Pilgrim took leave of the Bodhisattva, brought his cloud down, hung the cassock on a fragrant nanmu tree, whipped out his staff, and charged into Black Wind Cave. But was there a single junior demon left in the cave? They had all seen the Bodhisattva appear and reduce their old master to rolling on the ground, and in panic they had scattered and fled.
Pilgrim waxed all the more violent: he piled dry firewood before each of those several gates, set fire front and back all at once, and burned Black Wind Cave into a "Red Wind Cave." Then he took up the cassock, mounted his auspicious light, and turned back due north.
The story tells how Sanzang, watching anxiously for Pilgrim who did not come, grew deeply troubled: did the Bodhisattva refuse to come, or had Pilgrim made some excuse and run off?
In the very midst of his wild guessing, a glitter of colored mist filled mid-air and Pilgrim suddenly dropped down before the steps, calling: "Master, here's the cassock!"
Sanzang was overjoyed.
The monks too rejoiced without exception: "Saved! Saved! Only today are our lives made whole!"
Sanzang received the cassock and said: "Wukong, when you left this morning, the pact was by mealtime or midday. Why do you only return now, with the sun in the west?" Pilgrim gave a full account of fetching the Bodhisattva, working the transformation, and subduing the demon. Hearing it all, Sanzang set up an incense table and bowed in worship toward the south.
Then he said: "Disciple, now that we have the Buddha-robe, let us quickly pack our bundles and be gone."
Pilgrim said: "No hurry, no hurry. The day is late—no time for traveling. Let's wait and set out tomorrow morning." All the monks knelt down together: "Master Sun speaks sense: first, the day is late; and second, we have vows to fulfill. Today, thank fortune, we are safe and have the treasure back. Let us pay our vows and ask the honored masters to share the blessing-food, and tomorrow morning we'll see you on your way west."
[Translator's note: after a sacrifice, distributing the offerings among those present was called "dispersing the blessing."]
Pilgrim said: "Just so, just so." And look at those monks: they emptied bags and boxes to the bottom, each giving all he had of the goods saved from the fire, and prepared a vegetarian feast; they burned paper prayers for peace and freedom from harm, and recited several scrolls of scripture to disperse calamity and dissolve misfortune. That evening the business was done.
Early the next morning they brushed down the horse, packed the baggage, and went out the gate. The monks escorted them far before turning back. Pilgrim led the way, and it was just the season of melting spring. Just see:
Grass cushions soft the hoofprints of the jade steed; willows sway their golden threads, the dew fresh upon them. Peach and plum fill the woods, vying in beauty; fig-vines wind the paths, putting forth their spirit. On the warm sand banks mandarin ducks sleep; in the mountain ravines, fragrant with flowers, the butterflies grow tame. Autumn gone, winter worn away, and spring more than half past—and who knows in what year his journey will be complete and he obtain the true scriptures?
Master and disciples traveled five or seven days along wild roads. One day, as the sky was darkening, they descried far off a village of households. Sanzang said: "Wukong, look over there—a mountain village is close at hand. Let's go ask for a night's lodging and travel on tomorrow. What do you say?" Pilgrim said: "Wait till old Sun goes and scouts the luck of it, good or bad, and then decide." The master drew up his silken reins, and Pilgrim fixed his gaze and looked. Truly:
Bamboo fences dense and close, thatched cottages tier on tier. Wild trees, tall as heaven, greet the gate; a winding stream and a plank bridge mirror the door. Along the road the willows green and swaying; inside the garden, flowers abloom and breathing fragrance. Now the evening sun was sinking west, and in every wood on every hill the birds made clamor; the supper smoke rose from the hearths, and down each path and lane the cattle and sheep turned home. And look: chickens and pigs, fed full, sleeping by the house corners; a drunken old neighbor singing as he comes along.
When Pilgrim had looked his fill, he said: "Master, ride on. It must be a village of good honest folk—just the place to beg a night's lodging."
The Elder urged on the white horse and soon came to the mouth of the village street. There they saw a young man, his head wrapped in cotton cloth, wearing a blue jacket, carrying an umbrella and a bundle, his trousers bound tight at the ankle, a pair of three-lashed straw sandals on his feet, stepping out briskly, hurrying down the street.
Pilgrim reached out and caught hold of him: "Where to? Let me ask you a thing or two: what place is this?"
