We were telling you about that Pilgrim Sun, who, arousing his divine might and gripping his iron rod, trod on the auspicious luminosity to rise into the air. Facing the fiend, he shouted, “Where did you come from, perverse demon? Where do you think you’re going to perpetrate your lawlessness?” The fiendish creature replied in a loud voice, “I am none other than the vanguard under the command of the Great King Jupiter’s Rival, the master of the Cave of Mythic Beast at Unicorn Mountain. By the order of the great king, I have come here to fetch two palace maidens for the service of Lady Golden Sage. Who are you that you dare question me?” “I’m Sun Wukong, the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven,” said Pilgrim. “I am passing through this kingdom because I am giving protection to the Tang Monk from the Land of the East, who is on his way to worship Buddha in the Western Heaven. When I learned how you bunch of perverse demons were making a mockery of the ruler here, I resolved to exercise my talents to heal the state and drive out the bogies. I was just wondering where to look for you when you arrived to give up your life.”
Though he heard these words, that fiend did not know any better than to pick up the lance to stab at Pilgrim. Pilgrim met him head-on with upraised iron rod, and a marvelous battle began in midair.
The rod’s a dragon hall’s sea-ruling treasure;
The lance is but iron refined by man.
How could mortal arms compare with one divine,
A tiny stroke of which would dispel your soul?
The Great Sage is first a Great Monad god;
The monster’s only a demon accursed.
How could a ghost approach a righteous man?
One righteous mite would smite all things perverse.
That one uses wind and sprays dirt to scare the king;
This one treads the fog and clouds to hide the sun and moon.
They assume fighting postures to try to win.
Which weakling would dare claim a hero’s name?
In the end the Great Sage’s the stronger man:
Pingpang cracks the rod and the lance does snap.
As his lance was broken in two by one blow of Pilgrim’s iron rod, the terrified monster-spirit changed the direction of his wind and fled for his life toward the west.
Deciding not to give chase for the moment, Pilgrim dropped from the clouds and went up to the Fiend Shelter. “Master,” he cried, “please ask His Majesty to come out. The fiendish creature’s gone.” The Tang Monk used his hands to support the king as both of them climbed out of the hole. The entire sky had cleared up and there was not the slightest appearance of a fiend anywhere. The king walked up to one of the banquet tables, picked up the wine pot himself, and filled a golden goblet to present to Pilgrim, saying, “Divine monk, just a little thanks!” The Pilgrim took the goblet in his hand, but before he could make his reply, an official rushed in from outside the court to say, “There’s a fire at the west gate of the capital!”
On hearing this, Pilgrim flung the wine-filled goblet into the air. When it fell with a clang to the ground, the startled king bowed quickly and said, “Divine monk, please forgive me! Please forgive me! It was indeed our fault! Proper etiquette requires that you ascend the main hall to receive our thanks. It was because the wine was placed conveniently here that I presented it to you. You threw the cup away. Are you offended?” “No! No!” replied Pilgrim, laughing. “You have got it all wrong!”
Just as they were speaking, another official came in to report: “What a marvelous rain! Just now a fire broke out at the west gate, but a great shower extinguished it. The streets are filled with water that smells like wine!” “Your Majesty,” said Pilgrim, still laughing, “when you saw me throwing away the cup, you thought I was offended. But actually, I was not. That fiend fled toward the west in defeat; because I did not give chase, he started a fire. That goblet of wine was what I used to extinguish the fiendish fire and save the families located in the western part of the capital. That was all!”
More than ever filled with delight and respect, the king invited Tripitaka and his three disciples to return to the treasure hall, where he was ready to abdicate his throne and hand it over to the priests. “Your Majesty,” said Pilgrim, smiling, “that monster-spirit just now claimed that he was a vanguard in the command of Jupiter’s Rival, sent here to demand two more palace maidens. Since he was defeated, he would certainly flee to his master to report, and his master would certainly want to come strive with me. I fear that when he brings his troops here, it will be difficult to prevent them from frightening the populace and alarming Your Majesty. I’d like to meet him in midair instead and capture him right there, but I don’t know which is the proper direction. What’s the distance between here and his mountain cave?”
