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.

No need to record, yet, how Tripitaka and the others, beneath the broken house at Huaguang, endured the night rain in order to keep themselves alive. In Tongtai Prefecture, within Diling County, there was a band of ruffians. Because they kept prostitutes, drank, and gambled until their household goods were spent, they had no way to get by, so they gathered a dozen or more and turned to robbing. They selected which house in town was the first rich house, which was the second, and planned to break in and seize gold and silver for spending. One of them said, “No need to spy and no need to calculate. Only today the household of Kou Yuanwai, the out-of-towners’ donor of the Tang monks, is very wealthy. Let us use this rainy night. No one in the streets will be on guard, and even the fire-watchmen will not patrol. We can strike now, rob some capital, and then go off to gamble and consort with courtesans. Would that not be excellent?” The thieves rejoiced and of one accord prepared, all carrying short knives, caltrops, cudgels, cudgel-sticks, hemp rope, and torches. They came through the rain, forced open the Kou gate, shouted, and burst in.

The people in that house, young or old, man or woman, all hid as neatly as they could: mothers under beds, old men behind doors; Kou Liang, Kou Dong, and several close kin, all trembling, scattered in all directions to save their lives. The thieves, knives in hand and torches alight, smashed open trunks and chests and searched out, without restraint, silver and gold treasures, ornaments and clothing, dishes and vessels, and all household goods. When that wealthy householder could not bear to let go, he fought hard with his life and came to the doorway, pleading before the armed men: “Your Honours, lords, take what is enough for you, only leave a few garments so this old man may have proper farewells.” They allowed him no answer, rushed up, kicked him on the side and sent him sprawling in the dust. Alas, his three souls drifted faintly to the Hall of Yin, and his seven souls drifted away from the world of men!

Once the thieves had taken all they could, they left the Kou house, made a makeshift rope ladder at the wall’s foot, strung themselves over the city wall one by one, and disappeared westward through the rain before dawn. The Kou servants saw the bandits gone, then came out only at last. When they looked around, the old householder lay dead in the dust. They cried out, “Heaven! the master is dead!” All bent over the body and wept, in grief and loud lamentation.

By the fourth watch the mother, harboring resentment toward Tripitaka’s party for having deprived her of a chance to provide offerings—since she had sent him forth with flowers and fanfare and thereby brought forth this calamity—nourished jealousy and malice, and determined to trap the four holy men. She propped up Kou Liang and said, “Son, do not cry. Your father today made the monks a full rite, and tomorrow he would have made offerings to monks again. How could he have fasted today for that lot of monks who would take life?”

Her son said, “Mother, how can they be monks?”

The mother said, “The bandits were fierce and bold; they broke into the room to kill. I hid beneath the bed and, trembling, kept my eyes on the lamp and watched clearly. Do you ask who they were? The one who lit the fire was Tripitaka, the one with the knife was Zhu Bajie, the one who carried out the gold and silver was Sha Wujing, and Sun Wukong is the one who killed your father.”

The two sons heard her and admitted it as true: “Since Mother saw so clearly, it must be the truth. These four have stayed in our home for half a month and have come to know every gate, wall, window, and alley; greed is in all hearts. So on this rainy night they have returned to our house; they not only robbed our property but killed our father. How poisonous this matter is! At daybreak we will bring a complaint to the yamen and accuse them by name.”

Kou Dong said, “How shall we write the complaint?” Kou Liang said, “Write it as Mother said.” They wrote:

Tripitaka lit the fire, Zhu Bajie called for killing. Sha Wujing carried off gold and silver, and Sun Wukong killed my father.

The household grew loud with argument all night long and not once did they notice dawn. In one corner they sent for kin and prepared a coffin; in another, Kou Liang and his brother went to the yamen to present the petition. The magistrate of Tongtai Prefecture happened to be the upright court officer Zengtang Daren:

Upright in life, with a nature both worthy and kind. In youth he worked at his studies over the cold snowy desk; in early years he was examined at Jinyuan for office. His heart ever held loyalty and righteousness, and always held mercy in mind. His name is cast into the blue annals to spread a thousand years; Gong and Huang are seen again. His renown shakes the yellow hall and is transmitted for ten thousand ages; Zhuo and Lu are reborn again.

