleased and instructed the official in charge of the kitchen to prepare a vegetarian meal. Tripitaka said: “I beg to report, Your Majesty: the poor monk has three young disciples waiting outside, and does not dare to receive alms alone, yet fears delay to the journey.” The king ordered: “Summons the hall officials; go quickly and call the Elder’s three disciples, so that they may enter the residence and share this meal.”

The hall official went out to issue the summons at the gate, and all of them said, “Never seen, never seen.” One of the attendants said, “In the Guest Pavilion there are three grim-looking monks seated; surely they must be those.” When the hall official and company came to the pavilion, he asked the host there: “Which is the senior disciple of the Tripitaka monk from the Great Tang? My lord has ordered that they be invited to the meal.” Zhu Bajie had been dozing while seated. Hearing the word “meal,” he could not help himself and sprang up, answering, “We are, we are.” At first glance, the hall official was shaken to the core, his soul seeming to leave him; he spoke timidly, “It is a pig spirit, a pig spirit.” Sun Wukong heard and pulled Zhu Bajie: “Brother, keep more civil, do not act rough and rustic.” The officials then saw Sun Wukong and exclaimed: “It is a monkey spirit, a monkey spirit.” Sha Wujing clasped his hands and said: “Gentlemen, do not be alarmed. All three of us are disciples of Tripitaka.” The officials repeated: “Zaojun, Zaojun.” Sun Wukong then told Zhu Bajie to lead the horse and Sha Wujing to carry the pole-load, and with everyone together they entered the Yuhua King’s residence. The hall official entered first and conveyed the report.

The king lifted his gaze and saw those ugly faces, yet he too was inwardly fearful. Tripitaka folded his hands and said: “Your Majesty, do not worry. Though unruly disciples are hideous in appearance, they all have upright hearts.” Zhu Bajie bowed up to the side and said, “The poor monk makes his respectful greeting.” The king became even more uneasy. Tripitaka explained: “These unruly disciples were taken in from the wilds and fields; they do not know how to observe proper ceremony. Kindly forgive their offense.” Fearful though he was, the king ordered the steward of provisions to invite all the monks to the Canopy Pavilion for the meal. Tripitaka thanked him and, descending from the hall with the Master, complained on the way: “You foolish lump, not knowing a single point of decorum. If only you would keep silent, that would do; why such rudeness? A single word from you could bring down Mount Tai.” Sun Wukong laughed: “Even better if I do not bow at all—then I would save some strength.” Sha Wujing said: “When he does bow, he does so out of time and already begins with shouting through his mouth.” Zhu Bajie said: “A lively rascal, a lively rascal. The day before, Master taught me that greeting and asking after health is proper when meeting a person; today, even in making greetings, you say it is wrong. Why do you tell me to do such a thing?” Tripitaka said: “I taught you to offer greetings after meeting others; I did not teach you to drag the speech this far before a prince. As it is said, ‘There are many kinds of things, and there are many kinds of people.’ How could you fail to distinguish between high and low?” As he said this, the official in charge of offerings came leading attendants, moved out the tables and stools, and set out the meal. The Master and disciples made no remark; each ate the meal in silence.

Then the prince withdrew from the hall and re-entered the palace. There were three young princes in the inner court; seeing his face had lost its colour, they asked, “Why is Father so alarmed today?” He said, “A while ago there came a monk from the Great Tang in the Eastern Land, sent on an errand to beg Buddha for the scriptures. He showed me his crossing pass, yet his mien was extraordinary. I made him stay for a vegetarian meal; he said he had disciples at my gate, so I immediately ordered them to be summoned. They arrived shortly, but when they entered and did not make full obeisance to me or give proper greetings, I was not pleased. Then when I raised my head and saw them, each looked ugly as a demon, and I was startled in my heart—hence my face changed color.” It turned out these three young princes were unlike others; each was strong and mighty, so they curled their sleeves and raised their fists, saying, “Could these not be mountain demons from the wild, pretending to be men? Let us take up weapons and check them.”