The king said, “We did send some military scouts to go there once to make investigation. The round trip took some fifty days, as the cave was about three thousand miles due south of here.” On hearing this, Pilgrim said, “Eight Rules, Sha Monk, stand guard here. Old Monkey will make a trip there.” Tugging at him, the king said, “Divine monk, please wait for another day. Let us prepare some dried and baked goods for you, give you some travel money, and select a speedy horse for you. Then you may go.” With a laugh, Pilgrim said, “What you are referring to, Your Majesty, is the laborious way of scaling mountains and peaks by those who must stay on their feet. To tell you the truth, old Monkey can traverse these three thousand miles and be back here before the wine poured out turns cold in the goblet.” “Divine monk,” said the king, “don’t be offended by what we have to say, but your estimable countenance resembles that of an ape. How could you possess such magic power to move so quickly?” Pilgrim replied,
Though I’m numbered among the simian kind,
I’ve cut since my youth a path through birth and death.
I’ve sought tutors far to teach me the Way;
For countless days I’ve trained1 before the mount.
With Earth as oven and Heaven its top,
Two kinds of drug whirled round the hare and crow.2
I picked yin and yang, mating water and fire;
In time I broke through the mysterious pass.3
I relied on the stars’ transportive power,4
And on the Dipper for moving my steps.
Most punctual to boost or reduce the fire,
I watched to add quicksilver or pull out lead.
Five Phases conjoined, creation began.
Four images5 well mixed and times were fixed.
With Two Breaths returned to the Yellow Way,6
Three Parties7 met on the Gold Elixir road.
These laws, all realized, now move my four limbs;
My somersault works like I’m helped by gods.
One skip will land me beyond Mount Taihang;8
One flip sends me past Cloud-Transcending Stream.9
Who would fear ten thousand folds of tall peak,
Or long wide rivers by hundreds and scores?
My transformation no hurdle can block:
One leap, a hundred and eight thousand miles!
Both astonished and delighted by this recital of Pilgrim’s, the king took a goblet of imperial wine and, smiling broadly, presented it to Pilgrim, saying, “Divine monk, you have to travel far. Take this to prepare for your journey.” As our Great Sage was intent on leaving to subdue the fiend, how could he care about drinking wine anymore? All he could say was, “Please put it down. Let me drink it after I return.” Dear Pilgrim! He said he was leaving, and with a whistle, he vanished from sight. We shall leave those astonished ruler and subjects for the moment.
We tell you now about our Pilgrim, who leaped into the air and soon discovered a mountain rearing up at the edge of the fog. He lowered his cloud immediately and stood on the peak to survey the region. Marvelous mountain!
It rushes the sky and overruns the earth;
It blots out the sun and begets the clouds.
Where it rushes the sky,
Pointed peaks rise erect.
Where it overruns the earth,
Wide ranges spread unending.
What blots out the sun
Are fresh thick pines of the summit.
What begets the clouds
Are sharp, jagged rocks beneath the cliff.
Fresh thick pines
Remain ever green in all four seasons;
Sharp jagged rocks
Stay unchanged in ten thousand years.
You’ll hear now and then apes wailing in the woods,
And often monstrous serpents passing through the brook;
Screeches of mountain fowl;
Grunts and growls of mountain beasts.
Mountain deer and antelope
Dash about here and there in pairs and twos;
Mountain crows and magpies
In flocks and tight formations soar and fly.
The endless sight of mountain flowers and grass;
The timely glow of mountain peaches and fruits.
Though it’s too treacherous a passageway,
It’s a bogus immortal’s reclusive spot.
Thoroughly delighted by this scenery, our Great Sage was just about to search for the entrance of the cave when all at once he saw a roaring fire leaping up from the fold of the mountain. In an instant the sky was filled with red flames, in the midst of which there arose also a nasty column of smoke, more vicious than even the fire. Marvelous smoke! He saw
A flare shining like ten thousand gold lamps;
And fumes leaping like a thousand red rainbows.
The smoke was no oven’s or stove’s,
Nor that of grass and wood.
That smoke had five colors:
Green, red, white, black, and yellow.
It scorched the pillars of the South Heavenly Gate;
It seared the beams of the Divine Mists Hall.
It burned till the beasts in their lairs rotted with their skins,
And feathers on the forest fowl all dissolved.
When one saw such venomous smoke, how then
Could one enter the mount to tame the fiend king?
As the Great Sage stared at this in astonishment, a sandstorm also erupted from within the mountain. Marvelous sand, truly concealing Heaven and blanketing Earth! Look at that
Great, whirling shower spreading through the sky;
The huge, blinding mass all over the earth;
The fine dust dimming one’s sight every where;
Thick ashes rolling downhill like sesame.