He was already seated and attending to business when he gave orders to read out the complaint tablet. Kou Liang and his brother came in clutching the tablet and knelt, crying out, “Honourable sir, we are the children reporting armed robbery and grievous loss of life.” The magistrate took the petition and, reading this way and that way, asked, “Yesterday someone said your household had completed a full ordination feast, fed and honored the four eminent monks of the Tang dynasty, and sent them off with flowers and drums through the streets. How then could this have happened?”

The brothers prostrated themselves and said, “Honourable sir, my father, Kou Hong, has been hosting monk-feasts for twenty-four years. Because these four monks had come from afar and nearly equaled ten thousand in number, we held the full rite and kept them for half a month. Then they learned all our roads, doors, and windows. At the sending-out, and again that same night, they came back in the dark and rain. They entered the house with torches and staffs, robbed gold and silver and garments and ornaments, and killed Father on the ground. We beg you, do justice for us.”

The magistrate, upon hearing, immediately called up mounted guards, rapid infantry, and stout male laborers from the households, totaling one hundred and fifty, each carrying sharp weapons. They exited through the West Gate and pressed straight on to pursue Tripitaka’s four followers.

Now the teacher and his disciples had, at Huaguang’s ruined hostel, lain in wait through the night rain and only at dawn did they leave, setting out to hasten westward. The hard-hearted thieves who had robbed the Kou household that very night had tied themselves outside the city and, traveling west on the main road past Huaguang Manor, came out about twenty li and hid in a mountain hollow to divide the gold and silver. Before their sharing was finished, they saw Tripitaka’s four companions coming along the same road. The thieves still unrelieved in mind recognized them and said, “Isn’t that the group of monks we saw at the sendoff yesterday?”

The thieves laughed. “Good timing. We are doing this shameless trade of brigandage ourselves. These monks have been coming on the road and have stayed in the Kou house for some time. Who knows how much money they carry? Let us intercept them, seize their travel funds, take the horse too for our share. Would that not satisfy us completely?”

So the thieves took up arms and, with one cry, rushed onto the highway, spreading out in a line. They shouted, “Monks, do not run. Leave road tribute quickly and your lives will be spared. If a single ‘no’ slips from your mouths, one stroke a man—there will not be one left.”

Startled, Tripitaka on horseback was thrown into disorder, while Sha Wujing and Zhu Bajie, afraid, said to Wukong, “What is this? What is this? We endured the long night of rain, and at first light we meet armed men cutting off the road—truly, as people say, misfortune never travels alone.”

Wukong laughed softly and said, “Do not fear, Master. Brothers, do not be anxious. Let old Sun go ask them one word.”

The Great Sage tightened his tiger-skin skirt, shook out his brocade robe, stepped close, crossed his arms over his chest, and said, “What are you doing?”

The brigand roared, “You fool, do you not know how to live? You dare to ask me that. Do you not have eyes beneath your forehead? Do you not know I am a Great Lord? If you want road tribute, give it and pass on, or I shall spare your life. If you utter even a single ‘no,’ not one of you will remain.”

Wukong met it with broad smiles: “So you are truly roadside robbers.”

The brigand, enraged, shouted, “Kill him!”

Wukong feigned dread and said, “Great Lord, Great Lord, I am a village monk, and not given to speech; do not mind my roughness. If you want road money, ask only me, not those three. I am the quartermaster. As for any scriptural money, almsgiving money, or other coins, all of it is in my bundle; all money in and out is handled by me. The one riding the horse is my master, but he only knows to recite sutras. He forgets both wealth and desire, and has not a single coin for this matter. The black-faced one is a youth I recruited on the road; he only knows how to tend horses. The long-faced one is a hired carrier I engaged; he only knows how to shoulder loads. Spare those three and let them go, and I will give you all our travel money, robes, and bowl.”

The thieves all said, “This monk is indeed a straightforward fellow. If so, your life is spared. Have the three cast off their baggage and let them pass.”

Wukong flashed a signal back. Sha Wujing then dropped the baggage load, and with Master Tripitaka holding the bridle of the horse, together with Zhu Bajie they took the western path.