The eldest prince took a Qimei staff, the second brandished a nine-toothed halberd, and the third wielded an oiled-black staff. Broad-shouldered and proud, they strode out of the pavilion and shouted, “Where is that monk seeking the scriptures?” Some pantry officials knelt and said, “Your Highness, they are at the Baosha Pavilion taking the offered meal.” The little prince, with no judgment of good or evil, pushed straight inside and roared, “Are you men or monsters? Speak at once—if not, I will spare your lives only in words.” Tripitaka was startled, his face paling; he dropped his bowl and bent low: “I am a monk from Tang on a scripture mission. I am a man, not a demon.” The prince said, “You at least look like a man; those three hideous ones are surely monsters.” Zhu Bajie kept right on eating, paying no attention. Sha Wujing and the Monkey King bowed and said, “All four of us are men. Though we have ugly faces, our hearts are good; though our bodies are rough, our natures are kind. You three, where did you come from that you are so loud-mouthed and reckless?” An attendant explained, “The three are Your Highness’s young princes.” Zhu Bajie dropped his bowl and said, “Your Highness, why does each of you have a weapon in hand? Are you going to fight us?”

The second prince stepped forward, twirled the halberd with both hands, and prepared to strike at Zhu Bajie. Zhu Bajie chuckled and said, “Your halberd is only good to be a grandson to mine in such a match.” He stripped off his coat, drew out his own halberd at his waist, gave it a swift whirl, and gold rays streamed in ten thousand shafts. He spoke an incantation, and a thousand threads of auspicious vapour rose. The prince, struck with fright, had weak hands and numb limbs and dared not move. Seeing the eldest prince using a Qimei staff, the Monkey King sprang lightly and, from his ear, took out the Golden-Hooped Staff. He gave it one whirl; it was thin as a bowl in girth, and two or three zhang in length. One thrust to the ground made a pit of three feet, and it stood upright there. He laughed, “Take this staff and be done with it.” Hearing this, the prince dropped his own staff and reached for that one, but even with all his strength in both hands he could not move it a hair’s breadth. He then grasped the other end and shook it—yet it held fast like a rooted tree. The third prince, all reckless fury, came down with the oiled-black staff to strike. Sha Wujing split it open with one hand, brought out the Subduing-Demon Treasured Staff, twisted its tip, and a lustrous light flashed forth in flickering scarlet radiance. Even the pantry officials and attendants stood stunned, dazed and unable to speak. The three young princes knelt together and said, “Revered Master, we are but mortals and do not understand. We beg you, show us some skill. We wish to pay homage and learn.” The Monkey King stepped close, lifted the staff easily, and said, “This place is too narrow to display a full performance. Let me jump into the air and show one sequence—you all watch.”

‘Great Sage’ gave a whistle, shook the cudgel, and with both feet stepping on five-coloured auspicious clouds rose into midair, about three hundred paces above the ground. He flung the Golden-Hooped Staff into a move called ‘Flowers Strewn Like a Canopy,’ then ‘Yellow Dragon Turns Around,’ up and down, left and right, spinning. At first one could see man and staff together, like embroidery adorning silk; later the man disappeared and only a single staff could be seen, rolling through the sky. From below, Zhu Bajie called out in approval and could not hold back. He roared, “Let old Pig go show one too.” The good fool mounted the wind himself and rose into the air, tossing the halberd in sweeping arcs—up three, down four, left five, right six, front seven, back eight—with every part of his body put on display. Only the whistling of wind could be heard. When he reached the uproar’s height, Sha Wujing said to the Master, “Master, let old Sha perform as well.” The good monk leapt, staff in hand, into the air. His aura shimmered, and pale gold light spread far. With both hands he tossed the Subduing-Demon Staff in one move, ‘Phoenix of Vermilion Faces the Sun,’ then ‘Hungry Tiger Pounces,’ closing in, retreating to block, then wheeling and darting in haste. The three brothers showed full divine prowess together, all of them in that half-sky, jointly proclaiming and displaying their power. This was then:

The true Zen vision is extraordinary, peerless and vast, The Way’s origin fills all the heavens. Gold and wood deploy their might, overwhelming the Dharma realm, Blade and ritual measure rotate together in perfect completion. Divine weapons show their keen ranks at every instant, Cinnabar vessels bloom with wonder wherever praised. Though Heaven of the Western Region be lofty, restraint is still the path, Prince Yuhua at last returns to the center. The three young princes were terrified and knelt in the dust. All the staff of the Baosha Pavilion, the old king’s household, and all the city’s soldiers and civilians, men and women, monks and nuns and lay people—all came and chanted Buddha’s name, kowtowed and burned incense in every home and court. Truly: Beholding that form that returns to truth and ferries all the monks, In the world of men, merits are made and peace made plain. From now on one truly treads the Bodhi Way, All become seekers of Chan and worshippers of Buddha. Each of the three had fully displayed his martial power, brought down the auspicious clouds, and gathered his weapon. They came before Tripitaka, made their respects, thanked him for the masterly grace, and sat down. No further account is needed.