The herb-picking lad has his partner lost;
The working woodsman cannot find his house.
Though your hands may hold a luminous pearl.
You will soon reel under this blowing sand.
Spellbound by what he saw, Pilgrim did not notice that some sand and dust flew into his nose until the itch made him sneeze a couple of times. He turned and picked up from beneath the ledge two small pebbles, which he used to stop up his nostrils. Shaking his body once, he changed into a sparrowhawk able to penetrate fire. He flew right into the smoke and flame, but all of a sudden, the sand and dust vanished, and even the smoke and fire subsided. Quickly he changed back into his true form and dropped down from the air. As he looked about, there came to his ears the loud clanging of a brass gong. “I must have taken the wrong road!” he thought to himself. “This can’t be where the monsterspirit lives. The gong sounds like one of those belonging to a postal soldier. This must be a state highway, and some postal soldier is on his way to deliver a document. Let old Monkey go and question him a bit.”
As he walked along, he saw a little fiend with a yellow banner on his shoulder and an official document bag on his back. Banging aloud the gong, the fiend was running swiftly toward him. “So this is the fellow who’s beating the gong!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “I wonder what sort of document he’s carrying. Let me eavesdrop on him.”
Dear Great Sage! With a shake of his body he changed into a midge and gently alighted on the fiend’s document bag. All he heard was the monster-spirit banging the gong and mumbling to himself, “Our great king is quite vicious! Three years ago he abducted the Golden Sage Queen from the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom, but he didn’t have the affinity even to touch her. Only those palace maidens brought here as substitutes were the ones who suffered. Two of them came, and they were driven to death; then four arrived, and they, too, were driven to death. Year before last, he wanted the maidens; last year, he wanted more; this year, he wanted more; and even now, he still wants some more. But he has run into an adversary, for that vanguard sent to make demands for the palace maidens has been defeated by some Pilgrim Sun. Angered by this, our great king wanted to go into war with that kingdom and asked me to send them some declaration of war. Once I deliver this document, that king had better decide not to fight, for any war would only go against him. When our great king uses his smoke, fire, and flying sand, none of them, the king and his subjects, can ever hope to remain alive. We will certainly occupy their city; our great king will become emperor and we will become his officials. High or low, we will have some appointments or ranks, but I fear that our action would be intolerable to Heaven.”
When Pilgrim heard this, he was secretly delighted. “Even a monster-spirit,” he thought to himself, “can have good intentions. Just listen to what he has said about how their ‘action would be intolerable to Heaven.’ Isn’t he a good man? But concerning the Golden Sage Queen, I don’t quite understand what he means by the fiend king not having affinity to touch her body. Let me question him a bit.” With a buzz, he flew away from the monster-spirit and darted ahead for several miles. A shake of his body changed him into a little Daoist lad:
His head had two tufts of hair;
He wore a patched cleric robe.
Tapping a wooden-fish drum,
A Daoist hymn he hummed.
Rounding the mountain slope, he met the little fiend and saluted him with hand upraised, saying, “Officer, where are you going? What’s the document you are delivering?” Behaving as if he knew his interrogator, the fiendish creature stopped his gong and, giggling loudly, returned the greeting. “Our great king,” said he, “has sent me to deliver a declaration of war to the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom.” “Has that someone from the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom,” continued Pilgrim, “mated with the great king?”
“Almost immediately after she had been abducted,” replied the little fiend, “an immortal presented to her as a gift a five-colored divine robe. Once she had put it on, however, needlelike prickles sprouted all over her body. Our great king didn’t even dare to give her the slightest touch, for the merest contact would inflict terrific pain on his hand. We don’t know how those prickles grew, but that’s the reason for his not claiming her body from the beginning until now. Earlier this morning, he sent his vanguard to demand two palace maidens for his service, but the vanguard was defeated by one so-called Pilgrim Sun. Our great king was angered, and that was why he sent me to deliver a declaration of war. He is going to do battle with him tomorrow.” “Is the great king still angry?” asked Pilgrim. “Indeed he is,” replied the little fiend. “You should go cheer him up with a Daoist song or two.”
Dear Pilgrim! After a bow with hands folded, he turned and walked away, while the fiend struck up his gong and journeyed as before. Unleashing his violence all at once, Pilgrim whipped out his rod, turned around again, and delivered a blow on the back of the little fiend’s head. Alas! This one blow made
The head shatter, the blood flow, the brains burst out;
The skin rift, the neck split, and his life expire.
