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 it is said that Tripitaka, anxious and sorrowful, followed the king into the rear palace. He only heard drums and music roaring to the sky, and then caught a strange fragrance in his nose. He kept his head lowered, not daring to look up. Sun Wukong, concealed, rejoiced inwardly, and from the top of his Bilu hat drew forth divine light, opening his blazing-golden eyes to watch. Then he saw those two ranks of painted maidens, lined up like an otherworldly pavilion of celestial ladies, even lovelier than a brocade canopy stirred by spring wind. Indeed it was:

Delicate and graceful, slender and yielding, jade-like in complexion and icy in skin. Pair after pair of charming ones shamed the women of Chu, and pair after pair could rival the beauty of Xishi. Her cloud-like hair knot rose high, sending out painted phoenixes; tiny butterfly brows faintly showed, like distant hills low on the horizon. The flute and shawm played in refined tones, the xiao and drums blew often. The modes gong, shang, jiao, zhi, yu rose and fell in equal harmony. Clear songs and wondrous dances were always lovable; in brocade inlaid courts, flower-garlands of every color brought joy. Seeing that his master never stirred from distraction, Sun Wukong silently chewed in approval: "Good monk, good monk. He dwells amid brocade and beauty, yet his heart is without desire; though his step falls on jade and jade dust, his mind is not bewitched."

After a little while, the empress and court consorts crowded about and brought the princess out of Ziqe Palace to greet everyone together, all crying, "Long live the king for ten thousand years, ten thousand times over!" The elder monk trembled in panic, not knowing what to do. Sun Wukong had already known it; seeing a faint demon aura just showing atop the princess’s head, though not wholly ferocious, he quickly crept near her ear and called out, "Master, the princess is false." The elder said, "She is false, but how can we let him show his true form?" Sun Wukong said, "Use my Dharma body and seize him at once." The elder said, "No, no, no. It may frighten the sovereign. Let Your Majesties, the king and queen, disperse first, then use your power."

The Great Sage was naturally hasty and could not bear it. He roared once, showed his true form, rushed forward, seized the princess, and shouted: "Wretched beast! You make falsehood look true here, and only indulge in such pleasures—is that not enough? And still you are not satisfied. You would even deceive my master, break his true yang, and satisfy your lust." The king stood stunned and helpless; the empresses and consorts scrambled in confusion, tripped and fell, and the palace attendants and maidens all darted this way and that to save their lives. It was as if:

Spring wind ripples, autumn air sighs thin. Spring wind ripples through the gardens, a thousand flowers sway; autumn air comes into the royal park, ten thousand leaves flutter. It snaps peonies beneath the balustrade, and blows the peony blossoms askew along the beds. Wild lotus by the pond bank shakes in disarray; the terrace base is piled high with chrysanthemum hearts. Begonia bends without strength and falls into dust; roses, fragrant, half doze in wild grounds. Spring wind breaks the split stems of cane and lotus; winter snow has bent the young plum buds. Pomegranate petals scatter in disorder through the inner court, east and west; willow branches by the bank droop askew, from south to north across the palace. All in one night of wind and rain the fine flowers went wild; countless broken reds lay spread upon the ground like brocade. Tripitaka, suddenly flustered, lost his composure, trembling, and clutched the king, only crying, "Your Majesty, do not fear, do not fear. This is my unruly disciple using divine power to distinguish true from false."

The demoness found the matter unfavorable, tore loose, stripped off her clothes, shook out her hair, and dropped her hairpins and ornaments. She ran to the temple of the field-spirit in the imperial garden, took out a short club with a pestle-like mouth, spun sharply, and came back to randomly strike Sun Wukong. Sun Wukong followed at once, and with the iron staff met her blow-to-blow. The two shouted and screamed and began combat in the garden. Then they later displayed great powers, each riding cloud-mist and clashing in the air. This bout:

