In verse:
Deluded thoughts—do not force them out of being; True suchness—why must it be sought? The root and self-nature must be cultivated before the Buddha; Delusion and awakening—who comes first, who last? Awake—and in one instant you are made right; Deluded—and for myriad kalpas you sink in the stream. If in a single thought you accord with true cultivation, The sins of Ganges-sand grains are burned away to none.
The story continues: Bajie and the Sha Monk had fought the monster through thirty rounds, and still victory was undecided. Why, you ask, was victory undecided? If it came to a contest of powers, never mind two monks—not twenty monks could have withstood that demon. It was only because the Tang monk was not fated to die: unseen, the guardian deities of the Law protected him, and in the air the Six Dings and Six Jias, the Guardians of the Five Quarters, the Four Officers of Duty, and the eighteen Protectors of the Faith were aiding Bajie and the Sha Monk.
Leaving the three combatants to their battle, the story turns to the elder weeping in the cave, thinking of his disciples, the tears streaming from his eyes: "Wuneng! Who knows in what village you have met some kind friend, and are feasting on temple food! Wujing! And where may you be looking for him—will you ever meet? Who could tell that I would meet a demon and suffer here! When shall I see you both again, escape this great tribulation, and hasten to the Holy Mountain!"
Just as he wept in his sorrow, a woman came walking out of the cave, steadying herself on the soul-fixing stake, and called: "Venerable sir, whence do you come? Why has he tied you up here?"
The elder heard, and through his tears stole a glance at her: a woman of about thirty. "Lady Bodhisattva," he said, "there is no need to ask. I am already a dead man, walking in at your very door. If you mean to eat me, eat me and have done—why all the questions?"
"I am no eater of men," said the woman. "My home is more than three hundred li west of here, where there is a city called the Kingdom of Baoxiang. I am the third princess of that king; my milk-name is Baihuaxiu. Thirteen years ago, on the night of the fifteenth of the eighth month, as I was enjoying the moon, this demon snatched me away with a gust of wild wind, and for thirteen years I have been his wife. Here I have borne him sons and daughters, with never a word reaching the court. I think of my father and mother, whom I cannot see. Whence do you come, that he has taken you?"
Sanzang said: "This poor monk is one sent to the Western Heaven to fetch the scriptures. Out for an idle stroll, I blundered in here by mistake. Now he means to catch my two disciples as well, and steam the lot of us together."
The princess managed a smile: "Take heart, venerable sir. Since you are one of the scripture-seekers, I can save you. Baoxiang lies on the high road of your journey west. Carry a letter for me, to be delivered to my father and mother, and I shall tell him to spare you."
Sanzang nodded: "Lady Bodhisattva, if you can save this poor monk's life, I will gladly be your letter-carrier."
The princess hurried to the rear, wrote a letter home on a single sheet, sealed and secured it, then came to the stake, released the Tang monk, and gave him the letter.
Freed at last, the Tang monk held the letter in both hands: "Lady Bodhisattva, my thanks for the kindness of my life restored. When this poor monk passes through your country, I will surely deliver it to the king. Only I fear that after so long a time your father and mother may be unwilling to acknowledge you. What then? Do not blame this poor monk for speaking a falsehood."
"No matter," said the princess. "My royal father has no son; only us three sisters were born to him. If he sees this letter, he will surely wish to see me."
Sanzang tucked the letter tightly into his sleeve, thanked the princess, and turned to go; but she caught hold of him: "You will never get out by the front gate! The great and small demons are all outside, waving banners and shouting, beating drums and clashing gongs, cheering their Great King on as he battles your disciples. Go out the back gate. If the Great King catches you, he will at least put you to the question; it is the little demons I fear—seize you they will, with no telling good from bad, and hurt you alive before your time. Wait while I go before him and put in a word for you. If the Great King lets you go, wait till your disciples ask his leave and find you, so that you can travel on together."
Sanzang knocked his head to her, obeyed her instructions carefully, took his leave of the princess, slipped out the back gate, and not daring to go far, hid his body in a thorn thicket.
Now the princess, her mind full of cunning plans, hurried forward and out the gate, parting the crowd of great and small demons. Ding-ding, dang-dang—the weapons clashed: Bajie and the Sha Monk were battling the monster in mid-air.