The Wukong bowed his head, opened his pack, struck up a handful of dust from the ground, tossed it upward, and chanted a spell—the spell of fixing the body in place. He shouted, “Stay!” The three dozen thieves froze: one by one they bit their teeth, stared wide-eyed, dropped their hands, and stood upright motionless, unable to speak and unable to stir. Wukong sprang out to the roadside and called, “Master, come back, come back.” Zhu Bajie panicked: “No, no, Brother has given us away. There is no money on him, and no gold or silver in his bundle. It must be that he wants Master to buy a horse. He meant to make us strip him.” Sha Wujing laughed: “Second Brother, don’t speak wildly. Great Brother is capable; he can subdue those poisonous, ferocious demons. How could he fear these hairless rascals? If he called, he has a reason. Hurry back and check.” Hearing this, Tripitaka cheerfully turned his horse and came back to the roadside, calling, “Wukong, why did you call us back?” Wukong said, “See how this thief answers us.” Zhu Bajie moved forward, pushed him, and called out, “Bandit, why don’t you move?” The thief seemed wholly unaware, saying nothing at all. Zhu Bajie said, “He’s gone dumb, that’s for sure.” Wukong laughed: “Old Sun has held them fixed with the immobilizing spell.” Zhu Bajie said, “If their bodies were fixed, their mouths were not—how come they won’t even make a sound?” Wukong said, “Tripitaka, please dismount and sit. As the saying goes, ‘You are right to seize a culprit, never right to release one.’ Brothers, flip them all over and bind them. Have them give a confession and see whether they are rookies or full-fledged bandits.” Sha Wujing said, “There is no rope.” Wukong at once plucked a few of his hairs, breathed out immortal qi, and turned them into thirty ropes. They all moved together, flipped the thieves over, and tied each up, all four limbs bound. Then he chanted the unbinding once more, and that band of thieves slowly came back to life.

Wukong had Tripitaka sit foremost while the three of them stood with weapons ready and shouted, “Bandits! How many of you are there together? How many years have you been in this trade? How much property have you robbed? Have you killed anyone? Were you first-timers, or second-timers, or third-timers?” The thieves spoke: “My lord, spare our lives.” Wukong said, “No cries—tell it all plainly.” They replied, “Master, we are not thieves by long habit; we are sons of good households. Through our own lack of worth we drank, gambled, and squandered ourselves in brothel ways, spending all the property of our fathers and grandfathers. There has been no work, and no money. We learned that the household of Kou the Youwai in Tongtai was very wealthy. Yesterday, we made common cause and at night, in rain-dark darkness, went there to rob it. We took some gold, silver, and clothing; we were dividing the spoils here in this hollow on the north side of the road when your party arrived. Among you we recognized the courier from Kou Yowai’s house, so surely there were valuables on him, and besides we saw heavy baggage and a swift white horse. Greed never satisfied, so we came back to intercept again. Little did we know you had such great supernatural power and law, and could restrain us at once. We beg your mercy: take back the looted goods and spare our lives.”

Upon hearing that the goods were from Kou Yowai’s household, Tripitaka was suddenly startled and hurriedly stood up: “Wukong, Kou Elder is exceedingly kind. How has he drawn down this calamity?” Wukong laughed: “It was because he had such bright canopies, rich banners, and full drums and music, all of which drew people’s eyes. So these ruffians came to strike at his house. Today they were fortunate to meet us and have had these gold, silver, and garments taken from them.” Tripitaka said, “We have troubled him for half a month and received his deep kindness. There is no way to repay him properly. Would it not be better to carry this property back to his household?” Wukong agreed, and at once with Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing went to the hollow in the mountain and fetched the stolen goods, packed them up, and loaded them on the horses. He also told Zhu Bajie to carry one load of gold and silver, while Sha Wujing carried his own gear. Wukong wanted to beat the whole band to pulp with one staff, but feared Tripitaka would object that he was shedding life. So he only shook himself and withdrew his hairs. That band loosened their limbs, sat up, and then fled one by one in panic. Tripitaka moved on and brought the goods back to return them. Yet this turn proved like moths flying into flame, only to be consumed. There is a poem proving it:

In return for grace, compassion among men is thin; yet kindness is made into enmity. To save one sunk in water may yet lose in the end; if one considers three times before acting, there will be no regret.