The Golden-Hooped Staff is renowned; none knows the short cudgel with a mortar-mouth. One has come to this land to fetch the True Scripture; the other came to live by strange flowers, seized by love of their beauty. That demon, long knowing the holy monk of Tang, sought to pair with the primal essence and vital fluid. Last year he took the true princess, took on a human body, and was dearly cherished. Now, meeting the Great Sage and recognizing the demon aura, life was saved by separating false from true. The short cudgel rushes in violence with a top-hurling strike; the iron staff answers with power, smashing straight at the face. Shouting and shouting, the two held on, and cloud and mist filled the sky, covering the white daylight. The two then fought in midair, wagering life for life. The whole city panicked; citizens and officials alike were terrified. The elder held the king and said only, "Do not be afraid. Please ask the empress and everyone else not to fear. Your princess is a false one taking true form. When my disciple catches him, then you will know good from bad." The braver consorts took those garments, hairpins, and ornaments to the empress and said, "These are what the princess wore. She has cast them off and now, with only her spirit form, is fighting the monk in the air with him. She must be a demonic being." At that moment the king, empress, and the rest regained themselves and looked up into the sky and so it need not be told further.

The record says the demon and the Great Sage fought for half a day and could not determine a winner. Sun Wukong threw up his staff and shouted, "Transform!" then used one to become ten, ten to become one hundred, one hundred to become one thousand; in half a day he seemed like snakes and pythons churning, striking wildly at the demon. The demon, flustered, changed into a pure breeze and fled up into the blue sky. Sun Wukong recited a spell, collapsed the iron staff into one rod, and drove on with a straight line of divine light. Nearing the Western Heaven Gate, he saw flashing banners and cried out sharply, "Those at the Heaven Gate, block it and stop the demon—do not let him pass!" Truly on the gate were the Protector-of-the-Nation Heavenly King and four great marshals, Pang, Liu, Gou, and Bi, each displaying weapons to hinder him. The demon could not go forward; hurriedly he turned back, used the cudgel, and again grappled with Sun Wukong.

That Great Sage, lashing out with his iron staff and watching closely, saw that the short cudgel had one end thick and one end slender, like the pounding head of a mortar. He barked once and shouted, "Wicked beast! What kind of weapon do you carry to dare oppose Old Sun? Hurry and submit, or this one blow will break your Heavenly spirit." The demon said through clenched teeth, "You do not know this weapon of mine. Listen:

Its sacred root is a chunk of mutton-fat jade, shaped by carving over uncounted years. When the chaos opened, I had already obtained it; in Hongmeng it was decreed I should come first. It is no ordinary matter of the mortal world; its essence is born of heaven above. A single body of golden light, with four forms, fivefold auspicious qi, and three circles joined. For long I dwelt within the moon palace, dwelling near the osmanthus hall. Loving flowers upon the human world, therefore I came to Tianzhu, feigning a beautiful maid. There was no other intent in rejoicing with you; I came for the destined union with Tripitaka. How can you, with deceitful heart, shatter good fortune, driving me into this battle in savage rage? This weapon has a vast name before your Golden-Hooped Staff. In the Bright and Cold Palace I was a medicine-pounding mace, one strike from it sends life back to the spring source." Sun Wukong heard and gave a cold laugh, "You shambling monster! Since you once lived in the lunar palace, you still do not know Old Sun’s methods, yet you dare to quibble here? Show your true form and submit at once, and I will spare your life." The demon replied, "I recognize you as the Bima Wen who threw heaven and earth into uproar five hundred years ago, so in truth I should let you pass. Yet this is no matter of making love. It is as bitter as a grudge of murdering parents, and my reasoning cannot accept it; I must fight you, Bima Wen who deceives heaven itself." That made the Great Sage furious at the words "Bima Wen." Hitting his mark, he raised the iron staff and struck full in front; the demon swung his mace to meet him. At the gate of the West they fought in fury. This scene: The Golden-Hooped Staff and the medicine-pounding mace are truly worthy of comparison as two celestial weapons. One came down to seal this world in wedding marriage, the other came to protect Tripitaka until here. Truly it is because the king’s heart was not upright and his love of flowers delighted the demon. So now hatred and suffering contend, and both sides have stirred from stubborn intent. Clash after clash, jostling and striking, they traded taunts and matching words. A hero’s medicine-cudgel is rare in the world, yet the divine might of the iron staff is even finer. Golden light flooded bright, shivering before Heaven’s gate, and colored mists gleamed, reaching all the way down to the earth. They fought ten-some times back and forth; the demon grew weak and could not resist. The demon and the Great Sage fought ten or more rounds more. Seeing the density of the Great Sage’s staff movements, he judged he could not win. He feigned dropping one cudgel, flashed his body, and in ten thousand streams of golden light fled straight southward in defeat. The Great Sage pursued right after. Suddenly they came before a great mountain; the demon, by the guidance of the gold light, slipped into a cave and vanished in silence. Fearing that he might slip back to his country and secretly harm Tripitaka, he judged the scale of this mountain, turned around with cloud-head and headed straight back into the kingdom.