As he put away the rod, he was smitten with regret, saying to himself, “I’m a little too impatient! I hadn’t even asked his name. Oh, all right!” He took down the declaration of war document to put in his own sleeve; the yellow banner and the brass gong were stuffed into the grass by the road. As he picked up the fiend by the legs and was about to throw him into the brook, a gold-plated nameplate dropped down from his waist with a clang. On the plate was the following inscription:
One trusted junior officer by the name of Going and Coming:
rather short, pimply face, beardless. To be worn at all times.
The person without this plate is an imposter.
“So this fellow has the name of Going and Coming,” chuckled Pilgrim, “but my rod has rendered him Going without Coming.” He took down the nameplate and attached it to his waist. He was about to throw away the corpse when the thought of the threat of smoke and fire stopped him from searching further for the cave-dwelling. Raising his rod instead, he punched it through the chest of the little fiend, toted the corpse to rise to the air, and went back to the kingdom to annouce his first merit. Look at him! Thinking and wondering to himself, he soon arrived at the capital.
Before the Hall of Golden Chimes, our Eight Rules was standing guard over the king and his master, when all of a sudden he saw Pilgrim approaching in midair and toting a monster-spirit. “Ah, this fribble business!” he muttered to himself. “If I had known it earlier, old Hog would have gone to arrest the fiend. That would have been counted as my merit, wouldn’t it?” Hardly had he finished speaking when Pilgrim lowered his cloud and threw the monster-spirit before the steps. Dashing up to the corpse, Eight Rules gave him a blow with his rake, crying, “This is the merit of old Hog!”
“What merit of yours is that?” asked Pilgrim. “Don’t cheat me out of it!” replied Eight Rules. “I have evidence here. Aren’t those nine holes made by the rake?” “Take another look,” said Pilgrim, “and see if he has a head or not.” “So, he’s headless!” said Eight Rules, chuckling. “I was wondering why he didn’t move at all when I struck him with my rake.”
“Where’s Master?” asked Pilgrim, and Eight Rules said, “Talking with the king in the hall.” “Go and ask him to come out,” said Pilgrim.
Eight Rules ran up to the hall and nodded his head, whereupon Tripitaka rose and descended the hall to meet Pilgrim. Pilgrim took out the declaration of war and stuffed it into the sleeve of Tripitaka, saying, “Put it away, Master, and don’t let the king see this.”
As they were speaking, the king also came down the hall and met Pilgrim. “Divine monk, you’ve returned,” he said. “How did the matter of arresting the fiend go?” Pointing with his finger, Pilgrim said, “Isn’t that a monster-spirit who has been slain by old Monkey?” The king took one look and said, “It is the corpse of a fiend, but he’s no Jupiter’s Rival, whom we have seen twice with our own eyes. The archfiend is eighteen feet tall, and his shoulders are five times as wide as other men’s. His face resembles a golden beam, and his voice is like thunder. He is no vulgar-looking midget like this one.”
Smiling, Pilgrim said, “Your Majesty, you are perceptive, for this is indeed no Jupiter’s Rival, but only a little fiend serving as a messenger, who ran into old Monkey. I slew him and toted him back to announce my merit.” “Fine! Fine! Fine!” said the king, highly pleased. “This should be considered your first merit. We have often sent our people out there to gather intelligence, but we have never managed to turn up anything substantial. The moment the divine monk goes forth, he’s able to bring back a captive. That’s true magic power!” Then he called out, “Warm up the wine, so that we may congratulate the elder for his merit.”
“Drinking wine is a trivial matter,” said Pilgrim. “Let me ask your Majesty, did the Golden Sage Palace leave you any memento when she departed? If she did, give it to me.” When the king heard him mention the word, “memento,” he felt as if a sword had run his heart through and he wept aloud, saying,
When we toasted brightness and warmth that year,
The vicious Jupiter uttered his cries.
He took by force our queen to be his wife;
We yielded her up for the people’s sake.
There were no words of greeting or farewell,
No tender partings by the wayside stands.10
Mementos, scented purse—every thing is gone,
Except myself, all bitter and forlorn.
