Chapter 85

At the opening of court that day, the civil and military officials all held memorials in their hands and reported: "Your Majesty, we beg you to pardon us for our breach of decorum." The king said, "My lords, your manners are as usual; what breach of decorum have you committed?" The lords said, "Your Majesty, we do not know why, but in a single night all of us have lost our hair." Holding the memorial about the loss of hair, the king descended from the dragon couch and said to his ministers, "Indeed, I do not know why it happened—in my palace, from the highest to the lowest, everyone has also lost all their hair overnight." The king and his subjects all wept tears and said, "From this day forth, we shall never again slaughter monks." The king then returned to the dragon throne, and the officials each took their proper places. The king spoke again: "If there is business, step out of the ranks to report it; if there is none, roll up the curtain and dismiss the court." Then from the military ranks emerged the General of the City Patrol, and from the civil ranks emerged the Commander of the Eastern City Garrison. They knelt before the steps and kowtowed, saying: "We, your humble subjects, received Your Majesty's command to patrol the city. Last night we seized a stolen chest and a white horse. We dare not presume to decide on our own and beg Your Majesty's judgment." The king was greatly pleased and said, "Bring the chest here." The two officials withdrew to their office, mustered a full company of soldiers, and had the chest carried out. Inside, Tripitaka was terrified out of his wits and said, "Disciples, once we are brought before the king, how shall we explain ourselves?" Pilgrim laughed and said, "Stop your noise—I have everything ready. When they open the chest, he will bow to us and call us master. Just tell Pigsy not to start any bickering." Pigsy said, "If we can just avoid being killed, that will be blessings without measure—how could I dare to bicker?" Before they had finished speaking, the chest was carried to the outside of the court, passed through the Five Phoenix Tower, and set down below the crimson steps. The two officials requested the king to open it, and the king ordered it opened at once. No sooner had the lid been lifted than Pigsy could not restrain himself and leaped out, so terrifying the many officials that they trembled with fear and could not speak. Next they saw Pilgrim helping Tripitaka out, while Sha Monk carried out the luggage. When Pigsy saw the General leading the horse, he stepped forward and said with a loud "Hmph!," "That horse is mine—bring it here!" So frightened was the officer that he turned a somersault and fell to the ground. The four of them all stood in the middle of the hall. When the king saw that they were four monks, he hurriedly descended from the dragon couch, summoned the three consorts and the ladies of the rear palace, left the Golden Chime Treasure Hall, and together with his ministers bowed and asked, "Venerable masters, from whence do you come?" Tripitaka said, "Your humble monk was dispatched by the Great Tang in the East to proceed to the Great Thunderclap Monastery in the Tianzhu Kingdom in the West to worship the Living Buddha and fetch the true scriptures." The king said, "Venerable master, you have come from afar—why did you rest inside this chest?" Tripitaka said, "Your poor monk knew that Your Majesty had made a vow to kill monks, and so dared not openly present himself to your noble kingdom. He disguised himself as a layman and sought lodging at an inn in your precious capital last night. Fearing that someone might see through his true appearance, he rested inside the chest. Unfortunately, he was stolen by thieves and carried out, then captured by the General and brought here. Now that I have been granted an audience with Your Majesty's dragon countenance, it is like parting the clouds to see the sun. I beg Your Majesty to pardon and release your poor monk—that would be a kindness deeper than the sea." The king said, "Venerable master is a great monk from the lofty court of heaven. We have failed to welcome you properly. For many years I have had a vow to kill monks—once, because a monk slandered me, I made a solemn vow to kill ten thousand monks to complete my offering. Unexpectedly, tonight we have taken refuge, and we are all made to become monks. Now the king, his subjects, and the consorts have all had their hair shaved off. We beg the venerable master not to begrudge us his noble wisdom and to accept