Now it was already the hour of Shen. The king was clutching Tripitaka, trembling and frightened, only crying, “Holy Monk, save me.” The empress and the consorts were also in such distress. At that moment the Great Sage came down from a cloud and called, “Master, I have come.” Tripitaka said, “Wukong, stop; do not startle the holy body. I ask you: what is really the matter with the false princess?” The Great Sage, standing outside the Jade-Sparrow Palace, placed his crossed hands to his chest and said, “The false princess is a demonic spirit. At first I fought with her for half a day. She could not defeat me, so she changed into pure wind and ran for Heaven’s Gate. I shouted and the heavenly gods blocked her way. She resumed her form and fought me for ten or so rounds, then changed her body into golden light and fled back to a mountain in the far south. I hurried there and chased her, but could not find her. Fearing she might come here to harm you, I hurried back only to check on you.” The king, still gripping Tripitaka, said, “If the false princess is truly a demon, where is my real princess?” The Great Sage answered, “Once I seize the false princess, your real princess will naturally come back.” Upon hearing this, the empresses and concubines released their fear, and one after another they stepped forward and knelt, pleading, “May the holy monk save back my real princess and make clear truth from falsehood; we will then give our deepest thanks.” The Sage said, “This is not a place for our talk. Please, Your Majesty, and my Master, leave the palace and go up to the hall. Empress and ladies, return each to the inner quarters. Summon my fellow disciples Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing to protect the Master. I will then go to subdue the demon. In this way, the inner and outer courts are separated, and I will not be hung around. I will make the case plain and show my full effort.” The king followed his words and thanked him deeply. Then he and Tripitaka went hand in hand out of the palace and straight to the hall. The concubines all returned to their quarters. On one side officials prepared plain vegetarian fare, and on the other side they summoned Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing. Before long the two arrived. The Great Sage reported the prior events and told them to protect the Master with utmost care. He then jumped onto a cloud and flew into the sky. Many officials before the hall each raised their eyes to the heavens and bowed in reverence; this need not be further recorded.

Sun Wukong went straight to the mountain in the true south to search. The demon, defeated in battle, had come to this mountain, slipped into a burrow, blocked the entrance with stones, and hidden in a timid, furtive way without emerging. Wukong searched for a while and saw no movement; he was very anxious. He twisted the mantra, recited the true incantation, and called forth the mountain land and mountain god for questioning. After a short time the two spirits arrived and knelt, saying, “We do not know, we do not know. We know only from far off. Please forgive our offense.” The Sage said, “I will not strike you now. I ask: what is the name of this mountain? How many demons dwell here? Speak truthfully, and I will spare you your punishment.” The two replied, “Great Sage, this mountain is called Maoying Mountain. In it there are only three rabbit holes; from ancient times to now there have been no real demons. It is a blessed land of Five Rings. If Great Sage seeks the demon, he must be elsewhere on the road to the West.” The Great Sage said, “When I reached the Western Heaven, King of Tianzhu had a princess taken by a demon and cast out into a wild waste. That one took on the form of a princess, mocked the king with play, built a multicolored pavilion, and tossed embroidered balls to lure a marriage prince. I brought Tripitaka to the pavilion below, and the demon set a trap to strike at Tripitaka, intending to take him as a husband and draw out his yuan-yang. I saw through it and manifested in the palace to seize her. She then took off the human garments and ornaments, made herself a short staff and called it a mortar-beating pestle, and fought with me for half a day. She turned into pure wind and fled. I chased her to the Western Gate and fought there for more than ten rounds. Thinking she could not win, she changed into golden radiance and escaped here. How is it that she is no longer found?”