The four disciples, carrying the gold, silver, and garments, were on the move when suddenly a dense cluster of spears and swords came charging at them. Tripitaka said in alarm, “Disciple, look at that crowd of weapons—is this trouble of some sort?” Zhu Bajie said, “Calamity has come. Calamity has come. Those are the bandits we released; they have taken weapons and recruited others, now coming back to fight and kill us.” Sha Wujing said, “Second Brother, those coming are no bandit force. Great Brother, look more closely.” Wukong whispered to Sha Wujing, “Master’s unlucky star has come again. This must be the magistracy’s intent to catch thieves.” Before he could finish, the soldiers arrived at the roadside and formed a ringing array, surrounding the monks, saying, “Good monks! You robbed a house and still stand about here?” They surged forward, first pulling Tripitaka from his horse and binding him with rope; then they bound Wukong and the other two at the same time. Putting on carrying bars, with two bearing one, they drove the horses away, seized the loads, and went straight back to the prefecture city. Just then:

Tripitaka trembled and quivered, tears in his eyes, words unable to form. Zhu Bajie babbled and complained, resentment churning within. Sha Wujing stood stiff as a sack, hesitation in his heart. Wukong grinned and prepared to try a stratagem.

The soldiers, packed in a dense crush, carried them in and in a moment brought them to the city hall, and immediately climbed the yellow hall to report: “My Lord, the constables have captured thieves.” The magistrate sat upright on the bench, rewarded the men, inspected the loot, and ordered it handed to Kou’s household. Then he brought Tripitaka and the others forward to the hall and asked, “You monk there says you came from the Eastern Land to go west to worship Buddha, yet you are clearly thieves who break into homes by cunning methods.” Tripitaka said, “Please permit an explanation: poor monk is no thief and dared not pretend otherwise. Our travel pass is with us to prove it. We were in Kou Yowai’s household’s kitchen service for half a month; the depth of that kindness is great. We met these bandits and turned back their stolen goods toward the Kou house to return the favor. Unhappily we were seized by the constables, who took us for thieves. We are truly no thieves. Please let Your Honor examine carefully.” The magistrate said, “You beg for kindness after being seized by officers. If you truly met thieves, why not bring them along and report the matter there and then? Why do only the four of you stand here? See, if the loss list of the Kou household names it, you dare still deny?” Tripitaka felt as though an ocean had swallowed a boat; his soul seemed to fly and his spirit fade. He cried, “Wukong, why do you not come up and argue this?” Wukong said, “The stolen goods are real; why argue?” The magistrate said, “Exactly. The evidence still exists. How dare you deny it?” He ordered, “Fetch the tightening headband and cinch this bald monk one turn, then beat him.” Wukong was anxious and thought to himself: Even though this should be my master’s hardship, I must not let him suffer fully. He saw the officers preparing the tightening headbands and cords, and spoke at once: “My lord, do not place the tightening headband on that monk. I was the one who lit the house that was robbed last night, I was the one who held the knife, I was the one who stole the goods, and I was the one who killed. I am the bandit leader. Beat me only; they have no part in it. If you do not let me go, so be it.” The magistrate heard this and ordered the first one to be bound at once. The jailers came at once, put the headband on Wukong, and tightened it a notch. With a sharp crack the cord snapped. Again they bound and tightened; again with a sharp crack it snapped. Wukong endured three or four such rounds, yet not a wrinkle appeared on his scalp.

Even as they were knotting and tying again, someone came reporting, “My Lord, the junior guardian Chen Shaobao has arrived. Please ride out and receive him.” The magistrate immediately ordered the prison clerk: “Take these thieves into custody and keep them under close watch. When I receive my superior, I will continue interrogation.” The prison clerk then shoved Tripitaka and the three disciples into the jail gate. Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing carried their personal bundle loads with them. Tripitaka said, “Disciple, what is this all about?” Wukong said, “Master, go in, go in. There are no barking dogs here—it is a fine place to sport with them.” Alas, he was all for sport, but the four of them were each pushed onto detention cots, their bellies rolled, heads struck, chests pulled. The jailers came again and beat them in disorder. Tripitaka, in terrible pain, could barely bear it and called, “Wukong, what is to be done, what is to be done?” Wukong said, “They are doing this for money. As the saying goes, ‘where comfort comes, money buys it; where hardship comes, money buys it off.’ Give them some money and it will be done.” Tripitaka said, “Where would my money come from?” Wukong said, “If there is no money, then give clothing too—give them that robe of mine.” When Tripitaka heard this, his heart felt like being stabbed by a knife. At once seeing he could not bear the beatings, he said, “Wukong, do as you see fit.”