The princess called in a loud voice: "Yellow-Robe!"
Hearing his princess call, the demon king dropped Bajie and the Sha Monk at once, pressed down his cloud, stuck his steel blade upright, and took the princess's arm: "Wife, what have you to say?"
"Lord," said the princess, "just now, as I lay within the silken bed-curtains, in my dreaming soul I suddenly saw a spirit in golden armor."
"What spirit in golden armor?" said the demon. "What was he doing at my door?"
"When I was a little girl in the palace," said the princess, "I made a secret vow before the gods: if I might be given a worthy husband and royal son-in-law, I would climb the famous mountains, worship at the abodes of immortals, feed monks, and give alms. But since I was matched with you, in all our happy married life I have never once mentioned it. That spirit in golden armor came to claim my vow, and his shout woke me—and it was all a dream of the southern branch.
[Translator's note: "a dream of the southern branch" (nanke yi meng) means a brief dream of illusory glory, from the tale of a man who dreamed a whole lifetime of splendor beneath a locust branch.]
"So I hurried to make myself presentable and come tell you, my lord—and what should I see but a monk tied to the stake. I earnestly beg you, in your mercy, to look upon my small sincerity and spare that monk: count it as feeding monks in payment of my vow. I wonder, lord—will you grant it?"
"Wife," said the demon, "how suspicious you are! What great matter is that? When I want to eat a man, where cannot I scoop up a few to eat? One mere monk here or there—let him go."
"Lord, let him go by the back gate."
"What a bore! Letting him go is letting him go—what do I care whether it's back gate or front gate?"
So he took up his steel blade and called in a loud voice: "You there, Zhu Bajie! Come here! It is not that I fear you, or will not fight you—it is for the sake of my wife that I spare your master. Go quickly to the back gate, find him, and be off toward the West. If ever you invade my borders again, I shall most certainly not spare you!"
When Bajie and the Sha Monk heard these words, it was as if they had been sent back from the gates of the King of Hell. They hurriedly led the horse and shouldered the load, scuttled away like rats, rounded the back gate of Wave-Moon Cave, and called: "Master!"
The elder knew their voices and answered from the thorn thicket. The Sha Monk hewed open a path through the grass, steadied his master, and helped him hastily onto the horse. Here the cruel and venomous had all but met them with a blue-faced ghost; warmhearted and attentive, they were blessed with Baihuaxiu.
The giant turtle has slipped the golden hook: Lashing its tail, shaking its head, it swims away with the waves.
Bajie led the way before, the Sha Monk followed behind; out of the pine woods they went and onto the high road. And watch the two of them, jawing and jawing, grumbling and blaming, with Sanzang forever making peace between them. At dusk they sought their lodging; at cockcrow they rose to watch the sky; stage by stage, long pavilion and short, and before they knew it they had come two hundred ninety-nine li. Suddenly they raised their heads: there stood a fine city—it was the Kingdom of Baoxiang.
Truly a splendid place:
Clouds far and faint, roads stretching long. Though the land lie a thousand li away, Its scenes are rich as any at home. Auspicious vapors and happy mists enfold it; Pure winds and the bright moon go beckoning there. Towering, precipitous, the distant hills Unroll a painted scroll; Babbling, murmuring, the flowing streams Splash and shatter their jasper. Plowland runs ribband on ribband of fertile fields; Harvest-rich, the dense new shoots promise food. A few households fish the triple bends of the stream; Woodsmen shoulder one load from a double peak of pepper-trees. Outworks and city walls, fortifications firm as metal and boiling springs; House after house, door after door, each at ease and unconstrained. Ninefold high towers like palace halls; Ten-thousand-fathom terraced stages like prize banners. There too the Hall of the Great Ultimate, the Canopy Hall, the Incense-Burning Hall, the Hall of Contemplating Letters, the Hall of Promoting Governance, the Hall of Prolonged Worthies—hall upon hall of jade steps and golden stairs, where civil caps and martial helms stand arrayed. There too the Palace of Great Brightness, the Zhaoyang Palace, the Palace of Long Joy, the Huaqing Palace, the Jianzhang Palace, the Weiyang Palace—palace upon palace of bells and drums, pipes and flutes, washing away the spring sorrows of the boudoir. In the forbidden gardens, dew-flowers powder tender faces; Along the palace moat, wind-blown willows dance their slender waists. On the thoroughfares, the capped and belted ones ride in state, five horses in their train; In the quiet byways, the bow-bearing ones part the clouds and mist and pierce two eagles with a single shaft. Lanes of flowers and willows, towers of pipes and strings—spring winds yield nothing to Luoyang Bridge. The scripture-seeking elder looks back toward Great Tang, and heart and gall are rent; The master-following disciples rest their shoulders at the little post station, and dream-souls melt away.
