Chapter 28

Yet although that Great Sage had been driven away by Tang Monk, he still thought of him and sighed without end. Before long he saw the Eastern Ocean and said, “It has already been five hundred years since I last took this road!” He saw only the waters of that sea: Misty waves billowed vast, Giant waves rolled unhurriedly. Misty waves billowed vast, joining the River of Heaven; Giant waves rolled unhurriedly, reaching through the earth’s veins. The tide came surging violently, the waters flooding the winding coves. The tide came surging violently, like thunder roaring through the three spring months; The waters flooded the winding coves, like a wild wind blowing through the nine summer months. The old man blessed by the dragon, coming and going, must surely travel with furrowed brows; The immortal child astride a crane, going back and forth, indeed passes through anxiety. Near the shore there were no villages or settlements; beside the water there were few fishing boats. Waves rolled up snow a thousand years old; the wind arose with autumn in the sixth month. Wild fowl relied on appearing and disappearing; sand birds let themselves rise and sink. Before his eyes there was no angler; beside his ears he heard only gulls. Fish swimming beneath the sea delighted; geese passing at the edge of Heaven sorrowed. The Pilgrim then sprang up with his body and leaped across the Eastern Ocean, arriving soon at Flower-Fruit Mountain. He lowered his cloud and opened his eyes to look. On that mountain all the flowers and grasses were gone, and the mists and rosy clouds had utterly vanished; the peaks and crags had collapsed, and the forest trees had been scorched and withered. You may ask, how had it become like this? It was only because he had stirred up Heaven and been taken to the Upper Realm. This mountain had been burned and ruined by the Erlang Shen, leading the Seven Meishan Brothers. The Great Sage was all the more desolate. A classical air concerning the ruined mountain and fallen landscape bears witness. The ancient air says: Looking back at the immortal mountain, two tears fall; Facing the mountain, desolation wounds me more. At that time I thought the mountain unharmed; Today I realize at last that the earth itself has suffered loss. Hateful Erlang, you destroyed me; Infuriating Little Sage, you bullied others. You committed violence, digging up the tombs of my former spirits; For no cause, you broke the foundation of my ancestors’ graves. All the rosy mists and clouds filling Heaven have vanished and dispersed; The winds and clouds covering the earth have all scattered and grown sparse. On the eastern ridge no one hears the spotted tiger roar; On the western mountain, where can one see the white ape cry? In the northern ravine foxes and rabbits leave no trace; In the southern valley the muntjacs and wild deer have disappeared without a shadow. The blue stones burned into a thousand lumps of earth; The green sands transformed into a heap of mud. Outside the cave, all the lofty pines lean fallen; Before the cliff, all the emerald cypresses have grown scarce. The chinquapins, cedars, locusts, cypresses, chestnuts, and sandalwoods are scorched; The peaches, apricots, plums, cherries, pears, and dates are gone. With the paper mulberries cut off and the mulberries gone, how can silkworms be raised? With willows sparse and bamboo few, birds find it hard to roost. At the mountain tops, the ingenious rocks have turned to dust; At the bottoms of the ravines, the springs are dry and all is grass. Before the cliffs, the black earth has swallowed the orchids; Beside the roads, red mud is climbed by vines and ferns. To what place did the flying birds of former days fly? To what mountain did the beasts of that time flee? Leopards loathed the pythons, and all abandoned the fallen place; Cranes avoided snakes and turned back amid the ruin. It must be that evil thoughts were carried out in former days, Bringing such hardship upon me now. The Great Sage was just in the midst of his grief when he heard, before the Fragrant-Grass Slope, within the Manjing Hollow, a sound. Seven or eight little monkeys leaped out, rushed forward together, and surrounded him, knocking their heads to the ground. They cried loudly, “Great Sage Grandpa, have you come home today?” The Handsome Monkey-King said, “Why do you not play and frolic? Why has every one of you hidden your tracks and concealed your traces? I have been here for a long time, yet I have not seen a single one of you. Why is this?” Hearing him, the troop of monkeys each shed tears and reported, “Ever since the Great Sage was captured and taken to the Upper Realm, we have truly been unable to endure the suffering inflicted by hunters. How could we withstand their powerful