us as his disciples." When Pigsy heard this, he threw back his head and laughed heartily, saying, "If you want to become our disciples, what tribute gifts do you bring?" The king said, "If the master will consent, I am willing to offer all the treasures in the kingdom." Pilgrim said, "Forget the treasures—I am a monk of the Way. Just exchange our travel document, send us out of the city, and I guarantee your royal domain will endure forever and your fortune and longevity will ever increase." When the king heard this, he immediately ordered the Court of Imperial Banquets to prepare a great feast. The king and his ministers all bowed and converted as one. The travel document was promptly exchanged, and they asked the master to change the kingdom's name. Pilgrim said, "Your Majesty's name, 'France,' is very good, but the character 'Mie' [Destroy] is not fitting. Since I have passed through, you may change the name to 'Qin-Fa Kingdom' [Revere Buddhism], and I guarantee that your seas will be calm and rivers clear for a thousand generations, and that the wind and rain will be timely and all lands at peace for ten thousand ages." The king thanked him for this favor. The royal procession was then made ready to escort the four monks of Tang out of the city and toward the west. The king and his subjects, having turned to virtue and returned to truth, need not be further told of. Now when the elder had taken leave of the Qin-Fa Kingdom's king, he said cheerfully from his horse, "Wukong, this plan of yours was excellent indeed—a great accomplishment." Sha Monk said, "Brother, where did you find so many barbers to shave all those heads in a single night?" Pilgrim then told them in full how he had worked his transformations and displayed his divine powers. The master and disciples all laughed without ceasing. Just as they were rejoicing, they suddenly saw a high mountain blocking their path. Tang Monk reined in his horse and said, "Disciples, look at the towering peaks before us—we must be very careful." Pilgrim laughed and said, "Rest easy, rest easy—I guarantee you'll come to no harm." Tripitaka said, "Do not say there is no harm. I see those peaks standing tall and sharp, and from afar there is an ominous aura, with violent clouds rising. I begin to feel alarmed, my whole body grows numb, and my mind is uneasy." Pilgrim laughed and said, "Have you already forgotten the Heart Sutra that the Old Urn-Chan taught you?" Tripitaka said, "I remember it." Pilgrim said, "You may remember it, but there are four lines of verse that you have forgotten." Tripitaka said, "Which four lines?" Pilgrim said: "Do not seek afar for Buddha on Spirit Mountain— Spirit Mountain is only in your own heart. Every person has a Spirit Mountain pagoda; Cultivate well beneath the Spirit Mountain pagoda." Tripitaka said, "Disciple, do I not know this? If one follows these four lines, all the thousands of sutras and myriads of scriptures are but the cultivation of the mind." Pilgrim said, "No need to say more. When the mind is pure, the lone light shines clear; when the mind is present, every realm is bright. The slightest error or slackening, and even after a thousand years and ten thousand ages you shall not succeed. But with wholehearted sincerity, the Thunderclap is right before your eyes. If you are as fearful and alarmed as this, with an uneasy mind, the great Way is far away, and the Thunderclap is far away too. Do not harbor doubts—come with me." When the elder heard these words, his mind was immediately refreshed and all his worries vanished. The four of them then advanced together. Before long they reached the mountain. Raising their eyes, they saw: Truly a fine mountain it was, With colors dappled everywhere. Clouds drifted over its summit, Shadows of trees chilled the cliffs. Birds fluttered and chirped, Fierce beasts rampaged. Within the forest, a thousand pines stood; On the ridges, a few bamboo stalks grew. Howling came from grey wolves fighting for prey, Roaring from starving tigers battling for food. Wild apes gave long cries as they sought fresh fruit, Deer and elk climbed the green mists to pluck flowers. Wind whistled, water gurgled, And now and then one heard the calls of hidden birds. In several places vines crept and entwined, Throughout the stream, precious grasses mixed with orchids. Gleaming were the strange rocks, Sheer and sharp the peaks and crags. Foxes and badgers roamed in herds, Monkeys and apes played in bands. The traveler indeed worried at this steep and perilous terrain, And worse, the