They could not see enough of the scenery of Baoxiang. Master and disciples, three in all, gathered up the luggage and the horse, and lodged for the night in the post station.
The Tang monk walked to the gate of the court and said to the ambassador of the palace gates: "A monk of the Tang empire is here, wishing audience with the throne to have his travel documents examined and stamped. I beg you to transmit my request."
The officer of the yellow gates hurried to the white jade steps and memorialized: "Ten Thousand Years! A lofty monk of the Tang requests audience to have his travel documents examined and stamped."
The king heard that it was the great empire of Tang, and moreover a holy monk from afar, and his heart was glad; he approved at once, crying: "Summon him in!" Sanzang was led before the golden steps, and performed the dance of homage and the mountain-shout of obeisance.
The civil and military officials on either side could not help exclaiming: "Truly a personage of a great empire—such easy grace in rite and music!"
The king said: "Venerable sir, what business brings you to our kingdom?"
Sanzang said: "This humble monk is a son of the Buddha of the Tang empire, bearing the rescript of my Son of Heaven, journeying to the Western Heaven to seek the scriptures. I set out with travel documents, and at Your Majesty's great kingdom it is proper that they be examined and exchanged. Thus, not knowing better, I have presumed to startle the dragon countenance."
The king said: "If you carry the documents of the Tang Son of Heaven, bring them up for us to see."
Sanzang offered them up with both hands; they were unfolded and laid upon the imperial desk. They read:
"The Emperor of the Great Tang in the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa, ruling by the mandate of Heaven, issues this document of passage: We, of meager virtue, have inherited the great patrimony, serving the gods and governing the people, treading as upon thin ice, morning and night in dread. Formerly, through Our failure to save the old dragon of the Jing River, We incurred the condemnation of the August Lord on High; Our three souls and seven spirits passed in a flash to the courts of the shades, and We became the guest of the Impermanent One. Because the span of Our yang life was not yet run out, the dark sovereigns in mercy released Us to live again; We spread wide the assemblies of goodness and built altars for the deliverance of the dead. Grateful, We received the Bodhisattva Guanyin, the Savior of Suffering, whose golden body appeared and instructed Us that in the West there is Buddha and there are scriptures, able to save the darkened dead and release the lonely souls. We have specially commissioned the master of the Law Xuanzang to journey afar through a thousand mountains, to seek and inquire after the scriptures and gathas. Should he arrive at the various kingdoms of the West, let them not extinguish the bond of goodness, but by this document let him pass. Given under seal. Thirteenth year of Zhenguan of the Great Tang, an auspicious day of autumn, document issued before the throne." (Upon it were nine precious seals.)
The king read it, took the jade seal of his own kingdom, affixed it with his signature flourish, and handed the documents back to Sanzang.
Sanzang gave thanks for the favor, put away the documents, and memorialized again: "This poor monk comes, first, to have his documents examined, and second, bearing a letter of family to deliver to Your Majesty."
The king was overjoyed: "What letter?"
"Your Majesty's third princess," said Sanzang, "was carried off by the Yellow-Robed demon of Wave-Moon Cave on Bowl Mountain. This poor monk met her by chance, and thus brings her letter."
At these words the king's eyes brimmed with tears. "Since the princess disappeared thirteen years ago," he said, "we know not how many civil and military officials have been demoted and dismissed, how many maids and eunuchs, within the palace and without, have been beaten to death. It was said only that she had walked out of the palace and lost her way, and could nowhere be found; the households of the whole city were questioned past counting, and never a trace. How could we know it was a demon that had carried her off! Today, suddenly to hear these words—no wonder grief overcomes me and my tears fall."