“Your Majesty,” said Pilgrim, “your pain is near its end. Why torture yourself like that? If our lady did not leave you any memento, are there objects in the palace that she is most fond of? Give me one of these.” “Why do you want them?” asked the king. Pilgrim said, “That fiend king does have magic powers. When I saw the smoke, the fire, and the sand he released, I knew it would be difficult to bring him to submission. Even if I were to succeed, I fear that our lady would refuse to accompany me, a stranger, to return to the kingdom. She will trust me only if she sees me entrusted with some object most dear to her when she was in the palace. That’s why I must take such an object along with me.”
“In the dressing alcove,” said the king, “at the Palace of the Bright Sun, there is a pair of gold bracelets, originally worn by our Golden Sage Palace. Because that day was the festival when she had to tie five colored threads to her arms, she took off the bracelets. As these were some of her favorite things, they are still kept in a jewel box. Because of the way we were separated, however, we could not bear the sight of these bracelets, for they reminded us so much of her lovely face. The moment we see them, we would be sicker than ever.” “Let’s not talk about illness anymore,” said Pilgrim. “Bring me the bracelets. If you can part with them, give them to me. If not, I’ll just take one of them.”
The king asked the Jade Sage Palace to take them out. When the king saw the bracelets, he cried several times, “Dearest, dearest Lady,” before handing them over to Pilgrim. After Pilgrim took them, he put them on his arm.
Dear Great Sage! He refused the wine of merit and mounted the cloud somersault instead. With a whistle he arrived once more at the Unicorn Mountain. Too preoccupied to enjoy the scenery, he at once began searching for the cave. As he walked along, he heard the raucous noise of people speaking. When he stood still to look more carefully, he found soldiers posted at the entrance of the Cave of Mythic Beast, some five hundred of them,
All tightly lined up,
And densely arrayed.
Tightly lined up, they held spears and swords
Which gleamed in the sun;
Densely arrayed, they unfurled the banners
Which fluttered in the wind.
Tiger generals, bear captains, all able to change;
Leopard warriors, striped-cat marshals, most spirited.
Grey wolves, how savage!
Brown elephants, still more potent!
Sly hare, clever deer, wielding halberds and swords;
Long snakes, huge serpents, hung with sabers and bows.
The chimpanzee who understands human speech
Leads the troops, secures the camp as one informed.
When Pilgrim saw them, he dared not proceed; instead, he turned and walked back out the way he came. Why did he turn back, you ask? It was not because he was afraid of them. Actually, he returned to the spot where he had slain the little fiend and found again that brass gong and that yellow banner.
Facing the wind, he made the magic sign;
Thinking the image, he went into motion.
With one shake of his body, he changed himself into the form of Going and Coming. Banging loud his gong, he stepped forward in great strides and marched right up to the Cave of the Mythic Beast. Just as he was looking over the cave, he heard the chimpanzee say, “Going and Coming, are you back?” Pilgrim had no alternative but to reply, “I’m back.” “Get inside quickly!” said the chimpanzee. “The great king is waiting for your reply at the Skinning Pavilion.” On hearing this, Pilgrim strode inside the front door, still beating his gong. Once inside, he saw hanging cliffs and precipitous walls, rock chambers and quiet rooms. There were exotic grasses and flowers on the left and right, and there were plenty of old cedars and aged pines front and back.
Soon he walked through the second-level door, where he saw an octagonal pavilion with eight translucent windows. In the middle of the pavilion was a gold inlaid armchair, on which was seated solemnly a demon king. Truly he had a savage appearance! You see
Colored nimbus soaring up from his head
And violent air bursting forth from his chest.
Pointed teeth protrude like rows of sharp swords;
His temple’s tousled locks flare like red fume.
Whiskers like arrows stick onto his lips;
Hairs wrap his body like blanket layers.
Mocking Jupiter are two copper-bell eyes;
An iron club he holds looks tall as the sky.
Though Pilgrim saw him, he was bold enough to make light of the monsterspirit. Without in the least affecting good manners, Pilgrim turned his back on him and kept beating the gong. “Have you returned?” asked the fiend king, but Pilgrim did not answer him. “Going and Coming, have you returned?” he asked again, and still Pilgrim did not answer him. The fiend king walked up to him and tugged at Pilgrim, saying, “Why are you still beating the gong after you have come home? I ask you a question, and you don’t answer me. Why?”