ancient road wound round and round again. As the master and disciples proceeded with timidity and alarm, they suddenly heard a great gust of wind arise. Tripitaka said in fear, "The wind is rising." Pilgrim said, "In spring there is the gentle wind, in summer the warm wind, in autumn the golden wind, and in winter the north wind. The four seasons all have their winds—why fear a rising wind?" Tripitaka said, "This wind comes with great urgency—it cannot be a natural wind." Pilgrim said, "Since ancient times, wind rises from the earth, and clouds emerge from the mountains—how could there be such a thing as a heavenly wind?" Before he had finished speaking, they saw a fog arise. That fog was truly: Vast and boundless, it darkened the sky; Thick and dense, it dimmed the earth. The sunlight lost all its shadow, And birdsong could be heard nowhere. It was wholly like primordial chaos, And seemed like flying dust. No trees could be seen on the peaks, Nor could one meet a herb-gatherer. Tripitaka grew even more alarmed and said, "Wukong, the wind has not yet settled—how can this fog rise as well?" Pilgrim said, "Do not rush. Please dismount, Master, and you two brothers guard him here while I go see whether this portends good or ill." Dear Great Sage, he bent his waist and shot up into midair. He raised his hand to his brow, opened wide his fiery golden eyes, and looked down. Indeed, he saw an ogre sitting by the overhanging cliff. See how he appeared: Bright and brilliant, his patterned stripes were colorful; Mighty and grand, his imposing bearing was fierce. His fangs jutted from his mouth like steel drills; His sharp claws, hidden beneath his hooves, were like jade hooks. The golden-eyed, round-pupiled birds and beasts were afraid; the silver whiskers standing on end made ghosts and spirits grieve. He raged and roared with violent might, blowing mist and spurting wind as he plotted his schemes. It was also seen that around him were arrayed thirty or forty lesser demons, who were there pressing their powers to spurt wind and blow mist. Wukong laughed to himself: "My master did have some forewarning—he said it was not the wind of heaven, and indeed this wind is caused by a demon making sport here. If I, Old Sun, brought down my iron staff and struck, that would be 'pounding garlic,' and I could beat him to death, but it would ruin my reputation." Now Wukong, all his life a bold hero, never knew how to scheme against others secretly. He said: "I shall go back, look after Zhu Bajie, and get him to come and have a first bout with this demon. If Bajie has skill and beats the demon, that's his good fortune; if he lacks ability and is captured by the demon, then I can go and rescue him, and that will bring me fame. Besides, he usually puts on airs and is lazy, unwilling to take the lead, yet he is greedy and fond of eating. Let me coax him a little and see what he says." He immediately descended from the clouds and came before Sanzang. Sanzang asked: "Wukong, how fare the omens in that windy mist?" Wukong said: "Right now it is clear, there is not much wind or mist." Sanzang said: "Indeed, I felt it recede a little." Wukong laughed: "Master, I usually see well, but this time I was mistaken. I thought there might be demons in the wind and mist, but it turns out there are none." Sanzang said: "Then what is it?" Wukong said: "Not far ahead is a village. The villagers are kind and devout, steaming white rice and white flour buns to feed monks. This mist must be the steam from their steamers, an auspicious sign of their accumulated virtue." When Bajie heard this, he took it as true, pulled Wukong aside, and whispered: "Elder Brother, have you already eaten their alms food?" Wukong said: "I ate only a little, because the vegetables were too salty, and I did not care to eat more." Bajie said: "Tch! No matter how salty, I'd stuff my belly full. If I get very thirsty, I'll come back for water." Wukong said: "Do you want to eat?" Bajie said: "Yes, I'm a bit hungry, so I want to go first and have some—what do you think?" Wukong said: "Brother, don't mention it. An old book says: 'When the father is present, the son may not act on his own.' And Master is here—who would dare go first?" Bajie laughed: "If you say nothing, I'll go." Wukong said: "I'll say nothing—let's see how you can get there." That idiot was especially crafty when it came to eating. He stepped forward, made a deep bow, and said: "Master, just now Senior Brother said that there are people in the village ahead offering alms to monks. Look