crossbows and strong bows, their fierce eagles and vicious hounds, their nets, snares, spears, and hooks? Therefore each of us cherished his life and dared not come out to play. We merely hid deep within the caves and kept far away from the nests and lairs. When hungry, we went before the slopes to steal grass for food; when thirsty, we came below the ravines to drink the clear springs. Just now we heard the voice of Great Sage Grandpa and came especially to receive you. We humbly hope that you will support and protect us.” Hearing these words, the Great Sage grew still more desolate. He then asked, “How many of you remain on this mountain?” The troop of monkeys said, “Old and young, there are only about a thousand.” The Great Sage said, “At that time I had forty-seven thousand groups of demons in all. Where have they gone now?” The troop of monkeys said, “After Grandpa left, this mountain was set on fire by the Erlang Bodhisattva, and more than half were burned to death. We crouched in wells, burrowed into ravines, and hid beneath the Iron-Plate Bridge, thereby preserving our lives. When the fire was extinguished and the smoke had dispersed, there were no flowers or fruits left to feed us, and it was difficult to survive; half of the rest went elsewhere. Of our half, those enduring hardship remained in the mountain. During these two years, hunters also seized half of them.” The Pilgrim said, “What did they seize you for?” The troop of monkeys said, “These hunters are hateful, if one speaks of them! Those among us struck by arrows, pierced by spears, or beaten to death after being poisoned, they took away to skin and bone, cook in sauce, steam in vinegar, fry in oil, and stir-fry in salt, using us as food to accompany their meals. Some who fell into nets or encountered snares were taken alive, made to jump through hoops and perform tricks, turn somersaults, stand on their heads, and beat gongs and drums in the streets—there was no kind of frolic they did not make us perform.” Hearing this, the Great Sage grew even more furious and said, “Who is in charge within the cave?” The demon host said, “The two Marshals Ma and Liu, and the two Generals Beng and Ba, are still managing it.” The Great Sage said, “Go and tell them that I have come.” Those little demons rushed inside the gate and reported, “Great Sage Grandpa has come home.” Upon hearing the report, Ma, Liu, Beng, and Ba hurried out, knocked their heads to the ground, and welcomed him into the cave. The Great Sage sat in the middle, while the assembled monsters bowed around him and addressed him: “Great Sage Grandpa, we recently heard that you preserved your life and protected Tang Monk on his journey west to obtain the scriptures. Why did you not continue toward the West, but instead return to your native mountain?” The Great Sage said, “My little ones, you do not know. That Tang Sanzang cannot distinguish the worthy from the foolish. For his sake, all along the road I captured monsters and subdued demons, exhausting all the abilities of my lifetime, and several times I struck down fiends. He said that I practiced violence and evil, did not want me as a disciple, and drove me back here. He wrote and established a letter of banishment as proof, and would never again employ me.” The multitude of monkeys clapped their hands and laughed loudly, saying, “Good fortune, good fortune! Why be a monk? Come home and take us along to play for a few years.” They called, “Quickly arrange some coconut wine to welcome Grandpa!” The Great Sage said, “Do not drink wine yet. I ask you: when do those hunters come to our mountain?” Ma and Liu said, “Great Sage, no matter what time of day it is, they pester us here every day.” The Great Sage said, “Why have they not come today?” Ma and Liu said, “Wait and see—they are coming.” The Great Sage instructed, “My little ones, all of you go out and carry up the shattered stones burned brittle on the mountain, and pile them together for me. Make some piles of twenty or thirty stones, and some piles of fifty or sixty. I have a use for them.” Those little monkeys all swarmed out like a hive, each carrying and gathering many piles. When the Great Sage saw this, he ordered, “My little ones, all of you hide within the cave. Let this old Sun perform his magic.” The Great Sage went up to the mountain summit and looked out. He saw that on the southern half, drums were booming and gongs were clanging; more than a thousand men and horses appeared, all leading eagles and hounds and carrying swords and spears. The Monkey-King carefully observed how fierce the newcomers were. They were fine men, truly valiant. They were: Fox pelts covered their shoulders and crowns; brocades and silks wrapped their waists and chests. Wolf-fang arrows were thrust in