The three young princes hurried back into the palace and reported to the old king: “Father, this is a hundred-thousandfold joy—today we have achieved a mighty feat. Just now, did you see the displays in the sky?” The king said, “I only saw auspicious colours in the sky and then, with your mother and the rest, burned incense and offered worship in the palace court. I do not know which immortal descended from where.” The prince replied, “It was not one of those. It was exactly the three ugly disciples of that scripture monk. One wielded a Golden-Hooped Staff, one a nine-toothed nail-fork, one the Subduing-Demon Treasured Staff. They were equal to our weapons; not one was inferior. When we asked them to show one set, he said, ‘The ground is narrow; it is no place to stretch out. Let me rise in the air and show you then.’ They mounted the cloud-head one after another. The whole sky was filled with faint auspicious clouds; bright fragrance-like vapour hung in the air. When they came down, all sat in the Baosha Pavilion. The boy—very happy—wished to make him a disciple, learn his methods, and guard our land. This is truly a meritorious deed of the greatest size. I do not know how Father will think of it.” Hearing this, the king accepted the plea at once with whole-hearted conviction.

At that moment the four father-and-son party came out without pavilion carriage, without canopy, and walked to the Baosha Pavilion. The four attendants gathered their luggage and intended to return to the residence to thank and depart, when by chance they saw King Yuhua and his sons coming up to the pavilion and they immediately prostrated themselves. The startled Master hastily straightened and, falling to the ground, returned the reverence; the Monkey King and others slipped to the side with faint cold smiles. After all had bowed, they invited the four to sit in the hall. All four entered with delight. The king rose and said, “Venerable Tripitaka, I have one wish. I do not know whether your three senior disciples might allow it.” Tripitaka said, “I can only obey the command of the Thousand-Year Elder; my junior disciples dare not refuse.” The king said, “When I first saw you all, I took you only for travelling monks from Tang. In truth, with mortal eyes and mortal flesh, I repeatedly treated you with disrespect. Only when I later saw Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing dance in the sky did I realize you were immortal and Buddha-like. My three sons have all their lives been fond of martial arts. Now I make a sincere appeal, desiring to accept them as disciples and learn some martial arts. I beseech you, with a heart that opens heaven and earth, to set in motion your boat of compassion and guide these children. I will repay you with the wealth of this city.” The Monkey King, hearing this, could not help but laugh and say, “Your Highness, you are truly a poor manager. We ordained folk would love nothing more than to transmit a few disciples. Since your sons have a mind to follow the good, do not speak at all of any profit; if there is feeling between us, that alone is enough.”

The prince heard this and was deeply pleased. He ordered a grand banquet at once. In the main hall of the residence, all the seats were set. With one command, all was completed instantly. Behold:

Tresses of bright-coloured silk streamed in fluttering arcs, and fragrant incense smoke rose dense and rich. Gold-rimmed tables hung with tightly bound gauze dazzled the eye. The painted lacquer chairs, covered in brocade, made the seating radiant. Fresh fruit was arranged, tea steam was fragrant in the air. Three or five kinds of light, sweet snacks were prepared, and one or two baskets of generous buns. The steamed pastries, crisp as a blessing and honey-fried, were marvellous beyond measure; fried sweets drenched with sugar-syrup were truly beautiful. There were a few bottles of fragrant glutinous wine, and once poured out it surpassed nectar; several rounds of Yangxian Immortal tea were presented, and when carried in hand, its fragrance outshone osmanthus bloom. Every single item was in place, every kind surprising. A side pavilion rang with music for songs and dance, with wind and strings for lively play, and staged performances were presented. The master and his disciples, together with the king and his sons, all delighted through the day.