at this horse—it might trouble the household, wanting grass and fodder—that would be troublesome. Fortunately, the wind and mist have cleared; you all sit for a while, and let me go find some tender grass to feed the horse first, and then we can go to that house to beg for alms." Tang Sanzang was pleased and said: "Good! How is it that today you are so diligent? Go quickly and come back quickly." That idiot laughed secretly and set off. Wukong caught up and tugged at him, saying: "Brother, they only give alms to handsome monks, not to ugly ones." Bajie said: "Then I must transform again." Wukong said: "Exactly—go and change." That fine idiot also had seventy-two transformations; he went into a hollow in the hills, made a hand seal, recited the spell, shook his body, and changed into a short, thin monk. He carried a wooden fish in his hand and hummed "heng-a-heng," but he could not chant sutras, only humming "The Great Superior." Now that monster had withdrawn the wind and dispersed the mist, and commanded his swarm of demons to set up a ring formation at the main road, waiting specifically for travelers. This idiot was unlucky; before long he stumbled right into their midst, and the demons surrounded him. Some grabbed his clothes, others pulled his sash, pushing and shoving, all laying hands on him. Bajie said: "Don't pull—let me eat my way through one family at a time." The demons said: "Monk, what do you want to eat?" Bajie said: "You here give alms to monks, so I've come to eat." The demons said: "You think we give alms to monks here, but you don't know that we specialize in eating monks. We are all demon-immortals who have attained the Way in these mountains, and we specially take monks like you home, steam them in steamers, and eat them. And you still think you can come here for alms." When Bajie heard this, he grew frightened and began to curse Wukong: "That Protector of the Horses is truly a lazy scoundrel. He tricked me, saying there was a village giving alms—where is any village here? Where are any monks to feed? It turns out to be this demon!" The idiot, being pulled too hard, then revealed his true form, drew his rake from his waist, and swung it wildly, driving back the lesser demons. The lesser demons scurried off to report to the old demon: "Great King, disaster!" The old monster said: "What disaster?" The lesser demons said: "A monk has come before the mountain, and he looks quite clean. We said we'd take him home and steam him to eat; if we can't finish him, we'd keep some for rainy days. We didn't expect he could transform." The old monster said: "What shape did he transform into?" The lesser demons said: "He doesn't look human at all—long snout, big ears, with bristles on his back. In both hands he wields a rake, swinging it wildly at heads and faces, frightening us so we ran back to report to you, Great King." The old monster said: "Don't fear—let me go and see." He hefted an iron cudgel and approached to look, and indeed that idiot was ugly and fearsome. He looked like: A pestle-snout just over three feet long, Tusks protruding like silver nails. Round eyes flashed like lightning, Ears flapped with a whooshing sound. Bristles behind his head stood like iron arrows, His whole body rough, scabbed, and still blue-green. In his hand he wielded a strange thing— A nine-pronged rake that startled all. The demon braced himself and shouted: "Where do you come from? What is your name? Speak quickly, and I'll spare your life." Bajie laughed: "My son, you don't even recognize your grandfather Pig. Come closer, and I'll tell you: With huge mouth and sharp tusks, my divine strength is great; The Jade Emperor promoted me to Marshal Tianpeng. I commanded eighty thousand soldiers of the Heavenly River, Carefree and happy in the Heavenly Palace. Only because drunk I teased the celestial maidens, And then I showed off my prowess. With one snout I toppled the Dipper and Bull palaces, And ate the Queen Mother's lingzhi plants. The Jade Emperor personally beat me two thousand blows, And banished me down from the three heavenly realms. He commanded me to cultivate my primal spirit, But down below I became a demon again. I was happily betrothed in Gao Village, But ill fate made me meet Elder Brother Sun. Under his Golden Cudgel I submitted, Bowed my head and took refuge in the Sha Sect. Carrying the horse and lugging packs as a drudge, I owed debts from a previous life to Tang Sanzang. This iron-footed Tianpeng's surname is Pig, And his monastic name is Zhu Bajie." When the demon