The man only struggled, bawling: "Is there no one else in my village, that it's me you must question!" Pilgrim smiled good-humoredly: "Patron, don't be angry. 'Give another convenience, and you give yourself one.' What harm in telling me the name of the place? Perhaps I can even lighten your troubles." Unable to wrench free, the man hopped with fury: "Ill luck! Ill luck! Couldn't stomach the old master's unjust scolding, and now I run into this bald pate, to take his idle airs!" Pilgrim said: "If you have the skill, pry open my hand, and you may go wherever you like." The man twisted left and twisted right, but could he twist it loose? It was like a blacksmith's iron tongs clamped fast. Furious, he dropped his bundle, threw down his umbrella, and clawed at Pilgrim with both hands, thick as raindrops.
Pilgrim, one hand steadying the luggage, held the man off with the other: struggle and squirm as he might, the man could not lay a finger on him. And the tighter Pilgrim held, the madder he got, until he was sputtering with rage like a thunderclap.
Sanzang said: "Wukong, is there no one else coming? Ask that other man instead—what's the good of hanging on to this one? Let him go."
Pilgrim laughed: "Master, you don't know. Asking anyone else would be a bore; it's him I must ask—the deal is with him." Held fast by Pilgrim and unable to get away, the man had to speak: "This place is on the border of the country of Us-Tsang, and it's called Gao Village. More than half the households in the village are named Gao, and so it's called Gao Village. Now let me go." Pilgrim said: "With that outfit of yours, you're not dressed for a short stroll. Tell me true—where are you bound, and what's your errand? Then I'll let you go."
The man had no way out and could only tell the truth: "I'm a servant of Squire Gao, and my name is Gao Cai. My master has an old unmarried daughter, just twenty years of age, never yet betrothed, and three years ago a demon spirit took her. The demon has played the son-in-law these three years entire. My master is not pleased. 'A daughter wed to a demon spirit is no lasting arrangement,' he says: 'first, it ruins the family name; second, there's no exchange of kin to come and go.' So all along he's wanted to be rid of the demon. But would the demon consent to go? On the contrary, he has locked the daughter up in the rear compound these six months and more, and will not let her out to see anyone of the household. My master gave me a few taels of silver and told me to find a master of the Law to seize the monster. I haven't rested my feet all this while; one after another I've brought three or four—all feeble monks and fainthearted Daoists, none of them able to subdue the fiend. Just now the master cursed me out again, said I couldn't do a thing right, gave me another five mace of silver for the road, and sent me to fetch some good master of the Law to subdue him. And then I ran into you, you devil-star, who caught hold of me and held up my journey—that's why I'm catching it from both sides, and in my helplessness I bawled at you. And now it turns out you know some gripping trick; I can't wrestle free, so I've told you the plain truth. Let me go."
Pilgrim said: "Your luck, my livelihood! This is what they call a deal that fits four and matches six. You need travel no farther, and you'll save your silver into the bargain. We are not feeble monks or fainthearted Daoists—we truly have some powers, and catching demons is our trade. It's just the thing: 'one trip looks after the doctor, and cures the eye into the bargain.' I must trouble you to go back and report to your master: say that we are holy monks, the emperor's sworn brother and his disciple, sent out from under the Eastern throne, traveling to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek scriptures, mighty skilled at subduing demons and binding monsters." Gao Cai said: "Don't you be fooling me. I'm a man with a bellyful of grievances already. If you've tricked me and you've no real powers, and can't catch that demon, won't I just catch it all over again?" Pilgrim said: "I guarantee I won't be the ruin of you. Lead us to your master's gate."
The man had no choice. Truly enough, he picked up his bundle, took his umbrella, turned back, and led master and disciple to the gate, saying: "Two Venerables, wait a moment and rest at the mounting block while I go in and announce you to my master." Only then did Pilgrim let go, set down the load, and lead the horse; master and disciple sat and stood by the gate, waiting.
Gao Cai entered the main gate and walked straight toward the central hall—and ran bang into Squire Gao.
The Squire cursed: "You thick-skinned beast—why aren't you out looking for a man? What are you doing back here?"
Gao Cai put down bundle and umbrella: "Let me report to Your Honor. I had scarcely reached the street mouth when I ran into two monks: one riding a horse, one carrying a load. He caught hold of me and wouldn't let go, asking where I was bound. Time and again I refused to tell him, but he pestered me past bearing and I couldn't get my hand free, so I told him everything about Your Honor's affairs, one item after another. And he was hugely delighted—says he'll catch that monster for us." Old Gao said: "Where are they from?" Gao Cai said: "He says they're holy monks, the emperor's sworn brother sent out from the Eastern throne, traveling to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek scriptures." The Squire said: "Monks come from so far—they'll surely have real powers. Where are they now?" Gao Cai said: "Waiting outside the gate."
The Squire hastily changed his clothes and came out with Gao Cai to welcome them, calling "Venerable Sirs." Hearing him, Sanzang turned at once, and there they were face to face.