their bags; treasured carved bows hung at their hips. The men were like tigers searching the mountain; the horses like dragons leaping ravines. In groups they led the hounds; across their arms they carried the eagles. They raised thorn baskets of firecrackers, carrying gyrfalcons with them. There were a hundred or more sticky poles, and a thousand rabbit forks. Ox-head road-blocking nets, Yama snare ropes. All together they shouted chaotically, scattering like stars across the whole sky. When the Great Sage saw those men spreading across his mountain, his heart filled with fury. He formed a hand seal and muttered words in his mouth, drew in a breath from the Xun direction, and blew it forth with a whoosh. At once it became a violent wind. What a wind! It was: Raising dust and scattering earth, overturning trees and breaking forests. Sea waves rose like mountains; turbid waters surged in ten thousand folds. Heaven and earth grew dim and vast; sun and moon darkened deeply. One moment it shook the pines like a tiger’s roar; Suddenly it entered the bamboo like a dragon’s cry. The ten thousand openings roared angrily with Heaven’s sighing breath; Flying sand and rushing stones struck people chaotically. The Great Sage raised this mighty wind, sending the shattered stones flying and dancing wildly upon it. Poor those more than thousand men and horses, each one: The stone struck Wutou and shattered it to pieces; the sand flew, and Haima was wounded as well. Renshen and Guigui hurried before the mountain ridge; blood stained the ground of cinnabar. Fuzi found it difficult to return to his old home; Binglang, how could he ever get back to his native land? The corpse of Qingfen lay upon the mountain ground, while Hong Niangzi waited longingly at home. The poem says: When men are dead and horses slain, how can they return home? Wild ghosts and lonely souls are scattered and tangled like hemp. Pitifully, the heroic generals, rousing themselves, Could not distinguish the worthy from the foolish; blood stained the sand. The Great Sage pressed down the cloud-head, clapped his hands, and laughed loudly, saying, “Creation, creation! Ever since I submitted to Tang Sanzang and became a monk, he has often admonished me, saying: ‘A thousand days of doing good are still not enough; a single day of doing evil is more than enough.’ Those words are indeed true. I followed him and beat several demons to death, yet he blamed me for committing violence. Today I have come home, and have instead finished off so many hunters.” He called out, “Little ones, come out!” That troop of monkeys rushed over like a gale. Hearing the Great Sage summon them, they all leaped out one after another. The Great Sage said, “Go down below the Southern Mountain and strip the clothes from the hunters who were beaten to death, then bring them home, wash away the bloodstains, and put them on to ward off the cold. Push all the dead bodies into that bottomless deep pool. Drag the dead horses here, strip off their hides to make boots, salt the flesh, and eat it little by little. Take those bows, arrows, spears, and swords for practicing your martial arts. Gather those various-colored banners for my use.” The troop of monkeys accepted his commands one by one. The Great Sage took down and washed the banners, then joined them all together into a single variegated flower-patterned banner. Upon it were written fourteen characters: “Rebuild Flower-Fruit Mountain, Restore Water-Curtain Cave, Great Sage Equaling Heaven.” He raised a pole and hung the banner outside the cave. Day after day he summoned demons and gathered beasts, amassed grass, and stored grain, never mentioning the two words “monk.” His popularity was great and his methods were lofty, so he went to borrow some sweet celestial rainwater from the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas and washed the mountain green. Elms and willows were planted in front, pines and nanmu behind; peaches, plums, jujubes, and plum trees—nothing was lacking. He lived freely and at ease, enjoying his work and dwelling peacefully; this need not be mentioned further. Now, Tang Sanzang, believing in the deceitful nature, let the mind-monkey go free, mounted the saddle, and rode off. Bajie opened the way in front, while Sha Seng carried the luggage and traveled westward. After passing White Tiger Ridge, they suddenly saw a stretch of wooded hills, truly a place where vines climbed and kudzu twined, where cypresses were green and pines verdant. Sanzang called out, “Disciple! The mountain road is rough and difficult to travel, and there are also dense clusters of pine woods, with trees standing thickly everywhere. You must be especially careful, for there may be demons or evil beasts.” Look at that Fool, who gathered