The two spirits, hearing this, immediately led Wukong to search among the three caves. Beginning at the edge of the cave by the foothill they looked there and saw several grass rabbits, which were frightened and ran off. After searching to the cave atop the summit, they saw two great stones blocking the cave mouth. The Earth Deity said, “This place must surely be the demon; force your way in at once.” Wukong used the Golden-Hooped Staff to pry the stones apart. The demon was indeed hiding inside. At one roar it sprang out, raised the pestle and struck; Wukong lifted his staff to meet it. Even the mountain spirit was frightened and stepped back, while the land deity hurried away. The demon muttered and snarled at the mountain spirit and land god, saying, “Who told you to lead him to come here and search?” Leaning hard with shoulder and arm against the Golden-Hooped Staff, he fought and withdrew, then ran into the air.

At that critical moment evening had also come. The Great Sage, fiercer still, tightened his grip, wishing he could kill in one stroke. Suddenly he heard someone call through the cobalt void of the nine heavens: “Great Sage, do not move—do not move. Show mercy beneath your staff.” He looked back and saw it was the Lord of Taiyin Star, followed by Chang’e, descending in rainbow clouds before him. Startled, Wukong put down the Golden-Hooped Staff and bowed deeply, saying, “Great Lady Taiyin, where are you going? I have failed to avoid my offense.” Taiyin said, “The demon you are contending with is the jade rabbit that grinds the Immortal Frost Herb in Guanghan Palace. He secretly broke open the Golden-Locked Jade Gate and left the palace; he has been wandering for a year now. I judge that he now faces a calamity of life and death, so I have come to save him. Please, Great Sage, for my sake, spare him.” Wukong nodded repeatedly, saying, “Forgive me, forgive me. I did not know that he could use the medicine-pestle; indeed he is a jade rabbit. Great Lady Yin did not know he had kidnapped the princess of Tianzhu and then pretended to be the true one in order to violate the Master’s yuan-yang. Such intent and such sin—how can it be pardoned so lightly?” Taiyin replied, “You also do not know that the king’s princess is no ordinary mortal, but Suo'e, the pure maid of the Moon Palace. Eighteen years ago he struck that jade rabbit with his palm, and because of it the rabbit resolved to descend to the mortal world. A beam of spirit went down and took form in the womb of this king’s principal queen, and was born then. This jade rabbit, holding on to that single palm strike as a grudge, secretly left the palace last year and cast Suo’e into the wilderness. But he still had no right to seek Tripitaka as husband; that crime is truly inexcusable. Happily you were alert and uncovered true and false, and you did not harm your Master. I beg you, for my sake, show mercy and let me take him away.” Wukong said with a smile, “Since these are the causes and retributions, Wukong does not dare to oppose you. But if you take the jade rabbit now, I fear the king may not believe. Kindly, at my request, with your attendant immortals, bring this jade rabbit over there and clearly prove it before the king: first, show that Wukong’s method has worked; second, explain the cause of Suo’e’s descent from the Moon. Then the king can recover the body of Princess Suo'e and see that recompense is made manifest.”