The old man wore a black silk cap, a robe of scallion-white Shu brocade, a pair of rough-grained calfskin boots, and a black-green sash. He came out greeting them with smiles, saying: "Two Venerables, my respects."
Sanzang returned the courtesy, but Pilgrim stood without moving. Seeing his fierce, ugly looks, the old man dared not bow to him.
Pilgrim said: "How come you don't bow to old Sun?"
The old man was somewhat frightened, and he called to Gao Cai: "You young rascal—are you trying to do me to death? There's an ugly, monstrous son-in-law in the house already that I can't be rid of, and now you bring this Thunder God to plague me too?" Pilgrim said: "Old Gao, you've grown all these years for nothing—you still don't understand the world! If you judge men by their faces alone, you're clean wrong. Old Sun may be ugly, but he has some skill. If I capture the demon for your family, catch the ghost and the fiend, seize that son-in-law of yours, and give you back your daughter—wouldn't that be a fine thing? Why harp on and on about looks!" At this the Squire trembled, but he could only pull himself together and say: "Please come in."
Being asked, Pilgrim led in the white horse, told Gao Cai to carry the luggage, and went in with Sanzang. Heedless of polite ways, he tethered the horse to a pillar of the open hall, dragged over a chair of dulled lacquer for Sanzang to sit on, then pulled over another chair and sat down beside him.
Old Gao said: "This little Venerable is quite at home with us."
Pilgrim said: "Let me stay six months, and you'll see how at home I can be."
When they were seated, Old Gao asked: "My man was saying just now—the two Venerables come from the Eastern Land?"
Sanzang said: "Indeed. This humble monk, by command of the court, is traveling to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha and seek scriptures. Passing your honored village, we would borrow a night's lodging and go on early tomorrow." Old Gao said: "So you've only come to lodge—why speak of catching monsters?" Pilgrim said: "Since we're lodging anyway, we might as well catch a few monsters for fun, on the side. Let me ask: how many monsters does your honored house hold?" Old Gao said: "Heaven help us! What do you take us for—a larder? Just this one monstrous son-in-law has worried me to rags!" Pilgrim said: "Tell me the whole story of this monster from beginning to end, and how much power he has, and I'll catch him for you."
Old Gao said: "In our village, from old times to this day, there's never been any ghost or goblin, any evil demon making trouble. It's only my own misfortune: I never had a son, only three daughters. The eldest is called Xianglan, the second Yulan, the third Cuilan. The two elder were betrothed from childhood to households of this village. Only the youngest was to take a husband in, in hopes he would live with me as a family and support my old age—a son-in-law to hold up the gate and keep the house, to work and run errands. Three years ago, who could have known, there came a fellow, rather fine-looking, who said he was from a household on Fuling Mountain, surnamed Zhu, no parents above him, no brothers below, and willing to be a son-in-law to some family. I, old fool, seeing a man with no roots and no ties, took him in. When he first came through the door, he was diligent indeed: plowing and harrowing without oxen, reaping the crop without sickle or staff. Coming at dusk, going at dawn—really quite satisfactory. Only one thing: he has a way of changing his face."
Pilgrim said: "How does he change?" Old Gao said: "When he first came, he was a dark, stout fellow; later he turned into a lunkhead with a long snout and great big ears, with a strip of bristles down the back of his head, his body rough and frightening to see—his head and face just like a pig's. And his gut is enormous: at one meal he'll eat three or five pecks of rice; for his morning snack it takes a hundred-odd sesame cakes to fill him up. The blessing is, he still eats vegetarian. If he took to wine and meat as well, with my farm and property here, he'd eat the whole of it clean in half a year!" Sanzang said: "Because he works so hard, he eats so much." Old Gao said: "Eating is a small matter beside the rest. Now he can raise wind besides—clouds coming, mists going, stones rolling and sand flying—so that my whole household and all the neighbors left and right have no peace. And he has locked my youngest daughter Cuilan in the rear compound; for six months and more not a glimpse of her, and who knows if she's dead or alive. That's how I know he's a monster, and why I want a master of the Law to make him leave, make him leave." Pilgrim said: "What difficulty is there in that? Old man, set your mind at ease: tonight I guarantee I'll catch him and make him write you a paper of divorce and give you back your daughter. How's that?" Old Gao was overjoyed: "Taking him in has cost me no small thing—ruined my good name, estranged me from half my kin. But catch him, and what do I care for papers? Only rid me of him root and branch!" Pilgrim said: "Easy! Easy! When night falls, you'll see."