his spirit and called to Sha Seng to lead the horse while he used his iron rake to open the road, guiding Tang Sanzang straight into the pine forest. Just as they were proceeding, the Elder reined in his horse and said, “Bajie, I am truly hungry today. Where can we find some vegetarian food for me to eat?” Bajie said, “Master, please dismount and wait here while this old pig goes to look for some.” The Elder dismounted, and Sha Seng set down the burden, took out the alms bowl, and handed it to Bajie. Bajie said, “I’m off.” The Elder asked, “Where are you going?” Bajie said, “Do not concern yourself. Once I go, I shall bore through ice and obtain fire, search for vegetarian food, press through snow and seek oil, and turn it into a meal to bring back.” He left the pine forest and traveled westward for more than ten li, without encountering a single household. Truly, it was a place with wolves and tigers but no trace of human habitation. The Fool walked with difficulty and pondered inwardly, “When the Pilgrim was here before, whatever the old monk wanted was available. Today it has fallen to me; truly, as the saying goes, ‘Only when managing a household does one learn the price of firewood and rice; only when raising a child does one understand the kindness of one’s parents.’ There is plainly nowhere to beg for food.” Then sleepiness came over him as he walked, and he thought, “If I return now and tell the old monk that there was nowhere to beg for vegetarian food, he will not believe that I walked so many li. I must delay for several more hours before going back to report. Very well, very well; I shall sleep for a while in this patch of grass.” The Fool thrust his head into the grass and lay down to sleep. At the time, he thought he would merely become drowsy for a moment and then get up, little knowing that a man wearied by walking, once he dropped his head, would snore away without restraint. Let us say no more of Bajie sleeping here. Now, Tang Sanzang, in that forest, felt his ears grow hot and his eyes twitch; his body and mind were uneasy. He hurriedly turned and called to Sha Seng, “Wuneng went to beg for vegetarian food. Why has he still not returned at this late hour?” Sha Seng said, “Master, you still do not understand. He sees that there are many households in the West who provide vegetarian meals to monks, and his belly is so large—how could he care about you? He will not come until he has eaten his fill.” Sanzang said, “That is just so. What if he is greedy for the vegetarian food there? How shall we find him? The sky is growing late, and this is not a place to stay. We must find somewhere to lodge.” Sha Seng said, “It is not a problem. Master, sit here for now while I go find him and bring him back.” Sanzang said, “Just so, just so. Whether there is vegetarian food or not is beside the point; finding a place to stay is what matters.” Sha Seng took up his precious staff and went straight out of the pine forest to look for Bajie. The Elder sat alone in the forest, exceedingly bored and weary. He could only force himself to gather his strength and leap up. He piled the luggage together in one place and tied the horse to a tree. He removed the broad hat from his head, set the tin staff upright, straightened his black monk’s robe, and walked slowly into the secluded forest, merely to dispel his boredom. The Elder looked over all the wild grasses and mountain flowers, but could not bear to hear the birds crying noisily as they returned to their nests. The forest was full of places where the grass was deep and the paths narrow. Because his thoughts were confused, he took a wrong turn. In the first place, he wished to dispel his boredom; in the second, he wished to look for Bajie and Sha Seng. Unexpectedly, the two of them had taken the straight western road, while the Elder, after wandering for a while, turned toward the south. When he emerged from the pine forest, he suddenly raised his head and saw golden light flashing over there, with multicolored vapors rising. Looking carefully, he found that it was a precious pagoda, its golden summit shining. It was the light of the setting sun in the west, reflecting upon the golden summit and making it gleam. He said, “My disciples and I truly have no affinity with good fortune. Ever since leaving the Eastern Land, I vowed that whenever I encountered a temple I would burn incense, whenever I saw a Buddha I would worship, and whenever I came upon a pagoda I would sweep it. Is that shining object not a golden pagoda? How is it that I never took that road? Beneath the pagoda there must be a monastery, and within the monastery there must be monks. Let me go and have a look. As for this luggage and the white horse, I expect no one passes through this place, so