Dashing the gong to the ground, Pilgrim cried, “What’s this ‘Why, Why, Why’? I told you I didn’t want to go, and you insisted that I should. When I got there, I saw countless men and horses already arrayed in battle formations. The moment they saw me, they cried, ‘Seize the monster-spirit! Seize the monsterspirit!’ Pushing and shoving, they hauled me bodily into the city to see the king, who at once ordered me executed. It was fortunate that counselors from both rows of ministers invoked the old maxim that ‘When two states are at war, the envoys are never executed.’ They spared me and took away the declaration of war. Then they sent me out of the city, where before the entire army they caned me thirty times on my legs. I was released to tell you that they would be here soon to do battle with you.”
“As you have put the matter,” said the fiend king, “you have lucked out! No wonder you didn’t answer me when I questioned you.” Pilgrim said, “I was silent not because of anything. It’s just that I was nursing my pain, and that’s why I didn’t reply.”
“How many horses and men do they have?” asked the fiend king one more time. Pilgrim said, “I was scared silly, and I was further intimidated by their beatings. You think I would be able to account for the number of their horses and men? All I saw in thick rows were
Bows, arrows, sabers, mail, and armor;
Lances, swords, halberds, and tasseled banners;
Poleaxes, crescent spades, and head-coverings;
Huge axes, round shields, and iron caltrops;
Long battle staffs;
Short, fat cudgels;
Steel tridents and petards and helmets, too.
To be worn are tall boots, head gear, and quilted vests.
Crops and whips, sleeve-pellets, and bronze mallets.”11
When the fiendish king heard this, he laughed and said, “That’s nothing! That’s nothing! A little fire and all such weapons will be wiped out. You should go now and tell our Lady Golden Sage not to worry. When she heard that I was growing angry and about to go into battle, she was already full of tears. Why don’t you go now and tell her that the men and horses of her country are most fearsome and that they will certainly prevail against me. That ought to give her some relief for awhile.”
On hearing this, Pilgrim was very pleased, saying to himself, “Old Monkey can’t ask for anything better!” Look at him! He seems to be peculiarly familiar with the way! Rounding a small side door, he passed through halls and chambers. Deep inside the cave, you see, were all tall buildings and edifices, quite unlike what was in front. When he reached the rear palace where the Lady Golden Sage lived, he saw brilliantly colored doors. Walking through these to look around, he found two choirs of fiendish vixen and deer, all made up to appear as beautiful maidens standing on the left and right. In the middle was seated the lady, who held her chin in her hand as tears fell from her eyes. Indeed she had
Soft, youthful features,
Seductive good looks.
Too lazy to do her hair,
She left it piled up loosely;
Loathful of make-up,
She wore neither pins nor bracelets.
Her face had no powder,
She being scornful of rouge.
Her hair had no oil,
For she kept unkempt her tresses.
Her cherry lips pouted
As she clenched her silvery teeth;
Her moth brows knitted
As tears drenched her starlike eyes.
All her heart
Yearned for the Scarlet-Purple ruler;
All her thoughts
Dwelled on fleeing at once this snare and net.
Truly it had been thus:
The fate of fair ladies was always harsh.
Weary and silent, she faced the east wind.
Walking up to her and bowing, Pilgrim said, “Greetings!” “This insolent imp!” barked the lady. “How brash could he be! During the time when I shared the glory with the Scarlet-Purple ruler, those grand preceptors and prime ministers would prostrate themselves before me and dared not even raise their heads. How could this wild fiend just address me with a ‘Greetings’? Where did this rustic boor come from?”
Some of the maids went forward and said, “Madam, please do not be angry. He is a trusted junior officer of Father Great King, and his name is Going and Coming. He was the one sent to deliver the declaration of war this morning.” On hearing this, the lady suppressed her anger and said, “When you delivered the declaration, did you reach the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom?” “I took the declaration,” replied Pilgrim, “straight into the capital, reaching, in fact, the Hall of the Golden Chimes. After I saw the king in person, I took his reply back here.”
“When you saw the king,” said the lady, “what did he have to say?” Pilgrim said, “He claimed he was ready to fight, and just now, I have already told the great king about how the enemy forces were being disposed. That ruler, however, also expressed great longing for Madam. He wanted to convey a few words of special interest to you, but there are too many people around and I can’t speak here.”