heard this, he shouted: "So you are a disciple of Tang Sanzang. I have long heard that Tang Sanzang's flesh is delicious, and I was about to capture you—and now you come right to me. Why would I spare you? Don't run—watch my cudgel!" Bajie said: "Beast, so you're a dyer by trade." The demon said: "How am I a dyer?" Bajie said: "If you weren't a dyer, how could you wield a beating stick?" The monster gave him no chance to explain, but came close and struck wildly. The two of them fought in that hollow—a fine battle: Nine-pronged rake and one iron cudgel. The rake flung out its arts, rolling wild winds; The cudgel spun its stratagems, flying swift rain. One was a nameless evil fiend blocking the mountain path, The other a condemned Tianpeng aiding his master of nature. With nature upright, what fear of demon or fiend? Though mountains are high, metal does not overcome earth. That cudgel rose like a python from the pool, This rake came like a dragon leaving the shore. Shouts and cries shook the hills and streams, Roars of majesty frightened the underworld. Both heroes each displayed their prowess, Staking their lives in a gamble of divine powers. Bajie mustered his might and fought with the fiend, while the monster ordered his little demons to surround Bajie on all sides—but no more of that. Meanwhile, the Pilgrim, behind Tang Monk, suddenly let out a cold laugh. Sha Monk said, "Elder Brother, why do you laugh coldly?" The Pilgrim said, "Pig really is a fool. Hearing about feeding the monks, he was tricked by me and went off. It's still not yet time for him to return: if with one bout of his rake he beats back the fiend, you'll see him come back victorious, clamoring for credit; but if he cannot overcome and is taken by him, then it's my bad luck—behind my back and to my face, who knows how many times he has cursed 'Bimawen'! Wujing, say nothing, let me go and see." Excellent Great Sage! Without letting the elder know, he quietly plucked a hair from behind his head, blew on it a breath of immortal air, and called, "Change!" It at once changed into an exact likeness of himself, staying beside Sha Monk and following the elder. His true form projected out, leaped into the air, and looked down. He saw that the fool was surrounded by monsters, his rake in disarray, gradually unable to hold his own. The Pilgrim could not restrain himself, lowered his cloud, and called out loudly, "Bajie, don't panic! Old Sun is here!" When the fool heard the Pilgrim's voice, he took heart, grew even more fierce, and with his rake furiously thrust forward. The fiend could not withstand him and said, "This monk was not up to much before—how is it he's become so fierce now?" Bajie said, "My son, don't bully me—my family has come!" He pressed forward even more, striking blindly at head and face. The fiend truly could not parry, and led his host of demons in defeat. When the Pilgrim saw the fiend retreat, he did not approach, but turned his cloud and went straight back to his place, shook his hair, and gathered it back onto his body. The elder, with his mortal eyes and fleshly body, could not recognize it. In a short while, the fool, having won, also turned back, exhausted, with sticky drool and nasal mucus, frothing at the mouth. Panting heavily, he came up and called, "Master." When the elder saw him, he exclaimed in surprise, "Bajie, you went to cut horse-fodder—how is it you return in such a sorry state? I suppose the people in the mountain have guards and won't let you cut grass?" The fool put down his rake, thumped his chest and stamped his feet, saying, "Master, don't ask—if I tell you, I'll be mortified to death." The elder said, "Why are you ashamed?" Bajie said, "Elder Brother played a trick on me. Earlier he said that in the wind and mist there was no fiend, no ill omen, but a village of good folk steaming white rice and white-flour buns to feed monks. I took it seriously, thinking my belly was hungry, and went ahead to beg some, pretending to cut grass. How was I to know there were so many monsters who surrounded me and fought me bitterly for so long? If not for Elder Brother's mourning staff helping me, I would never have escaped their net and returned." The Pilgrim laughed beside him and said, "Nonsense from this fool. If you were a thief, you'd implicate the whole prison. I've been here watching Master—when did I ever leave?" The elder said, "Indeed, Wukong has not left me." The fool jumped and shouted, "Master, you don't know—he has a substitute." The elder said, "Wukong, is there really any