nothing will happen. If there is a convenient place there, I shall wait for my disciples to come, and together we will borrow it for a rest.” Alas! At that moment, the Elder’s ill fortune had arrived. Look at him striding forward until he reached the side of the pagoda. There he saw: The stone cliffs rise ten thousand zhang high; the great mountain reaches the blue heavens. Its roots join the earth’s deep foundation; its peaks pierce the lofty sky. On either side stand several thousand miscellaneous trees; before and behind, vines twine for more than a hundred li. Flowers reflect upon the tips of the grass, with the wind casting their shadows; water flows through cloud-clefts, while the moon has no root. Fallen trees lie across the deep ravines; withered vines knot and hang from the radiant peaks. Beneath the stone bridge, clear springs roll and tumble; upon the terrace stand bright white-powdered figures that burn forever. Seen from afar, it resembles the heavenly paradise of the Three Isles; viewed close by, it is like the surpassing realm of Penglai. Fragrant pines and purple bamboos encircle the mountain streams; crows, magpies, and gibbons pass through the steep ridges. Outside the cave gate, wild beasts come and go in lines; within the woods, flying birds enter and leave in flocks. Verdant fragrant grasses flourish; brilliant wild flowers bloom. This place was plainly an evil realm, and the Elder’s ill fortune had brought him here. The Elder stepped forward. Just as he reached beneath the pagoda gate, he saw a spotted-bamboo curtain hanging inside. He strode through the gate, lifted it, and entered. Then he suddenly raised his head and saw a demon lying on his side asleep upon a stone bed. What did it look like? An indigo-blue face, white fangs, and a great mouth gaping wide. On both sides, his sideburns were disorderly and bushy, yet all were dyed the color of rouge; three or four lofty purple whiskers seemed almost like lychee shoots arranged in rows. His parrot-beak-like nose thrust forward, and his eyes, like dawn stars, stared fixedly. His two fists resembled monks’ alms bowls; his two blue feet were like gnarled roots and branches on a cliff. Draped askew over him was a pale-yellow robe, surpassing even a brocade kasaya. The knife he carried gleamed with dazzling radiance; the stone he slept upon was fine and smooth, without a flaw. He had once arrayed little demons in an ant formation; he had once sat as an old monster in a bee court. Look at his imposing might: everyone shouted and hailed him as lord. He had once made the moon his third companion and drunk wine from a pot; he had once summoned wind beneath both armpits and poured tea from a cup. Look at his vast supernatural powers: with a blink and a lowering of his eyes, he could roam to the ends of the earth. In desolate forests, birds and sparrows clamored; in deep thickets, dragons and serpents slept. Immortal maidens tilled fields where white jade grew; Daoists subdued fire and nurtured cinnabar. The little cave gate, though it could not reach that Avīci Hell; the stiff, fierce monster within was nevertheless a single bull-headed yaksha. When the Elder saw him in such a form, he was so frightened that he stumbled backward. His whole body went numb, and both legs grew sore and weak; he hurriedly turned to leave. He had just turned around when that demon’s spiritual acuity proved truly keen. He opened wide a pair of golden-eyed ghost eyes and called out, “Little ones, look—what sort of person is outside the gate?” A little demon stuck out his head to look outside. Seeing a bald-headed Elder, he hurried in and reported, “Great King, there is a monk outside. A round head and broad face, with ears hanging to his shoulders; tenderly smooth flesh over his whole body, and a fine, delicate skin: he is indeed a handsome monk.” Hearing this, the demon laughed loudly and said, “This is what they call, ‘Flies upon a snake’s head—food and clothing come of themselves.’ You little ones, hurry after him and bring him to me; I have generous rewards here.” Those little demons swarmed out like a hive of bees and crowded forward together. When Sanzang saw them, although his single mind was as hurried as an arrow and his two feet moved as swiftly as flying, in the end his heart trembled with fear and his legs and feet grew weak and numb. Besides, the mountain road was rugged, the forest deep and the sun already setting; how could he move his feet? The little demons carried him away, holding him level. Just so: When the dragon swims in shallow water, it suffers the shrimp’s sport; When the tiger falls upon the plain, it is bullied by dogs. Though good endeavors meet many hindrances, Who is like Tang Monk when traveling westward? Look at those many little demons