On hearing this, the lady shouted for the two rows of vixen and deer to leave. After he closed the palace door, Pilgrim gave his own face a wipe and changed back into his original form. He said to the lady, “Don’t be afraid of me. I am a priest sent by the Great Tang in the Land of the East to go seek scriptures from Buddha in the Thunderclap Monastery of India in the Great Western Heaven. My master is Tripitaka Tang, the bond-brother of the Tang emperor, and I am Sun Wukong, his eldest disciple. When we passed through your kingdom and had to have our travel rescript certified, we saw a royal proclamation issued for the recruitment of physicians. I exercised my great ability in the therapeutic arts, and I cured the king of his illness of ardent longing. During the banquet he gave to thank me, he told me while we were drinking about how you were abducted by the fiend. Since I have the knowledge of subduing dragons and taming tigers, he asked me specially to come arrest the fiend and rescue you back to the kingdom. It was I who defeated the vanguard, and it was I, too, who slew the little fiend. When I saw, however, how powerful the fiend was outside the gate, I changed myself into the form of Going and Coming in order to take the risk of contacting you here.”
On hearing what he said, the lady fell silent. Whereupon Pilgrim took out the treasure bracelets and presented them with both hands, saying, “If you don’t believe me, take a good look at these objects.”
The moment she saw them, the lady began to weep, as she left her seat to bow to Pilgrim, saying, “Elder, if you could indeed rescue me and take me back to the kingdom, I would never forget your great favor!”
“Let me ask you,” said Pilgrim, “what sort of a treasure that is that releases fire, smoke, and sand?” “It’s no treasure!” replied the lady. “They are actually three golden bells. When he gives the first bell one wave, he can release up to three thousand feet of fire to burn people. When he waves the second one, he can release three thousand feet of smoke to fumigate people. When he waves the third one, he can release three thousand feet of yellow sand to confound people. The smoke and the fire are not even as potent as the yellow sand, which is most poisonous. If it gets into someone’s nostrils, the person will die.” “Formidable! Formidable!” said Pilgrim. “I had the experience, all right, and even I had to sneeze a couple of times! Where, I wonder, does he put these bells?”
“You think he’d put them down!” said the lady. “He has them tied to his waist, and whether he is in or out of doors, whether he is up or lying down, they’ll never leave his body.” “If you still have some feelings for the Scarlet-Purple Kingdom,” said Pilgrim, “if you want to see the king once more, you must banish for the moment all sorrow and melancholy. Put on your looks of pleasure and romance, and allow him to enjoy with you the sentiments of wedlock. Tell him to let you keep the bells for him. Then, when I have stolen them and brought this fiendish creature into submission, it will be simple to take you back to your dear mate so that both of you can enjoy peace and harmony once more.” The lady agreed.
Our Pilgrim changed again into that trusted junior officer and opened the palace door to summon the various maids. Then the lady called out, “Going and Coming, go to the pavilion in front quickly and ask the great king to come here. I want to speak to him.” Dear Pilgrim! He shouted his consent and dashed out to the Skinning Pavilion to say to the monster-spirit, “Great King, Lady Sage Palace desires your company.” Delighted, the fiend king said, “Normally our lady has nothing but abuse for me. How is it that she desires my company today?” “Our lady,” replied Pilgrim, “asked me about the ruler of the ScarletPurple Kingdom, and I told her, ‘He doesn’t want you anymore. He has chosen another queen from among his subjects.’ When our lady heard this, she had to stop thinking about him, and that was why she asked for you.” Exceedingly pleased, the fiend king said, “You are quite useful! When I have destroyed that kingdom, I’ll appoint you a special court assistant.”
Thanking him casually for his promised favor, Pilgrim walked quickly with the fiend king to the entrance of the rear palace, where the lady met them amiably and reached out with her hands to greet the monster. Backing off immediately and bowing, the fiend king said, “I’m honored! I’m honored! Thank you for your love, but I’m afraid of the pain in my hands, and I dare not touch you.” “Please take a seat, Great King,” said the lady, “for I want to speak to you.” “Please do so without hesitation,” replied the fiend king.
The lady said, “It has been three years since you first bestowed your love on me. Though we have not been able to share a bed together, it is still our foreordained affinity that we should become husband and wife. I think, however, that you must have some sentiments against me, and you are not treating me truly as your spouse. For I can recall the time when I was queen at the ScarletPurple Kingdom. Whenever the foreign nations presented their tributary treasures, the queen was asked to keep them after the king had inspected them. You have hardly any treasures here, of course; what you wear are furs, and what you eat are raw meats. I haven’t seen any silks or damasks, any gold or pearls. All our coverings are only skins and furs. You may have some treasures, I suppose, but the distance you feel toward me prevents you from letting me see them or asking me to keep them for you. I have heard that you have some kind of bells or gongs—three of them, in fact—which, I suppose, must be treasures. Or else why would you keep them with you when you are walking or when you are seated? You should let me keep them for you, and when you need them, I can
take them out. After all, we are husband and wife, and you should at least show
me some trust. If you don’t, you must feel that I’m still an outsider!”