Sanzang took the letter from his sleeve and presented it.
The king received it, and at the sight of the two characters "safe and well" his hands went weak; he could not unfasten the letter, but gave orders to summon a grand academician of the Hanlin Academy to read it aloud before the throne. The academician mounted the hall at once; before the throne stood the civil and military officials, behind it the consorts and palace ladies, all with ears inclined to the letter. The academician unsealed it and read aloud. It said:
"Your unworthy daughter Baihuaxiu bows her head a hundred times before the throne of her greatly virtuous royal father, Ten Thousand Years, in the Dragon and Phoenix Hall, before the three palace mothers in the Zhaoyang Palace, and before the assembled worthies, civil and military, of the whole court: Your poor daughter, happily born of the palace, is grateful beyond all words for your ten thousand toils in rearing her, yet has been unable to serve you with all her strength, gladdening your faces with her devotion. On a fine night, the fifteenth of the eighth month, thirteen years ago, by the grace of my royal father's decree each palace laid out a banquet, to enjoy the flower of the moon and share the pure delights of that festive evening. In the midst of the merriment, all unknowing, a fragrant wind arose, and there flashed forth a demon king with golden eyes, a blue face, and green hair, who seized your daughter, mounted a beam of auspicious light, and carried her straight away to a deserted place among half-wild mountains. Unable to resist or escape, she was forced by the demon's violence to be his wife. Thus, helpless, she has endured thirteen years, and has borne two demon children, spawn of that monster. Of this, truly, a thing that disgraces human bonds and wounds all decency, she ought not to send word, so as not to stain your honor; yet she feared only that after her death the truth would never be known. Just as she nursed her grievance and yearned after her parents, a holy monk of the Tang, by chance, was seized by the demon king as well. It was your daughter who, with dripping tears, wrote this letter and boldly set him free, entrusting him to carry this scrap of paper as a token of her heart. She humbly prays her royal father to look down in pity and send his generals swiftly to Wave-Moon Cave on Bowl Mountain to capture the Yellow-Robed Demon and bring your daughter back to the court—this would be a kindness remembered forever. Hasty and wanting in reverence, she awaits word. Your unfilial daughter Baihuaxiu bows her head again and again."
When the academician had finished the letter, the king wept aloud; the three palaces wept; the civil and military officials grieved; before and behind, all mourned together.
The king wept a long while, then asked the assembled officials: "Which of you dares raise troops and lead generals, to capture the demon for Us and save Our Baihua princess?"
He asked several times, and not one man dared answer—truly, generals carved of wood, officials molded of clay. The king's heart filled with bitterness, and his tears gushed like a spring.
Then the assembled officials bowed low and memorialized: "Let Your Majesty cease grieving for a moment. The princess has been lost, and thirteen years have passed without word. Now, by chance, comes this holy monk of the Tang bearing a letter—whether it be true, we do not yet know. Besides, we are all common men with common horses, trained in the books of war and military strategy: we can but set formations and pitch camps, to keep the state free from invasion. That demon comes on clouds and goes in mists; we can never meet him face to face—how are we to campaign against him and rescue her? Consider: this seeker of scriptures from the East is a holy monk of a great empire. This monk's Way is so high that dragons and tigers submit; his virtue so weighty that ghosts and gods revere him; he must surely have the art of subduing demons. As the ancients said: 'Whoever comes to tell of trouble is himself the man of trouble.' Let us ask this venerable elder to subdue the demon and save the princess—that would be the one sure plan."
Hearing this, the king turned quickly to entreat Sanzang: "Venerable sir, if you have the means—if you will use your magic powers, capture the demon, and save Our child and bring her back to court—then you need not go on to the West to worship the Buddha. Let your hair grow long and keep your head; We will swear brotherhood with you and share the dragon bed, sharing wealth and honor together. What say you?"
Sanzang hurriedly memorialized: "This poor monk knows crudely how to recite the Buddha's name; in truth he cannot subdue demons."
"If you cannot subdue demons," said the king, "how did you dare go to the Western Heaven to worship the Buddha?"