carrying the Elder. They set him down outside the bamboo curtain and happily reported, “Great King, we have brought the monk in.” The old demon also stole a glance at him. He saw only that Sanzang’s head stood upright and his appearance was dignified; indeed, he was a fine monk. He then thought to himself, “Such a fine monk must surely be a person of high station, not an ordinary little fellow. If I do not display some authority, how will he submit?” Suddenly, borrowing the tiger’s might like a fox, he thrust up his red beard, raised his bloody hair toward heaven, bulged his eyes, and shouted, “Bring that monk in!” All the demons loudly answered, “Yes!” and shoved Sanzang straight inside. This was a case of, “Since one is beneath a low eave, how dare one not lower one’s head?” Sanzang could only put his palms together and offer him a greeting. The demon said, “What place are you a monk from? Where did you come from? Where are you going? Quickly explain!” Sanzang said, “I am originally a monk of the Tang dynasty. By imperial command of the Great Tang Emperor, I am traveling to the Western regions to seek scriptures and verses. Passing through your honored mountain, I have specially come beneath the pagoda to pay my respects to the Holy One. I did not expect to disturb your majesty; I beg that you forgive my offense. Once I go to the Western regions, obtain the scriptures, and return to the Eastern Land, your lofty name will be recorded forever.” Hearing this, the demon laughed heartily and said, “I said you were a person of a superior state, and indeed you are. I was just wanting to eat you, and you have come at an excellent time—an excellent time indeed. Otherwise, would I not have mistakenly let you pass? You are food for my mouth; naturally you have come knocking. I could not release you if I wished, nor could you escape if you tried!” He called to the little demons, “Take that monk away and bind him.” Sure enough, those little demons rushed forward together, wrapped the Elder in ropes and cords, and bound him to the Soul-Fixing Stake. The old demon held his knife and asked again, “Monk, how many are in your party? Surely you would not dare go to the Western Heaven alone?” Seeing him holding a knife, Sanzang answered honestly, “Great King, I have two disciples, called Zhu Bajie and Sha Monk. They have both gone out into the pine forest to seek alms. There is also a load of baggage and a white horse; they have all been left in the pine forest.” The old demon said, “What good fortune! Two disciples, you make three, and with the horse there are four—enough for one meal.” A little demon said, “We shall go capture them.” The old demon said, “Do not go outside. Close the front gate. When the two of them return from seeking alms, they will certainly look for their master to eat; if they cannot find him, they will certainly come looking at my gate. As the saying goes, ‘Business that comes to one’s door is easy to conduct.’ Let us wait and capture them at leisure.” All the little demons shut the front gate. But let us say no more of Sanzang’s misfortune. Sha Monk went out of the forest to look for Bajie and traveled a good ten or more li without seeing a single village. He stood on a high mound and was just looking around when he heard someone speaking in the grass. He quickly used his staff to part the deep grass and look. It turned out that the Fool was inside, talking in his sleep. Sha Monk seized him by the ear, and only then did he awaken. He said, “You good-for-nothing Fool! Did the master tell you to seek alms and permit you to sleep here?” The Fool awoke in a daze and said, “Brother, what time is it?” Sha Monk said, “Get up quickly. The master said that whether there were alms or not, it was all right, and told you and me to find a place to stay.” The Fool, muddleheaded and ignorant, carried his alms bowl and clasped his iron rake as he returned directly with Sha Monk. When they reached the forest and looked, the master was nowhere to be seen. Sha Monk grumbled, “It is all because you, Fool, failed to seek alms. A demon must have taken the master.” Bajie laughed and said, “Brother, do not talk nonsense. That forest is a clear and elegant place; surely there are no demons. Perhaps the old monk could not sit still and went somewhere to observe the surroundings. Let us go look for him.” The two had no choice but to lead the horse and shoulder the load, gather up the cloak and Buddhist staff, and leave the pine forest to search for the master. This time, Tang Monk was also not meant to die. The two of them searched for a while without finding him, when suddenly they saw golden light flashing to the due south. Bajie said, “Brother, the fortunate are simply fortunate. Look—the master has gone to that household. The