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26 The Lesser Thunder Monastery

The Guardian Gods conferred with Wukong. They assigned the Six Ding Spirits to protect the Tang Monk, the Six Jia Spirits to guard the golden cymbals, and the Kalas to keep watch all around. Then one of them mounted a cloud of radiance, in an instant burst through the Southern Heaven Gate, ascended to the Hall of Miraculous Mist below, and prostrated himself to report. The Jade Emperor immediately issued a decree, ordering the twenty-eight lunar mansions to hasten forth and deliver them from calamity and subdue the demon. The lunar mansions, together with the Guardian Gods, arrived inside the temple gate and reported outside the cymbals, "Great Sage, we are the twenty-eight lunar mansions sent by the Jade Emperor to rescue you." Wukong was overjoyed and said, "Break them open with weapons, and Old Sun will come out!" The lunar mansions said, "This object is made of solid gold; striking it will make a noise, and if the demon is alarmed, rescue will become impossible. Let us pry it open with our weapons — the moment you see any glimmer of light, escape." So saying, each mansion deity wielded his weapon: some levered, some lifted, some heaved, some pried. Yet the cymbals remained as though cast whole, utterly unmoving. Wukong peered about inside, crawling this way and rolling that, but could not glimpse the slightest ray of light. The Dragon of the Neck said, "Great Sage, restrain your frustration. This treasure must be a magical object that can change shape. Feel about inside with your hands while I drive my horn-tip into the seam — when you find an opening, transform yourself and slip out." Wukong did as he was told. The Dragon of the Neck shrank his body until his horn-tip was as fine as a needle. Along the seam where the cymbal halves met, he drove it in. It took all his strength of a thousand catties to pierce through. Then he worked magic on himself and his horn, shouting, "Grow!" The horn swelled to the thickness of a bowl. But the rim of the cymbal clung tight as if it were living flesh, gripping the horn fast. Wukong groped about inside and found no slack anywhere. He felt the horn and cried, "It is no use! There is no other way — bear the pain a little and carry me out." So saying, he changed his golden-hooped rod into a steel drill and bored a hole through the tip of the horn. Next, Wukong formed a mystic sign and shrank his body to the size of a mustard seed. He crouched inside the drilled hole and called, "Pull out the horn!" That star-deity knew not how much strength it cost him before he finally wrenched the horn free and collapsed on the ground, exhausted. Wukong wriggled out through the hole in the horn-tip, resumed his true form, seized his iron rod, and struck the cymbals with a clang, smashing this Buddhist instrument into a thousand fragments of scattered gold. Meanwhile the old demon king and all his minions, great and small, had been sleeping. Now they all woke with a start. The demon king flustered up, donned his robe, beat the drum, assembled his horde, and with weapons in hand they all rushed to the precious platform below. Wukong and the star-deities mounted clouds and leaped into the highest heavens. The demon king, wielding a short flexible wolf-tooth club, saw the golden cymbals shattered and cried out in shock and rage, "You wretched ape! Come down and fight me for three hundred rounds!" Wukong brandished his iron rod and shouted, "What monster are you, daring to impersonate the Buddha, occupy this mountain, and falsely establish the Little Thunderclap Monastery?" The demon king said, "This place is called Little Western Heaven. My name is the Yellow-Browed King. I have long known of your westward journey, and so I set up this false image to display my powers and lure your Master here, that I might wager with you." The demon king went on, "If you can defeat me, I will spare your master and disciples and let you attain true fruition. But if you cannot, I will slay you all, go before Tathagata to fetch the scriptures myself, and bring enlightenment to the Central Land." Wukong laughed, "Demon, boast not! If you wish to wager, come up and taste my rod!" So saying he raised his rod to strike, and the demon king parried with his wolf-tooth club. The two fought fifty rounds with neither gaining the upper hand. The demons beat gongs and drums at the temple gate, shouting and waving banners. On this side, the twenty-eight lunar mansions' heavenly troops and the Five Directions' Guardian Gods and all the saints, each bearing weapons, gave a mighty shout and surrounded the demon chief in the middle. The old demon feared nothing. Wielding his wolf-tooth club, he held off the host of warriors, then undid a white cloth bag from his waist and tossed it aloft. With a crash, it engulfed Wukong, the twenty-eight lunar mansions, and the Five Directions' Guardian Gods — all swept into the bag at once.

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