Sun Wukong said, “Honored officers, do not beat him anymore. In the two bundles they carried in, there is a brocaded kasaya worth a thousand pieces of gold; untie it and take it away.” The guards heard him, and all began untying the two bundles together. There were indeed a few pieces of plain cloth and a small satchel; none of these was worth a coin. They then saw one object wrapped in several layers of oiled paper, glowing with rosy light, and knew it must be precious. When they shook it open, they saw only:

Clever workmanship with bright pearls set in place, rare Buddha treasures heaped together. Dragon coils and embroidered knots, brocade bordered with flying phoenixes. All watched in amazement and, as before, startled the magistrate’s jail officer nearby, who came running over shouting, “What are you all shouting about here?” The guards knelt and said, “Old father, at the first inspection we brought in four monks. These were not ordinary men but a band of ruffians. He saw we beat him a few times, and he gave us these two bundles. When we opened them, we saw this object and knew we could do nothing with it: if we tore it apart and divided it, that would be wasted; if one man took it all, the others would gain nothing. We are lucky you came. By your authority, please split it fairly.” The jail officer looked: it was indeed a kasaya, and he also opened the other garments and the satchel for inspection. He then opened the packet inside and saw seals and seals of office from many lands, and said, “If I had not come to inspect it myself, you all would already have caused trouble. These monks are no bandits. Do not touch their clothes. Wait until tomorrow, when the Prefect hears the case, and only then will the truth be known.” Hearing him, the guards returned the bundles to him, repacked them as before, and handed them over for safekeeping to the jail officer.

It grew evening at last. From the tower they heard drums and the torch-guarding rounds. They endured into the fourth watch, to three points past; when Sun Wukong saw they were not groaning and all were asleep, he thought, “Tripitaka has this prison misery for the whole night. If Old Sun had opened his mouth to intervene and not used magic, it was only for this. Now the fourth watch is almost done; the calamity will be fulfilled. I must make arrangements so that at daybreak we can get out of the prison gate.” See how he worked his arts: he shrank his body smaller and smaller, slipped out from the prison mat. In one shift he turned into a cricket and flew out through the crack in the roof tile. The stars and bright moonlight made the sky clear and the night still and gentle. He fixed his direction and flew straight toward the Kou household. He saw a house to the west end of the street, lit brightly. Flying nearer and looking at its doorway, he found it was a tofu maker’s place: an old man was tending the fire, while a woman pumped the mash. Suddenly the old man said in a loud aside, “Kou Daguān has sons and wealth, but no fortune for longevity. As boys he and I were classmates, I was five years older. His father, called Kou Ming, had not, even then, a thousand mu of land; he held some rental accounts, yet could not even collect enough. When he was twenty, old Ming died and he took charge of the household. In truth it was an auspicious turn: he married the daughter of Zhang Wang, whose childhood name was Chuanzhen, and she proved to bring prosperity. She entered his house and fortune followed—fields yielded, accounts rose, ventures succeeded, he gained all kinds of profit, and today he has amassed household goods of one hundred thousand. By the time he was past forty, he turned to piety, held alms for ten thousand monks. Yet only last night he was kicked to death by bandits. Pity indeed! He is only sixty-four this year, just beginning to enjoy life. How strange that one so inclined to goodness should get no good report, only die by violent fate. Alas, alas!”