Breaking into loud guffaws as he bowed to her, the fiend king said, “Madam, your reprimands are just! Your reprimands are just! The treasures are right here. Today, I turn them over to you for safekeeping.” He at once hitched up his clothes to take out the treasures. With unblinking eyes on one side, Pilgrim saw that after the fiend had hitched up two or three layers of clothing, he had tied to his body three small bells. These he took down and, having stuffed some cotton into the mouths of the bells, had them wrapped up in a piece of leopard skin before he handed them over to the lady. “Though these are lowly objects,” he said, “you must guard them with care. Never shake or rattle them.” Taking them over with her hands, the lady said, “I know. I’ll put them right here on my dressing table. No one will shake them.”
Then the lady said, “Little ones, prepare us some wine. I want to drink a few cups with the great king to celebrate our happiness and love.” On hearing this, the servant girls at once spread out a table full of vegetables and fruits and laden with venison and rabbit meat. After they poured out some coconut wine, the lady put on her most seductive charms to deceive the monster-spirit.
On the side Pilgrim Sun also began his work; slipping slowly up to the dresser, he gently picked up those three golden bells before he inched his way out of the palace. When he arrived at an empty spot before the Skinning Pavilion, he opened up the leopard skin wrap to look at the contents. The middle bell was about the size of a tea mug, while the two on both ends were as big as fists. Not knowing how formidable these objects were, he yanked out the cotton. All he heard was a loud clang, and then the flame, the smoke, and the yellow sand poured out from the bells. He tried desperately to stuff the cotton back into the bells but to no avail. Instantly, flames leaped up and engulfed the pavilion.
Those monsters and fiends were so terrified that they rushed into the rear palace to report to the fiend king, who shouted, “Go put out the fire! Go put out the fire!” When he dashed out with the rest to the pavilion, he saw Going and Coming with the golden bells in his hands. “You wretched slave!” bellowed the fiend king, rushing up to him. “How dare you steal my treasure bells and mess with them here? Seize him! Seize him!” Those tiger warriors, bear commanders, leopard captains, striped-cat marshals, brown elephants, grey wolves, clever deer, sly hare, long serpents, huge pythons, and the chimpanzee all mobbed the pavilion.
Terribly flustered, our Pilgrim dropped the bells and changed back into his original form. Whipping out his golden-hooped compliant rod, he plunged into the crowd and fought furiously. After the fiend king had put away his treasures, he shouted the order: “Shut the front door!” On hearing this, some of the fiends went to shut the door while others surrounded Pilgrim to do battle. Suspecting that it would be difficult for him to flee, Pilgrim put away his rod and, with one shake of his body, changed himself into a tiny fly which alighted on one of the stone walls that was not burning. When the various fiends could not find him, they said, “Great King, the thief has escaped!”
“Did he walk out of the door?” asked the fiend king. “The front door is firmly bolted,” they replied. “He hasn’t left that way.” “Then search carefully!” said the fiend king. Some of the fiends put out the fire with water, while others conducted a careful search all around, but there was not a trace of the thief.
“Who is the thief,” said the fiend king angrily, “who is so audacious that he dared change into the shape of Going and Coming, come in here to speak to me, and stay by my side until he found the chance to steal my treasures? It’s a good thing that he didn’t take the bells out of the cave. If he had taken them up to the summit and had exposed them to natural wind, I wouldn’t know what to do!”
“It’s partly the profound luck of the Great King,” said the tiger general, approaching him, “and partly the fact that we are not yet destined to perish. That’s why we were able to discover him in time.” “Great King,” said the bear commander, “this thief is not just any other person. He must be that Sun Wukong who has defeated our vanguard. He probably ran into Going and Coming on the way and took our officer’s life. After he robbed him of his yellow banner, brass gong, and nameplate, he changed into his appearance to come here and deceive you.” “Exactly! Exactly!” said the fiend king. “What you say is quite right! Little ones, continue the search, and be careful that you do not let him slip out the door.” So, that was how things stood:
A clever move has turned to folly;
A playful act becomes something real.
We do not know how Pilgrim Sun managed to escape from the fiend’s door; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.