The old man, greatly pleased, had tables and chairs wiped and set, and a vegetarian meal laid out.
The meal done, toward evening, the old man asked: "What weapons will you need? How many men to follow you? Tell me soon, that I may get them ready."
Pilgrim said: "Weapons I have of my own." The old man said: "You two have only that tin staff—how will a tin staff beat a demon?" Thereupon Pilgrim drew from his ear an embroidery needle, twirled it in his fingers, flourished it in the wind, and it became an iron cudgel with golden bands, thick as a rice bowl. He faced Old Gao with it: "Look at this staff of mine—how does it compare with your farm tools? Will it beat this monster or no?" Old Gao asked again: "With your weapon, will you want men along?" Pilgrim said: "I need no men—only a few venerable old men of virtue and standing, to sit with my master in quiet chat, so I can leave him and slip away. When I've caught the demon, I'll question him before you all, and root him out for you for good." The old man at once called household servants and invited several kinsmen, old friends, and neighbors.
In a little while they had all arrived.
Greetings over, Pilgrim said: "Master, sit easy and set your mind at rest. Old Sun is off."
Look at him gripping the iron staff and pulling Old Gao along: "Lead me to the rear compound—let me have a look at the demon's dwelling."
Old Gao led him to the gate of the rear compound. Pilgrim said: "Fetch the key, quick." Old Gao said: "Just try looking first. If it took a key, I'd never have had to ask you in." Pilgrim laughed: "Old man, for all your years you can't take a joke. I was just teasing you with that key talk, and you took it for earnest." He stepped up and felt the lock: it was one of those poured fast with molten bronze.
Viciously he gave the gold-banded cudgel one jab, smashed the door open—inside it was black as pitch.
Pilgrim said: "Old Gao, go call your daughter—see if she's within."
The old man summoned his courage and called: "Third Sister." The daughter knew her father's voice, and answered faintly, strengthlessly: "Papa, I'm here." Pilgrim flashed his golden eyes and peered carefully into the darkness. What do you suppose she looked like? Just see:
Cloud-hair tangled, uncombed; jade face unwashed of its grime. Her orchid heart unchanged within, but all her sweet charms gone to wreck. Cherry lips without a trace of color; her waist bent, huddled, and weak. Brows knitted in grief, faded and thin; wasted and frail, her voice sunk low.
She came out, and seeing Old Gao, seized him with both hands and wept aloud, head on his shoulder.
Pilgrim said: "Don't cry! Don't cry! Tell me—where has the monster gone?"
The girl said: "I don't know where he goes. All this time, he leaves at daybreak and returns only at night, in cloud and mist, coming and going who knows where. Because he knows father means to be rid of him, he keeps on his guard too—that's why he goes at dusk and comes at dawn." Pilgrim said: "No more need be said. Old man, take your daughter to the front compound, have your long talk in peace, and let old Sun wait for him here. If he doesn't come, don't blame me; but if he comes, I'll surely cut the grass and dig up the root for you." Delighted, Old Gao led his daughter away.
Pilgrim then worked his magic: he shook himself, changed, and became the very image of that girl, and sat alone in the room waiting for the demon. Before long a wind came, and truly it rolled stones and flew sand. What a wind:
At first a light, mild stirring; later on, vast and boundless. Light and mild, yet heaven and earth rock; vast and boundless, and nothing stands in its way. It snaps carved rafters and breaks willows better than hempen rope; it topples trees and mows down woods like plucking greens. It churns rivers and whips the seas till ghosts and gods grieve; it splits rocks and bursts mountains till heaven and earth marvel. The stag that carried flowers in its mouth has lost its homeward track; the ape that plucked the fruit strays bewildered abroad. It bends the seven-tiered iron pagoda down to the Buddha's head; it tears the eight-faced banners and hurts the jeweled canopy. Golden beams and jade pillars shake loose at the root; the roof tiles go flying like flights of swallows.
The boatman at his oar vows vows to the gods; the shipper hastily stages his sacrifice of pig and sheep. The local deity abandons his shrine; the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas make their bows to the court of Heaven. It batters the yaksha's boat along the coast; it blows down half the Great Wall's frontier wall.
As that wild gust passed, a demon spirit appeared in mid-air—truly an ugly thing: a black face and short bristles, a long snout and great ears; he wore a cloth gown neither blue nor green, and a flowered cloth kerchief round his waist. Pilgrim laughed to himself: "So this is the deal!" A fine Pilgrim! He did not go out to meet him, nor question him, but lay on the bed feigning sickness, groaning and moaning without pause.
The monster, unable to tell false from true, walked into the room, took "her" in his arms, and tried for a kiss.