Taiyin Lord believed his words and, pointing at the demon, shouted, “That fiend, return to proper form and come here at once.” The jade rabbit rolled over and revealed its true form. Truly it was:

Lips are narrow, teeth are sharp, ears long, whiskers sparse. A compact body, one coat of fur like jade, with feet that, when extended, leap as if over a thousand peaks. A straight nose with drooping, soft tip; the muzzle is creamy and white, filling the face like powdered frost. Two red eyes gleam, as if mocking points of rouge on fresh snow. Lying on the ground, it was a white, fluffy heap of pure cotton. Spreading its waist, a pale bell rang with a framework of silver threads. It has often gone out to breathe the leftover clear dawn dews of the Jade heavens, A wondrous jade mortar-pestle for pounding the elixir of long life. The Great Sage, seeing this, was filled with joy and stepped on cloud-light, leading the way forward. Taiyin Lord, with all the Chang'e fairies, took the jade rabbit and turned directly toward the borders of Tianzhu. At this moment it was dusk, and the moon had just risen. Upon reaching the edge of the city, he heard drums beaten from the Qiao tower. The king and Tripitaka were still in the hall; Zhu Bajie, Sha Wujing, and many officials were at the steps, just concluding court, when suddenly a broad sheet of colored cloud in the true south shone brighter than day. As all looked up, they heard Sun Wukong cry out in a stern voice, “Heavenly King of Tianzhu, command your empress, your consorts, your palace maids, and the colorful maidens to come and witness the sky. Under this treasure banner is the Taiyin Star Lord of the Moon Palace, and on either side are the celestial maidens Chang'e from the moon. This jade rabbit is the false princess of your house, showing his true appearance now.” The king hastily summoned his empress, concubines, palace ladies, and dancing maidens, all to make offerings and offer worship toward heaven; he, with Tripitaka and the officials, also looked upward and bowed in thanks. In every household throughout the city none failed to set out incense tables and kneel in Buddhist remembrance. At just this moment Zhu Bajie became lustful; unable to restrain himself, he leapt into the air and seized the Celestial Lady in rainbow robes, saying, “Sister, we are old acquaintances. Let us go off and play.” Wukong came forward, grabbed Zhu Bajie, and slapped him twice, shouting, “You vulgar, vulgar fool! In what place is this, that you dare let lustful intent rise?” Zhu Bajie said, “I only meant to pass time and banish loneliness by playing.” Taiyin Lord ordered the celestial banner turned about, and with all the Chang'e maidens took back the jade rabbit and went straight to the Moon Palace. The Great Sage pulled Zhu Bajie down to the dust.

The king in the hall had offered thanks to the Great Sage and then asked about the prior cause: “By your great spiritual power, holy monk, you have captured the false princess. But where now is my true princess?” Sun Wukong replied: “That true princess of yours was not of ordinary flesh. She was in fact Suo’e, a fairy of the Moon Palace. Eighteen years ago, he struck the Jade Rabbit child with one slap; moved by resentment, the Rabbit descended to this world and entered your chief queen’s womb to be born. Because the Jade Rabbit harbored an old grudge, in former years it quietly opened the Jade Barrier and the Golden Lock and came down, casting Suo’e into a wild waste, then changing form to deceive you. This chain of cause and effect was told to me by Lord Taiyin himself. Since today the false one has been removed, tomorrow please take Your Majesty’s carriage and go in search of the true one.” Upon hearing this, the king, ashamed and distraught, could not hold back tears: “Son, I came to the throne as a child. I have not even gone beyond the city gate in all my life—how can I possibly be told where to find her?” Sun Wukong laughed: “No need for anxiety. Your princess now feigns a wind-affliction at Jigubujin Temple. For now, let everyone disperse, and at dawn I will return to you a true princess.” The officials knelt and saluted together: “May Your Majesty settle your heart. These divine monks ride cloud and move through fog; surely they know the causes of past and future. Tomorrow, if Your Majesty asks them to go with you, all will become clear.” The king followed their words and invited the court to the Hall of Lingchun to hold a light meal and rest. It was already near the second watch of the night. Just then, it was:

Copper-urn time-dropper, moonlight all clear; gilt bells clink, and the wind carries their sound. The cuckoo cries on: spring is half gone; fallen petals, with no road to return, come to the hour of the third watch. In the deserted imperial garden the swing-shadow is lonely; in the empty blue firmament the Silver River drifts in a line. In three markets and six streets no guest is running; all night the stars and constellations shine with a clear light. That night all went to rest; nothing further to record.