thing giving off light is a precious pagoda; who would dare neglect him? They must surely arrange an alms meal and keep him there to enjoy it. If we do not get moving and catch up, we will not get to eat some of that alms food.” Sha Monk said, “Brother, we cannot determine whether it is auspicious or ominous. Let us go and take a look.” The two came swaggering to the gate: “Ah! It is shut.” They saw that a white jade stone slab had been set crosswise above the gate, engraved with six large characters: “Wave-Moon Cave of Bowl Mountain.” Sha Seng said, “Brother, this is no monastery, but the cave dwelling of a demon. Even if my master is here, he cannot be seen.” Bajie said, “Brother, do not be afraid. You just tether the horses and guard the luggage. Let me ask for news of him.” The Idiot raised his rake and went forward, shouting loudly, “Open the gate! Open the gate!” Within the cave, a little demon in charge of the gate opened it. The moment he saw the appearance of the two men, he hurriedly drew back and ran inside to report: “Great King, business has arrived.” The old demon said, “What business?” The little demon said, “Outside the cave gate there is a long-mouthed, big-eared monk together with a monk of an unlucky complexion, calling at the gate.” The old demon was overjoyed. “It is Zhu Bajie and Sha Seng who have searched their way here. Ah, they know how to search as well—how have they managed to search right to my gate? Since their faces and mouths are fierce and unruly, do not be negligent in receiving them.” He called, “Bring my armor.” The little demons carried it over, and he put it on, taking a saber in hand, then went straight out the gate. Now, Bajie and Sha Seng were waiting before the gate when they saw the demon come forth in a fearsome manner. You ask how he was dressed: His blue face, red beard, and scarlet hair streamed in the wind; His golden armor gleamed with abundant radiance. A belly-guard girded his waist with a jade-studded belt; A breast-clasp and armor were bound with cloud-treading cords. Idly he stood before the mountain while the wind roared and roared; Restlessly he roamed beyond the sea while the waves surged and surged. A pair of hands, blue-indigo and sinewed hard, Gripped fast a saber that chased souls and took lives. If you would know this creature’s name and surname, His voice proclaimed the two characters: Huangpao. The Yellow-Robed Old Monster came out of the gate and asked, “What sort of monk are you, shouting at my gate?” Bajie said, “My son, do you not recognize me? I am your grandfather. I am the one dispatched by the Great Tang to go to the Western Heaven. My master is that Imperial Younger Brother, Sanzang. If he is inside your household, send him out at once, and you will spare me from ramming my rake in there.” The monster laughed and said, “Yes, yes, yes, there is a Tang Monk in my home. I have not been negligent toward him, either; I have arranged some buns made of human flesh for him to eat. Why do you not also come in and eat one?” The Idiot took him seriously and was about to go inside. Sha Seng seized him and said, “Brother, he is fooling you. Since when have you eaten human flesh?” Only then did the Idiot realize the truth. He drew his nine-toothed rake and smashed it straight at the monster’s face. The monster turned aside and dodged it, then urgently raised his steel saber to meet the blow. The two each displayed their divine powers, leapt upon the heads of clouds, and sprang into the air to fight. Sha Seng cast aside the luggage and white horse, raised his precious staff, and hurried to join the attack. At this moment there were two fierce monks and one savage demon in the clouds above—what a battle it was! It was just as the poem says: The staff rose and the saber met it; the rake came and the saber warded it. One demon general displayed his might; two divine monks manifested their transformations. The nine-toothed rake was truly heroic; the demon-subduing staff was indeed fierce. They came together from front and back, left and right, yet Huangpao openly feared nothing. Look at him: his quenched-steel saber flashed bright as silver; In truth, his divine powers were vast as well. They fought until the whole sky was wrapped in mist and obscured by clouds, While halfway up the mountain cliffs collapsed and ridges split apart. One fought for his reputation—how could he consent to stop? The other fought for his master—he absolutely did not fear. The three of them came and went through the air above, fighting for several dozen bouts without deciding victory or defeat. Since each regarded his life as important, in truth they were difficult to separate. As for how Tang Sanzang was to be rescued, one must listen to the explanation in the next chapter.