It was already late, and none noticed that night had fallen before the wine feast was dismissed. Then he ordered, at once, that bedding and curtains be laid in the Baosha Pavilion and invited the Master to rest there. By dawn he would burn incense with all sincerity, then bow again and beg to be taught the martial arts. All obeyed; they prepared scented bathwater and invited the Master to bathe, while the rest withdrew to bed. At this moment:

The wild birds settle in high nests, and all grows still; the poet takes leave of his couch and stops his chanting. Milky Way light shines, and heaven grows clearer and brighter. The pounding stones in the side court ring ding-dong. Across the distant passes, empty hills awaken homesickness. The cold crickets cry aloud, knowing men’s hearts, and their rustling at the bed’s head tears apart the dream-thought. One night’s scene was written in this way. At dawn the old king and his sons came again to visit. Yesterday, on their first meeting, they had offered him kingly civility; today they offered him the rite of receiving a Master. The three young princes knelt before Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing and asked, 'Respected Master, could we bring out your weapons and let the disciples see them?' At once Zhu Bajie, delighted, took out his spiked weapon and tossed it to the ground. Sha Wujing set down his precious staff and leaned it against the wall. The second and third princes sprang forward to seize them; like dragonflies shaking a stone pillar, each strained and strained and was left red-faced and hot, unable to move even a hair’s breadth. Seeing this, the eldest said, 'Brothers, do not waste yourselves. The Master’s weapons are all divine arms—who can know how heavy they are?' Zhu Bajie laughed, 'My spiked weapon is not much heavier. As for the shaft and all, it is five thousand forty-eight jin.' The third prince asked Sha Wujing, 'How heavy is the Master’s staff?' Sha Wujing smiled, 'It is also five thousand forty-eight jin.' The eldest asked to see Sun Wukong’s Golden-Hooped Staff. Sun Wukong took a pin from his ear, let it flutter into the wind, and at once it became bowl-wide and stood straight upright before him. All the father and sons of the king were startled; every official’s heart trembled. The three young princes knelt in reverence, saying, 'Pig Master Zhu and Monk Sha keep their weapons hidden under their robes at all times; we can take them out at once. Why does Master Sun draw his from his ear and, facing the wind, make it grow instantly?' Sun Wukong laughed, 'You do not know this staff; such a thing does not exist casually in the mortal world. This is: At the first fog of Great Vastness, bronze-iron was cast and tempered, and the divine craftsman of Great Yu set it forth. Lakes, seas, and rivers, shallow and deep, were all measured by it in turn. When mountains were moved and waters levelled in the age of peace, it drifted to the eastern seas at Dongyang, guarding the sea pass. Through age upon age, it glows with auspicious light, able to shrink, able to lengthen, ever clear and bright. It is destined that Old Monkey will take it in time, with unlimited transformations, obeying but one formula. It can be vast beyond the universe, and yet small as the joint of a needle. Its name is Ruyi, called the Golden-Hooped Staff, and in heaven and on earth it is praised as peerless. Its weight is reckoned one thousand three hundred and fifty jin, and whether thick or thin it can appear and vanish. It has helped me shake the heavenly palace, and with me it has stormed the earthly gates. It passes everywhere to subdue tigers and conquer dragons, and in purging demons and casting out monsters it is utterly penetrating. Lift your head and point once, and the sun itself seems to dim; heaven and earth, ghosts and gods all grow timid. This is the divine relic of Primordial Chaos down to this day, and is no iron of ordinary people.' Hearing this, each prince knelt in repeated, unending bows. The three stepped forward and bowed heavily, and with single-minded hearts sought instruction. Sun Wukong asked, 'You three are not sure which martial arts to learn, are you?' The princes answered, 'Let the one used to cudgels learn cudgel-play, the one used to the spade-lever learn that, and the one who loves staffs learn staff-play.' Sun Wukong laughed, 'To teach them is easy enough, but you lack the strength to wield our weapons; you may learn imperfectly, like trying to draw a tiger and ending with a dog. As the ancients say: The teacher’s fault is lax teaching, and the student’s fault is poor learning. Since you are sincerely willing, burn incense, bow to Heaven and Earth first, and I shall first transmit some divine power; then I will teach the arts.'