monster?" The Pilgrim could not hide it, and bowing with a smile said, "There are a few little demons, but they dare not provoke us. —Bajie, come here, let me take care of you once more. Since we are protecting Master through these perilous mountain roads, it's like marching to war." Bajie said, "What about marching to war?" The Pilgrim said, "You be the vanguard general, clearing the way ahead. If the fiend does not come, fine; if he does, you fight him, and if you defeat him, the merit is yours." Bajie, measuring that the fiend's skills were about equal to his, said, "Even if I die at his hands, so be it—let me go first." The Pilgrim laughed, "This fool starts with unlucky words—how will he ever improve?" Bajie said, "Elder Brother, you know: when a nobleman goes to a feast, either he gets drunk or he gets full; when a warrior goes to battle, either he dies or he is wounded. Saying something unlucky first, then there will be might later." The Pilgrim was pleased, and promptly carried the horse, invited the master to mount, Sha Monk shouldered the luggage, and they followed Bajie into the mountains—no more of that. Now as to the fiend: he led a few defeated, battered little demons straight back to his own cave, sat high on the stone cliff, and remained silent. Many other little demons guarding the cave came forward and asked, "Great King, whenever you go out, you return happily—why are you so troubled today?" The old fiend said, "My little ones, when I used to go out to patrol the mountain, I would always catch a few people or beasts to bring back home to feed you. Today my luck was low, and I ran into an adversary." The little demons asked, "Who is that adversary?" The old fiend said, "It is a monk, a disciple of Tang Sanzang from the East who is going to fetch scriptures, named Zhu Bajie. He gave me a bout with his rake and defeated me in battle. How vexing! I have often heard people say that Tang Sanzang is an arhat who has cultivated for ten incarnations, and if one eats a piece of his flesh, one can prolong life and gain immortality. Unexpectedly, he has come to my mountain today, and I was just about to capture him and steam him to eat, but I did not know he had such a disciple." Before he finished speaking, from among the ranks a little demon darted out, and facing the old fiend, sobbed and wept three times, then laughed heartily three times. The old fiend shouted, "You cry and laugh—why?" The little demon knelt and said, "Great King just said he wanted to eat Tang Sanzang, but Tang Sanzang's flesh is not good to eat." The old fiend said, "Everyone says that eating a piece of his flesh can make one immortal, living as long as heaven—why do you say it is not good to eat?" The little demon said, "If it were good to eat, he would never have gotten this far—other fiends would have eaten him already. He has three disciples." The old fiend said, "Do you know who those three are?" The little demon said, "His eldest disciple is Sun Wukong, the third is Sha Heshang, and this one is his second disciple Zhu Bajie." The old fiend said, "How does Sha Heshang compare to Zhu Bajie?" The little demon said, "About the same." "How does that Sun Wukong compare to him?" The little demon stuck out his tongue and said, "I dare not say. That Sun Wukong has vast supernatural powers and myriad transformations. Five hundred years ago he caused havoc in Heaven—even the Twenty-Eight Mansions above, the Nine Luminaries star officers, the Twelve Time-Deities, the Five Ministers and Four Ministers, the Eastern and Western constellations, the Southern and Northern gods, the Five Sacred Mountains and Four Rivers, and all the heavenly generals never dared to provoke him. How dare you want to eat Tang Sanzang?" The old fiend said, "How do you know all this in such detail?" The little demon said, "I once lived with that Great King at the Lion-Camel Ridge in the Lion-Camel Cave. That Great King, not knowing better, wanted to eat Tang Sanzang, but Sun Wukong came with his Golden Cudgel and smashed through the gate—poor fellow, he was beaten so that it became a domino pattern: 'all ones and sixes were broken off.' Luckily I had some sense and escaped through the back door, coming here, where I was kindly taken in by the Great King. That is why I know his abilities." When the old fiend heard this, he was greatly shocked and his color changed. This is indeed: "A great general fears ominous words." Hearing such things from his own people, how could he not be alarmed? While the Right One was still in dread, another