Pilgrim laughed inwardly: "So you mean to take liberties with old Sun!"
He used a wrestling trick, braced the monster's long snout, gave a little toss—and with a flop threw him off the bed.
The monster scrambled up, steadying himself on the bed's edge: "Sister, why are you rather strange with me today? Could it be I've come too late?"
Pilgrim said: "Not strange! Not strange!" The demon said: "If you're not strange with me, why throw me that tumble?" Pilgrim said: "How can you be so small-minded—grabbing me for a kiss the moment you're in the door? I'm feeling out of sorts today. If it were any ordinary day, I'd have gotten up and opened the gate to wait for you. Come—take off your clothes and go to sleep." The monster, missing the point, actually went and began undressing. Pilgrim bounced up and sat himself on the chamber pot.
The monster came back to the bed and felt around; no one there. He called: "Sister, where have you gone? Take off your clothes and come to bed."
Pilgrim said: "You sleep first. Wait till I've seen to a call of nature." The demon indeed loosened his clothes first and climbed into bed.
Suddenly Pilgrim heaved a sigh, saying: "My luck has run low!" The monster said: "What are you fretting for? How has your luck run low? Since I came to your family, I've had my share of tea and rice, but I never ate it for nothing either: I've swept your floors and cleared your ditches, hauled bricks and carried tiles, pounded earth and built walls, plowed the fields and harrowed the ground, planted wheat and set out the seedlings—I've built up this family's estate. Now look at you: you wear brocade and gold; through the four seasons there are flowers and fruit to enjoy, at the eight festival times there are vegetables fresh-cooked. What is there left to discontent you, that you sigh short and groan long and talk of luck run low?" Pilgrim said: "It's not like that. Today my parents, over the wall, kept throwing bricks and tiles, scolding and cursing me something dreadful." The monster said: "What do they scold and curse you for?" Pilgrim said: "They say that I, having made myself a wife to you, and you being a son-in-law in their house, have no manners at all. A man with such an ugly face—can't be shown to my uncles, can't be seen by the kin. And nobody knows where you come from with your clouds and mists—what household, what surname, what name—ruining their good repute and staining their family honor. That's why they scold and curse me, and that's my sorrow." The monster said: "Ugly I may be a little, but if it's handsome you want, that's no hard thing either. When I first came, I spoke with him about it, and only when he was willing did he take me in. How does this talk arise again today! My home is in Yunzhan Cave on Fuling Mountain. I took my surname from my looks, and so I'm surnamed Zhu; my official name is Zhu Ganglie. If he asks you again, just tell him that."
Pilgrim rejoiced inwardly: "This monster is honest after all—no need for torture, and he's confessed this clearly. Now that I've got the place and the name, catch him I will, no matter what."
Pilgrim said: "They mean to invite a master of the Law to seize you." The monster laughed: "Sleep, sleep! Pay him no mind! I have the transformations of the Heavenly Gang number, and a nine-toothed rake—what do I care for your masters of the Law, monks, or Daoists? Even if your old father were devout and brought down the Patriarch who Scourges Demons of the Nine Heavens, I've made his acquaintance before, and he wouldn't dare do a thing to me." Pilgrim said: "They say they'll invite the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, surnamed Sun, who five hundred years ago wreaked havoc in Heaven's palace, and that he's coming to seize you." At that name the monster showed a third part of fear: "If that's how it is, I'd best be off. There'll be no husband and wife for us." Pilgrim said: "Why leave all of a sudden?" The monster said: "You don't know. That Protector of Horses who wrecked Heaven's palace has real powers. I'm only afraid I couldn't handle him—that my name would be dragged down, and it wouldn't look well."
With that, he pulled on his clothes, opened the door, and was marching out—when Pilgrim seized him, wiped a hand across his own face, and showed his true form.
He roared: "Fine monster—where do you run! Lift your head and look—who am I?"
The monster rolled his eyes around, and saw Pilgrim with fangs bared and mouth grinning, eyes of fire and gold, a furry face on a bowed head—the very image of a live Thunder God. In terror his hands went numb and his legs went soft; with a ripping sound he burst his clothes, turned into a wild wind, and made his escape. Pilgrim leapt after him, snatched out his iron staff, and struck at the wind. The monster burst into ten thousand sparks of fire and made straight for his own mountain.
Pilgrim rode his cloud, chasing hard, crying: "Where do you run! If you go up to Heaven, I'll chase you to the Palace of the Dipper and the Ox! If you dive into the earth, I'll follow you to the Prison of the Wrongfully Dead!"
Ah! But to what place did this chase carry him, and who won and who lost—listen to the explanation in the next chapter.