Cornered, the elder had to reveal his two disciples: "Your Majesty, this poor monk could never have come here alone. He has two disciples, skilled at opening roads through mountains and bridging waters, who have protected him to this place."
"How unreasonable of you, monk!" said the king. "If you have disciples, why did you not bring them in together to see Us? At court, though We might lack a gift to their liking, there would surely have been a share of vegetarian fare for them."
"My disciples are ugly," said Sanzang. "I dared not bring them into court unbidden, fearing to startle and injure Your Majesty's dragon body."
At that the king laughed: "Listen to the monk! Would We, then, be afraid of him?"
"I dare not say. My elder disciple's surname is Zhu; his religious names are Wuneng and Bajie. He was born with a long snout and protruding tusks, a bristling mane and flapping ears, a coarse body and a great belly, and he raises a wind as he walks. My second disciple's surname is Sha; his religious names are Wujing, and he is a monk. He was born twelve feet tall, with arms of full breadth, a face like blue indigo, a mouth like a basin of blood, eyes that flash and gleam, and teeth ranged like nails. They are both of such appearance—that is why I dared not bring them into court."
"Since you have described them thus," said the king, "what have We to fear from them? Summon them in." At once he sent a golden tablet to the post station to invite them.
When the blockhead heard the summons, he said to the Sha Monk: "Brother, you see now—you said I shouldn't deliver letters, and here you see the benefit of delivering them. Master must have delivered the letter, and the king said, 'the letter-carrier must not be slighted'—he is surely laying on a banquet in his honor. And his appetite being what it is, and having us two in mind, he named us—so here comes the golden tablet to invite us. We shall all eat our fill, and tomorrow travel the better for it."
"Brother," said the Sha Monk, "who knows what it's about. Let us be going."
So they handed the luggage and horse over to the keeper of the station, took their weapons with them, and followed the golden tablet into court. Coming at last before the white jade steps, they stood to left and right, bowed a greeting to the throne—and then never budged again.
The civil and military officials, every one of them afraid, all said: "These two monks—their looks are ugly enough, but they are so crude! They see our king, and will not even kneel; they finish their bow, straighten up, and stand there stock-still. Strange! Strange!"
Bajie heard them: "Gentlemen, do not discuss us so; we are what we are. At first glance we are somewhat ugly, it is true—but look at us a while, and we bear looking rather well."
The king, at the sight of his ugliness, was already startled; when he heard the blockhead speak, he trembled the more, could not keep his seat, and tumbled off the dragon bed—luckily the attendant officers caught and raised him up.
The Tang monk, in a flurry, knelt before the hall, knocking his head without cease: "Your Majesty, this poor monk deserves ten thousand deaths, ten thousand deaths! I said my disciples were ugly and dared not appear at court, for fear of harming the dragon body—and in truth they have alarmed the throne."
The king came trembling near, raised him up, and said: "Venerable sir, it was well you warned Us beforehand! Had you not, and We had seen him suddenly, We must have been frightened to death!" The king a long while composed himself, then asked: "Venerable Zhu and Venerable Sha—which of you is skilled at subduing demons?"
The blockhead, never one to weigh matters, answered: "Old Pig can subdue them."
"How do you go about subduing them?" asked the king.
"I was the Marshal Tianpeng," said Bajie. "Only for a crime against the heavenly code was I cast down into the world below—happily now I have turned to the true faith and become a monk. Of all who have come from the East to this place, the number one at subduing demons is me."
"Since a heavenly general descended to earth," said the king, "you must surely be skilled at transformation."
"I dare not claim it," said Bajie. "But I do know a few changes, more or less."
"Transform once for Us to see."
"Set me the subject, that I may change to fit the pattern."
"Something large, then."
Now Bajie had his thirty-six transformations; before the steps he showed off his art: he formed the spell-sign, muttered the words, shouted "Grow!"—arched his back, and grew eight or nine zhang tall, like a very god of the open road.
The two ranks of civil and military officials shook and trembled; the king and his court stood gaping in a daze.
Then the hall-guard general asked: "Venerable sir, growing to such a height—to what place must you grow before there is an end and limit?"