By the first moment of dawn in the fifth watch, Sun Wukong flew into the Kou house. In the main hall there was already a coffin standing, a lamp burning by the headboard, and offerings of incense, candles, flowers, and fruit arranged. The mother was crying by the side; he also saw the two sons come and bow in mourning, while two daughters-in-law carried two bowls of food as tribute. Sun Wukong clung to the headboard of the coffin and coughed once. The daughters-in-law, startled, flailed hands and feet and ran outside; the two sons of Kou Liang lay on the ground in fear, not daring to move, only crying, “Father! huhu…” The mother, bold of heart, patted the coffin and said, “Old gentleman, are you still alive?” Sun Wukong answered in that father’s voice, “I have not died.” The two sons, frightened, kept bowing and weeping without cease, crying, “Father! huhu…” The mother, daring it out, asked again, “If you are not alive, how can you speak?” Sun Wukong said, “I am a ghost-officer sent by Yama to be brought here and speak with you. Zhang Wang’s daughter Chuanzhen has lied with her false tongue and trapped innocents.” When the mother heard him call her by her nickname, she collapsed in fear and knelt, knocking her head. “Good old sir! At your age you still call me by my little name. What false words have I spoken, and whom have I harmed?” Sun Wukong shouted, “There is a charge that says: ‘Tripitaka lit the fire, Zhu Bajie called for killing, Sha Wujing took away gold and silver, and Sun Wukong killed your father.’ All because of your falsehood and deceit, you made an innocent man suffer. The four holy monks of the Tang road met violent offenders, captured the goods, and sent them in gratitude to me. How can you pretend and feign confusion, making your sons the chief defendants. The yamen has not examined carefully, and now has jailed them. The jail god, land spirit, and city god are all in disarray; they have reported to Yama. Yama sent a ghost-officer to escort me here, commanding you to release him quickly, else he has ordered me to stir up trouble here for a full month and leave no one in the whole household—old, young, chickens, or dogs—alive.” The brothers of Kou Liang knelt and pleaded with tears, “Father, please go back and do not injure old and young alike. When dawn comes we will go to the yamen and submit a petition of release, and if you command we will submit ourselves and return him. Only grant us peace through life and death.” Sun Wukong heard this and said, “Burn paper, I am leaving now.” The whole family burned paper together.

Sun Wukong flew up and straight to the magistrate’s residence, looked over it from above, and saw light already burning inside. He observed that the inner hall had lights already lit and that the magistrate had risen. He flew into the central hall and saw, hanging on the back wall, a large hanging painting: an official riding a dappled horse, several attendants holding a green umbrella and carrying what looked like a narrow examination couch. He did not know what story it showed. Sun Wukong took a place in the middle. Suddenly the magistrate came out of the inner room and bent over to wash. Sun Wukong coughed sharply, frightening the magistrate so much that he rushed inside. After washing, he put on a long robe and came out before the painting, burned incense, and prayed, “O ancestor Jiang Gong, spirit-seat of the Great One: dutiful nephew Jiang Kun-san, favored by ancestral virtue, who barely passed the highest examinations, now holds this office as Prefect of Tongtai commandery. Morning and evening I offer incense to this tablet without cease; why do you voice now? Do not become evil and demonic, lest you frighten the household.” Sun Wukong smiled inwardly: this was his grandsire’s deity. He then lifted the scripture-scroll voice and called out, “Kunsan, worthy nephew, though your office comes through ancestral grace and your conduct is usually upright and clean, how yesterday did you, in your ignorance, take the four holy monks for bandits without hearing their case and lock them away in prison? The prison god, land god, and city god were disturbed and have already reported to Yama. Yama sent a ghost-officer to bring me here and tell you: follow compassion and fairness, judge correctly, and release them at once. If not, he has told me to take you to the underworld for judgment.” Hearing this, the magistrate trembled and said, “Great lord, please go back. My reverent nephew has come to court; I will release them immediately.” Sun Wukong said, “If so, burn paper; I am leaving to report back to Yama.” The magistrate again added incense, burned paper, and offered thanks.

When Sun Wukong came out and looked again, the east was already whitening. As he reached the magistrate’s hall of the county, he saw all the county officers already gathered there. He thought, “If this cricket form speaks and someone sees, my disguise is exposed.” In midair he resumed his great Dharma-body and from the sky lowered one foot to cover the entire hall floor. In a loud voice he said, “All officials listen well: I am the disorderly roaming spirit sent by the Jade Emperor. In this yamen you have cruelly beaten and detained the Buddha disciple Tripitaka, disturbing the gods of the Three Realms and causing unrest. I have come to announce this. Release him at once. If there is any delay, I shall come back with this foot: first I will kick the county magistrate dead, then stamp to death the residents of all four boundaries, and trample the whole city into ash.” The county officials, clerks, and functionaries were thrown into panic and all knelt together, pounding their heads in prayer: “Highest Holy One, please return. We are now going to court; we will report to the magistrate and order his release at once. Do not move your foot. Do not frighten us and kill the lower officials.” Sun Wukong then withdrew his great form, returned to a cricket again, flew through the tile crack of the prison room, and again hid in the middle of the cot, sleeping as before.