That night, the king’s demonic influence departed, and his spirit revived at once. By the third point of the fifth watch, he once again came out to hold court. Court dismissed, he ordered Tripitaka and the four disciples to discuss finding the princess. The Master came and presented homage. The Great Sage and three others offered greetings together. The king bowed and said: “What you told us yesterday about the daughter, I beg the holy monk to seek her out and save her.” Tripitaka said: “The humble monk came from the east the day before and reached the city at dusk. I came upon a temple called Jigubujin Temple and sought to stay the night; the temple monks received me. After the evening meal, I strolled under the moon and came to the old Jigubujin garden, looked upon the foundations, and suddenly heard weeping. I asked into what cause. In this temple there is an old monk, more than a hundred years old. He sent away his attendants, then explained everything clearly: ‘The crying voice came from the deep spring of former years. That old monk, while observing his life-discipline, suddenly saw a gust of wind. He saw a woman thrown to the ground. He asked her who she was, and she said, “I am the princess of Tianzhu. One moonlit night, I was out playing with flowers and moonlight and was blown here by the wind.” The old monk, versed in propriety, locked the princess in a quiet room. Fearing to pollute this temple with his unruly priests, he only said she was a demon spirit and kept her confined. The princess understood this and by day spoke nonsense, asking for tea and food; at deep night, when no one was near, she would weep for her parents. That old monk had also come to the state to ask several times, saw that the princess was safe in the palace, and so did not dare to report it. Seeing that my disciple had some powers, that old monk repeatedly begged me to come here and investigate. But in fact it was the Moon Rabbit from the lunar palace, using a counterfeit form, taking the princess’s shape. He even had designs to break my Yuanyang. Fortunately, my disciple displayed might and divine law, distinguishing real from false. He has now been taken back by Lord Taiyin. The virtuous princess is presently at Jigubujin Temple, feigning wind affliction.’”

When the king heard this full account, he wept aloud. It startled the three palaces and six inner courts, and all came to ask about the earlier cause, none without tears. After a while the king asked: “How far is Jigubujin Temple from the city?” Tripitaka said: “Only sixty li.” The king at once issued orders: “Have the eastern and western palace households guard the hall and keep the court safe with the Grand Minister and the guards. I myself, with the principal Empress, will go with many officials and the four holy monks to fetch the princess from the temple.” At once the imperial departure was arranged, and the party left the court.

You see, the Great Sage sprang up into the air, twisted his waist once, and arrived at the temple first. The monks hurried and knelt in greeting: “My lord, when you left just now you all came on foot. How is it you come down from the heavens today?” Sun Wukong laughed: “Where is your abbot? Quickly summon him. Set up a fragrant altar to receive the carriage. The King of Tianzhu, the Empress, many officials, and my Master are all here.” The monks did not understand his meaning, so they asked the old monk to come out. Seeing the Great Sage, the old monk prostrated fully and asked: “My lord, what of the princess?” Sun Wukong described again how he had tossed the false princess like an embroidered ball, intended to pair her with Tripitaka, and had chased and captured the trickster, telling also how Lord Taiyin had taken back the Jade Rabbit. The old monk knelt again and thanked him. Sun Wukong helped him up: “No need to bow. No need to bow. Prepare the reception at once.” The monks then understood that the one locked in the back chamber was a woman; one and all, astonished and overjoyed, set out incense tables outside the gate, put on robes, and set the bells and drums ringing while waiting.