little demon stepped forward and said, "Great King, do not be angry, do not be afraid. As the saying goes, 'Matters should be handled with deliberation.' If you wish to eat the Tang monk, let me devise a plan to capture him." The old demon said, "What plan have you?" The little demon said, "I have a 'Split-Petal Plum Blossom Stratagem.'" The old demon said, "What is meant by 'Split-Petal Plum Blossom Stratagem'?" The little demon said, "Now call together all the host of demons, great and small, at the cave mouth. From a thousand choose a hundred, from a hundred choose ten, and from ten choose only three. They must be capable and able to transform. Let them all assume the likeness of Your Majesty, don Your Majesty's helmet, wear Your Majesty's armor, and wield Your Majesty's iron pestle, and lie in ambush in three places. First send one to fight Zhu Bajie, then send one to fight Sun Wukong, and then send one to fight Sha Heshang. Sacrifice these three little demons to draw away his three brothers. Then Your Majesty, from midair, stretch down your cloud-grasping hand and seize the Tang monk. That will be as easy as reaching into a bag to take something out, or like pinching a fly in a basin of water—what difficulty is there?" When the old demon heard these words, his heart was filled with joy and he said, "This plan is utterly brilliant, utterly brilliant! If in this venture you do not capture the Tang monk, so be it; but if you do capture him, I will certainly not treat you lightly—I will appoint you as Vanguard of the Front Division." The little demon kowtowed in thanks for the favor, and ordered the demons to be mustered. Then all the great and small demons in the cave were called up, and indeed three capable little demons were selected; they all transformed into the old demon's likeness, each wielded an iron pestle, and lay in ambush, waiting for the Tang monk—but let us not speak of that further. Now the Tang elder, free of worry and care, followed Bajie onto the main road. After they had gone some distance, suddenly there was a crashing sound by the roadside, and a little demon leaped out, rushing forward to seize the elder. Sun Wukong called out, "Bajie, here comes an ogre—why not make a move?" The idiot, not distinguishing true from false, seized his muckrake and hurried forward to strike wildly. The ogre parried with his iron pestle and engaged him. The two of them were thus locked in combat at the foot of the slope, when again a sound came from the thick grass—another fiend leaped out and made straight for the Tang monk. Pilgrim Sun said, "Master, this is bad—Bajie's eyes are dull; he let that ogre come to seize you. Wait while Old Sun drives him off." He quickly drew his staff, rushed forward, and shouted, "Where are you going? Take this!" The ogre said not a word but raised his pestle to meet him. The two clashed and charged at the bottom of the grassy slope, and while they were evenly matched, another wind roared from behind the mountain, and yet another ogre leaped out, heading directly for the Tang monk. When Sha Seng saw this, he was greatly alarmed and said, "Master, Elder Brother and Second Brother have both lost their wits—they've let the ogres come to take you. Stay on your horse; let old Sha go catch him." This monk, without distinguishing good from bad, at once seized his staff, blocked the ogre's iron pestle face to face, and fought bitterly, shouting and yelling, in a confused clamor and struggle, gradually drawing him far away. The old monster, hovering in midair, saw the Tang monk sitting alone on his horse, reached down his five-clawed steel hook, and seized the Tang monk in one grasp. The master lost his horse, slipped from his stirrups, and was whisked away by the ogre in a gust of wind. How pitiful! This is indeed: When the nature of Chan meets demons, true attainment is imperiled; The River Float once more encounters a star of bitter calamity. The old demon lowered his wind and brought the Tang monk into the cave, calling, "Vanguard." The little demon who had devised the plan stepped forward and knelt, saying, "I dare not, I dare not." The old demon said, "Why say this? A great general's word once spoken is as fixed as white dyed upon black. At the time I said that if you did not capture the Tang monk, so be it; but if you captured him, I would appoint you Vanguard of the Front Division. Today you have indeed succeeded with your brilliant stratagem—how could I break faith with you? You may bring the Tang monk here, and have the underlings draw water and