As for the magistrate, after he came up to court and was only just about to raise the petition board, the two Kou brothers already came with a petition in their hands, kneeling and crying at the gate. The magistrate ordered that they be brought in. They handed up the declaration of release. The magistrate saw it and became angry: “Yesterday you submitted a complaint, and you brought in robbers with you; you then received stolen goods, and now you come again to file a petition for release?” The two men wept and said, “Sir, last night our father appeared in manifested spirit and said: ‘The holy monks of Tang were the ones who had captured robbers, seized the stolen goods, and released the thieves out of kindness, then sent those goods back to my house in return for blessings. How did you then treat them as thieves and keep them imprisoned to suffer? The jail gods, land spirit, and city god are unsettled and reported to Yama; Yama then sent a ghost-officer to escort me here to tell you again to come to the yamen and petition once more, release the Tang monks, and thus avoid calamity. If not, old and young alike will perish.’ Therefore we have specially come to submit this pleading of release. We beg you, make it convenient, make it convenient.” Hearing their words, the magistrate thought inwardly, “That father of theirs is a recently dead ghost; a newly cold body returning as a spirit, retribution may indeed occur. But my uncle died five or six years ago—how could he appear also this very night and tell me to release them? It looks as though the charge is surely false.”

While he was still pondering, the magistrate of Diling County and other officials came rushing into the hall in haste, all in a panic, crying, “My lord, disaster, disaster! The Jade Emperor has just sent the wandering spirit to descend to the world and ordered you to release the upright monks in prison at once. The monks arrested yesterday were not bandits but all disciples of Buddha traveling on a pilgrimage. If there is even slight delay, he said he will kick and kill us officials and trample the city and its common folk into ash.” The prefect grew very pale and at once ordered the jail clerk to speedily write out the orders. The prison gate was opened and they were brought out. Pigsy sighed, “Why are we being beaten again today all of a sudden?” Sun Wukong laughed: “Don’t worry that he’ll dare to strike even one blow at you; I, Sun Wukong, have already put all matters in order. Once we enter the hall, do not kneel. He will come down to ask us to be seated. Let me first ask him for the luggage and the horses; some are missing. Then just watch me punish him.”

He had not finished speaking when they had already reached the hall entrance. The prefect, the county official in charge of Diling, and all the big and small officers of county and prefecture came out to receive them: “When the holy monk came yesterday, first, the work for the superior offices pressed hard; second, he saw the seized plunder and had no chance to question the matter carefully.” Tripitaka joined his hands and bent low, then explained the earlier events in full. Every official acknowledged it at once, saying, “We were wrong, we were wrong. Do not resent it.” He asked whether there had been any mistake in the jail. Sun Wukong stepped forward, eyes narrowed, and shouted loudly: “My white horse was taken by the men in the hall, and the baggage by the men in jail—return them quickly. Today it is for me to flog you all; you falsely arrested peaceful men as bandits. What charge justifies that?” The county officials, seeing him in fury, were all frightened. They ordered the horse handler to bring the horse and the one in charge of baggage to bring back the baggage, and each item was returned plainly. Look at them: each of the three had only dared to roar, and all the officials merely protected themselves under the name of the Kou household. Tripitaka pacified him: “Disciple, it still does not yet become clear. Let us go to the Kou household. One, let us inquire and question them. Two, let us cross-examine and compare, so we can see who claimed that I was the thief.” Sun Wukong said, “What you said is right. Let me call the dead man and ask which one kicked him.”

At the government hall Sha Wujing put Tripitaka on the horse, shouted loudly, and they all set out in a group. The many county and prefecture officials followed, arriving at the Kou residence as well. The brothers Kou Liang, frightened, kept prostrating themselves before the gate and were ushered into the hall. Inside the ancestral hall, all the household members were crying in mourning under the funeral curtains. Sun Wukong called out, “You woman who forged stories and framed an innocent man—stop crying. Let me call your husband. Let him speak and tell us which one struck the deathblow, and we shall expose him in full shame.” The officials thought Sun Wukong was making jokes. Sun Wukong said, “Gentlemen, please stay and sit with my master for a little while. Zhu Bajie, Sha Wujing, guard him closely. I will come back at once.” He the Great Sage stepped out the gate and rose into the sky. He saw around the grounds rosy cloud halos and an auspicious sheen of vapour, with a blessed air guarding the vital spirit. Then they only at last recognized him as an immortal who rides cloud and mist, a saint who can bring the dead back to life. All then burned incense and paid homage, and need not be described in detail.