Not long after, the imperial carriage arrived early. It truly was:

Rich auspicious mists filled the sky with fragrance; a wild hill was suddenly graced with good omens. For a thousand ages a rainbow-like stream ran through the clear river-sea; lightning coiled through Eternal Spring, like Yu and Tang contending. Plant and tree, touched by grace, gained richer hue; wildflowers, once dried, found surplus fragrance. From ancient times a hermit left relics here—today we rejoice that the Bright Monarch descends upon the Treasure Hall. The king arrived before the mountain gate and saw the monks all lined in orderly rows, kneeling and receiving him; he also saw Sun Wukong standing in the center. The king asked, “How did this holy monk arrive here first?” Sun Wukong laughed: “Old Sun merely twisted his waist a little and came. Why did all of you take this long a way?” Then Tripitaka and the others came. The Master guided the carriage to the side of the back chamber, where the princess was still pretending to be wind-crazed and speaking nonsense. The old monk knelt and pointed: “The lady in this room is the princess blown in by wind in past years.” The king ordered the door opened. At once the iron chain locks were undone and the door opened. The king and empress saw the princess, recognized her face, and set aside all disgust. They rushed forward and embraced her: “My child, my child who has suffered! What torments have you endured, and what suffering have you borne here?” It was a reunion of parents and daughter unlike any other, and the three wept with heads together. After they had wept a while and told and listened to what had passed, the king ordered scented bathwater, had the princess bathe and change clothes, and had her mount the sedan back to the capital.

Sun Wukong then bowed and said to the king: “There is one more matter, Master would humbly submit.” The king returned the courtesy: “If the holy monk has matters to command, I will immediately follow.” Sun Wukong said: “This mountain is called Baijiao Mountain. Lately it is said that a centipede spirit has taken form there, wounding people at night and causing great inconvenience to travelers. I considered that only roosters can subdue a centipede. Select a thousand fine, vigorous roosters and release them into the mountain to clear away that poison vermin. Then rename this mountain, issue an imperial edict and grant it a charter, as compensation for the merit of this monk’s nourishing your princess.” The king rejoiced and promised to do so. He then sent officials into the city for chickens; he also changed the mountain name to Baohua Mountain. He further ordered the Ministry of Public Works to arrange materials for extensive rebuilding, and bestowed the title: “Imperially Established Baohua Mountain Jigubujin Temple.” The old monk was appointed as the “State-Repaying Monastic Officer,” hereditary in perpetuity, and granted a stipend of thirty-six piculs. The monastic community thanked the royal favor and saw the procession back to court.

The princess returned to the palace and paid visits to everyone. A feast was arranged, and all celebrated to ease her sorrow and rejoice. The queen-mothers and son and daughterly ranks were gathered together once more in harmony. King and ministers rejoiced as well; they dined through the night—nothing further to set down.

The next morning, the king ordered an edict: summon artists to portray the happy likenesses of Tripitaka and the four disciples in pigment, and set them on worship in the Hua Yi Tower. He also had the princess remade and made neat, and asked her to come forth and thank Tripitaka and his three disciples for rescuing her from suffering. After thanks were made, Tripitaka took leave of the king and set off westward. The king would not allow him to depart. He arranged grand banquets, continuing for five or six consecutive days, truly entertaining them with generosity and opening up his whole capacity for hospitality.

Seeing their devotion to the Buddha in daily worship and their wish to keep them, the king could not bear to let them go. He took two hundred silver ingots and one tray of jewels and relics as tribute. Not one of the master and disciples accepted them. He ordered the sedan set, invited the Teacher Father to mount it, and sent officials far on the road in escort. The queen-mothers, ministers, and subjects all bowed in thanks without end. When at last they reached the road, they again saw many monks kneeling in farewell, and none could bear to part. Seeing that the send-off party would not return, Sun Wukong, unable to bear it, pinched the mantra-knot, blew out a clouded immortal breath toward the southeast ground, and a sudden dark wind blinded all who were seeing them off. Only then could he get away.

Bathed in purifying grace, he returned to his true nature; leaving the Golden Sea, he awakened to the true emptiness.

As yet it is not known what lies ahead. For now, listen for the resolution in the next chapter.