scrub the cauldron, gather firewood and light the fire, and steam him. I and you shall each eat a piece of his flesh, so as to prolong our lives and attain immortality." The Vanguard said, "Great King, you must not eat him yet." The old fiend said, "Since he has been captured, why can he not be eaten?" The Vanguard said, "It is of no great consequence if Your Majesty eats him—Zhu Bajie can be dealt with, and Sha Heshang can be dealt with—but I fear that Sun Wukong's master is exceedingly cruel. If he learns that we have eaten him, he will not come to fight us; he will merely take his Golden-Banded Staff and thrust it into the mountain's waist, making a hole, and topple the whole mountain over—we would have no place to shelter ourselves." The old fiend said, "Vanguard, what high opinion do you hold?" The Vanguard said, "According to my view, take the Tang monk to the rear garden, tie him to a tree, and do not give him food for two or three days: first, to make his insides clean; second, to wait until his three companions do not come looking at our gate—once we learn that they have gone back, we can bring him out and enjoy him at our leisure. Would that not be good?" The old fiend laughed and said, "Exactly, exactly. The Vanguard's words are reasonable." With a single command, the Tang monk was taken into the rear garden, bound with a rope to a tree, while all the lesser demons went to the front to await orders. Now see that elder, painfully enduring the coils of rope and bonds, tightly trussed and securely fastened, unable to stop the tears streaming down his cheeks, crying aloud, "Disciples, you are in the mountains subduing fiends, on what roads are you chasing ogres? I have been captured by these vile demons and am suffering calamity here—when shall we meet again? It wrings my heart!" While his tears flowed in streams, he saw someone on the opposite tree call out, "Elder, have you also come in?" The elder composed himself and said, "Who are you?" The man said, "I am a woodcutter from this mountain. I was captured by the mountain lord the day before yesterday, tied here, and now it has been three days—he plans to eat me." The elder shed tears and said, "Woodcutter, if you die, it is only your own person, with no entanglements—but I shall die not entirely cleanly." The woodcutter said, "Elder, you are one who has left the household—above, no parents; below, no wife or children. If you die, you die—what is unclean about it?" The elder said, "I am originally from the East Land, going to the Western Heaven to fetch scriptures. By the imperial decree of Emperor Taizong of the Great Tang, I am to pay homage to the Living Buddha and obtain the true scriptures, to deliver the orphaned souls in the underworld who have no lord. If I now lose my life, would I not disappoint that sovereign and betray those ministers? The countless wronged spirits in the City of the Wrongfully Dead would be utterly disheartened, never to be reborn for ages; a whole achievement of merit would be reduced to dust. How could this be clean?" When the woodcutter heard these words, tears fell from his eyes and he said, "Elder, your death is only thus, but my death is even more grievous. I lost my father when young, and have lived alone with my mother, with no family property, only depending on gathering firewood for a living. My old mother is now eighty-three years old, and I alone support her. If I perish, who will bury her and care for her in her old age? Bitter, oh bitter! It wrings my heart to death!" When the elder heard this, he burst into loud weeping and said, "Pitiful, pitiful! Even a mountain dweller has thoughts of family—how vain that this poor monk should know how to recite scriptures. Serving one's sovereign and serving one's parents are of the same principle: you for your parent's kindness, I for my sovereign's kindness." This is indeed: Tear-filled eyes gaze upon tear-filled eyes; Heartbroken men see off heartbroken men. Leaving aside for the moment the body of Tripitaka suffering hardship, now let us speak of Sun Wukong, who after fighting back the little demon at the grassy slope, hurried back to the roadside and found his master gone—only the white horse and the luggage remained. In panic he led the horse and shouldered the load, searching about the mountain. Ah! Truly: The River Float, destined for trials, meets trials; The Great Sage who subdues demons also encounters demons. If you do not know what became of the search for the master's whereabouts, listen to the explanation in the next chapter.