The Great Sage rode his cloud and went straight through the shadowy nether realm, bursting into the Hall of the nether network. In his wake all in that realm were startled:

The ten Yama Kings folded their hands in welcome, the five-direction ghost judges knelt and bowed in meeting. Thousand sword-trees bent sideways, ten thousand knife-terraces were laid bare and level. In the City of Wrongful Death, spirits and monsters shifted in form; below the Nai River Bridge, ghostly beings rose back to life. In that instant a single divine radiance shone, like Heaven’s universal pardon; the dark Yama court was lit in every place. The ten Yama Kings received him and, upon meeting, asked his purpose. Sun Wukong said, “The ghost of Kou Hong, the alms-begging monk of Diling County under the Tongtai prefecture, who took him in there? Find which one did and bring him at once.” One said, “Kou Hong was a good man; no ghost courier seized him. He came here by himself. He met the golden-robed page of Ksitigarbha, who introduced him before Ksitigarbha.” Sun Wukong then left and went straight to the Green-Cloud Palace to see Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva. After paying their respects, he spoke plainly. Ksitigarbha said gladly, “Kou Hong’s life in sunlight had come to its ordained end; he had not yet soiled a bed or bedding and left the world by himself. Because he was a good monk, I placed him here as an overseer in the ledger of meritorious ties. Since Great Sage has come for him, I will extend his mortal life by one term and send him with you.” The golden-robed page then led out Kou Hong. Seeing Sun Wukong, Kou Hong cried again and again, “Teacher, teacher, save me.” Sun Wukong said, “You were kicked to death by bandits. This is the precinct of Ksitigarbha in the shadowy underworld. I, Sun Wukong, have come to take you back to the sunny world to make this clear. Since the Bodhisattva has returned you and added another cycle to your life, come again after twelve years.” Kou Hong bowed again and again without end.

After thanking the Bodhisattva, Sun Wukong blew him into spirit vapor, tucked him into the fold of his sleeve, and went together back through the nether hall to the world of the living. Mounting the cloud he reached Kou’s house, called to Zhu Bajie to lift the bier cover open, and returned the spirit-child into its own body. In a moment breath came out and he revived. The master crawled from the bier and knelt before Tripitaka and the four, saying, “Master, master, Kou Hong has died by unfortunate circumstance. Through the Master’s saving him from the underworld and restoring him, he has been granted another life through your grace.” He could not stop thanking him. Turning around, he saw all the officials lined up and knelt again: “Honored elders, what should we all do?” The prefect said, “When your son first lodged the report, he named the holy monk, so I at once sent men to arrest. It so happened that the holy monk met on the road the bandits who had sacked your household and taken back your goods, then brought them to you. My men mistakenly detained you and did not examine the matter fully; they were about to send you to prison. Tonight, when you manifested your spirit, my senior officer too came here to make a statement. The county also received the descent of the wandering spirit from above, and there were these many immediate apparitions at once, so we released the holy monk. The holy monk then even went and revived you.” The master knelt and said, “Lord, indeed these four holy monks were truly innocent of this. That night more than thirty bandits, brandishing staffs with lanterns, raided our household goods. I tried to reason with them, and suddenly one kicked and struck me from the side in the dark and I died. What had these four to do with it?” He called for his wife, “Which one kicked him dead? How could you dare to falsely accuse? Let the elders judge them.” Then the whole household, old and young, only knelt. The prefect, in leniency, pardoned their fault. Kou Hong arranged a banquet and offered thanks for the generosity of the county office. None of the officials had yet sat down and returned to the yamen. The next day, he hung the monk notice again and again invited Tripitaka to stay. Tripitaka would not agree to stay. He then invited relatives and friends, prepared banners and escorts, and sent them off as before. Ah, this is indeed:

Earth may preserve even acts of wickedness, but the high heavens never fail a heart inclined to good. In untroubled, steady steps along the Buddha’s path, one comes only to the gates of the Pure Bliss of Lingshan.

As yet it remains unknown how they may attain an audience with the Buddha; listen now to the resolution in the next chapter to come.