The three princes were overjoyed at these words. They personally raised the incense table, washed their hands, burned incense, and bowed toward Heaven. When that was done, they asked the Master to transmit the Dharma. Sun Wukong knelt down and bowed to Tripitaka, saying, 'Tell the honored Teacher to pardon this disciple’s fault. Since the day on Two Realms Mountain when Great Teacher rescued this disciple and with great grace saved me; I took up the monk’s precepts and have come westward all along. I have not repaid my Teacher in full, yet I have crossed waters and climbed mountains, exhausting myself. Now, in the land of the Buddha, it is my fortune to have met the three worthy sons of King Ren, and they come to bow to us, wishing to learn martial arts. Since they are disciples of mine, they are the Teacher’s disciple-children through me. I respectfully report this to my Teacher, hoping he will allow instruction.' Tripitaka was greatly delighted. Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, seeing Sun Wukong bow, turned at once and knelt before Tripitaka: 'Master, we are simple and dull, with blunt tongues and slow faces; we do not know how to speak well. Please sit high in your Dharma seat and let each of us take one disciple to play and practice, so that our journey to the West may have something to remember.' Tripitaka gladly approved.

Sun Wukong then took the three princes to the Quiet Chamber behind the Baosha Pavilion and drew a Gangdou formation. He ordered all three to lie prone within it, eyes closed and spirit settled. There, in silence, he chanted true words and recited spells, blowing immortal qi into the depths of their hearts and drawing their original spirits back to their true dwelling. He transmitted the oral formula and conferred upon each of them strength in the thousandfold measure; he added firepower in perfect timing, and it was like a transfiguration of body and bone. After he made the cycle of Zi and Wu pass through them, the three princes finally awakened. At once they all got up together, wiped their faces, and stood braced with spirit, each one full-bodied and sinewy. The eldest grasped the Golden-Hooped Staff, the second raised the Nine-Tusked Spiked Weapon, and the third lifted the Demon-Subduing Staff.

The king rejoiced beyond measure. He hosted a plain banquet again and offered thanks to the four in the monastic party. Then, before the feast, he taught each according to ability: those who learned staffs showed staff forms, those who learned the spiked weapon showed that art, and those who learned the staff likewise practiced it. Though they could turn a few times and throw out a few techniques, they were still mere mortals and lacked true force: one stretch and they were already panting, unable to endure long. The reason was that their weapons all could transform; their advance and retreat, their attacks and counterstrikes, could all lengthen or shorten at will and carried a natural subtlety. These men were still ordinary people—how could they in a moment arrive at it? The banquet ended that day.

The next day the three princes returned to give thanks and said, 'By your divine grace we have been granted strength. Even though we can wield the Master’s weapons, changing them in form is still difficult. We wish to order craftsmen to forge copies in the same pattern but lighter in weight, if the Master permits. Is that acceptable?' Zhu Bajie said, 'Well said—well said indeed, it is reasonable. Your weapons, one, you cannot wield as we do; two, we must protect the Dharma and subdue demons, and in truth we should make separate ones.' The princes immediately summoned the blacksmiths, bought ten thousand jin of steel, and in the front court of the king’s residence set up a foundry and raised crucibles for casting. On the first day they refined the steel thoroughly. On the next, they asked the three disciples of Sun Wukong to bring out the Golden-Hooped Staff, the Nine-Tusked Spiked Weapon, and the Demon-Subduing Staff, and placed them among the casting sheds as models. From then on they labored day and night without rest.

Ah! These weapons were treasures they always carried upon their persons and could not be apart from even for an instant, each hidden on the body and wrapped in its own light to guard the form. Now that they lay in the foundry court for several days, ten thousand rays of rosy radiance rose to heaven and auspicious vapor of a thousand kinds spread across the earth. That night a demon spirit dwelling about seventy li from the city—his mountain called Leopard-Head Mountain, his cave called Tiger-Mouthed Cave—while sitting in the dark saw, in a flash, the rosy light and auspicious vapor. He rode on clouds to look, and when he saw where the brilliance arose, it was inside the king’s manor. He lowered his cloud platform and came near to inspect. It was these three kinds of weapons shining with light. The demon, both joyful and lustful, said, 'Fine treasures, fine treasures. For whom are these? How can they be set here now? They are under my destined affinity. Take them, take them!' His desire rose, he set himself in terrifying display, and gathered all three weapons in one sweep, then went straight back to his cave. As the line says:

One must not leave the Way even for an instant; if one does, it is not the Way. The divine weapons have fallen into emptiness; all that toiling cultivation is wasted.

Still unknown is how those weapons were ultimately recovered. Listen, and hear the resolution in the next chapter.