And the blockhead, ever ready with blockhead talk, answered: "It depends on the wind. With an east wind, it's bearable; a west wind, it will pass; but if a south wind rises, I'd poke a great hole clean through the blue sky!"
The king cried out in alarm: "Put away your magic powers! We understand your transformations now." Bajie drew himself down, resumed his own form, and stood attending before the steps.
The king asked again: "Venerable sir, when you go, what weapons will you engage him with?"
Bajie whipped the rake out from his waist: "Old Pig uses a nail-rake."
The king laughed: "What a disgrace to the family honor! Here We have whips, canes, mace-hammers, sabers, spears, battle-axes, swords, halberds, spears, and sickles—choose any one that suits your hand and take it. What sort of weapon is a rake?"
"Your Majesty does not know," said Bajie. "This rake of mine, coarse and clumsy as it looks, has been my constant companion since my youth. When I was marshal in the Water Palace of the Heavenly River, commanding and guarding eighty thousand water troops, it was all by the strength of this rake. Now, come to the mortal world, I guard my master with it: smash through the dens of tigers and wolves when we meet mountains, overturn the lairs of dragons and clams when we meet water—all by this rake." At these words the king was greatly pleased, and believed him.
He at once commanded the nine consorts and ladies-in-waiting: "Bring the whole jar of the imperial wine from Our own table, to speed the venerable elder on his way." Then he filled a goblet to the brim and offered it to Bajie: "Venerable sir, this cup of wine is but a small token of our thanks for your toil. When you have caught the demon and brought Our little daughter home, there will be a great banquet in your honor, and a rich reward of a thousand in gold."
The blockhead took the cup in his hand—and though his person was rough, his manners were almost refined: he made a deep bow to Sanzang: "Master, this wine should rightly have begun with you; but since it is the king's gift to me, I dare not refuse. Let old Pig drink first, to raise his spirits for catching the demon." And the blockhead drank it off in one draught, then poured a second goblet and handed it to his master.
Sanzang said: "I do not drink wine. Let your brothers have it." The Sha Monk came forward and received it.
Then Bajie raised cloud beneath his feet and soared straight up into the sky. The king saw it: "The Venerable Zhu can ride the clouds too!"
The blockhead gone, the Sha Monk drank off his wine as well, and said: "Master! When the Yellow-Robed Demon held you, the two of us fought him to a standstill, no more. If Second Brother goes alone now, I fear he cannot beat him."
"Just so, disciple," said Sanzang. "Go then, and lend him your aid."
Hearing this, the Sha Monk leapt up onto the clouds as well.
The king, alarmed, caught hold of the Tang monk: "Venerable sir, stay and sit with Us a while—do not go riding off on the clouds too!"
"Poor me! I could not go half a step if I would!" And there the two of them conversed in the hall. Of them we say no more.
Now the story tells how the Sha Monk caught up with Bajie: "Brother, here I am."
"Brother, what have you come for?"
"Master sent me to lend you a hand."
Bajie was overjoyed: "Well said, and well come! If we two strive with one heart and go catch that monster—well, whatever comes of it—our names will ring through this kingdom." Watch them:
Thick auspicious light bears them past the kingdom's bounds; Wreathing happy vapors carry them from the royal city. Bearing the king's command they come to the mountain cave, Striving with one heart to seize the monstrous fiend.
The two of them, in no long time, reached the mouth of the cave and pressed down their clouds. Bajie whipped out his rake, and with all his strength struck at the gate of Wave-Moon Cave, battering a hole the size of a bushel basket in the stone doors.
The little demons on gate duty, terrified, opened the doors, saw the two of them, and scurried back inside to report: "Great King, this is bad! That long-snouted, big-eared monk and that dismal-faced monk have come again and smashed the gates to bits!"
The demon started: "Those must be Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing again. I spared their master—how dare they come back and batter my gates!"
"I expect they forgot something," said a little demon, "and have come to fetch it."
"Nonsense!" snapped the old demon. "Forgot something—would they dare come smashing at my gates for that? There is surely a cause!"
He buckled on his armor in haste, took up his steel blade, marched out, and demanded: "Monks! Since I spared your master, how dare you come battering at my gates again?"
"You wicked monster—what a fine deed you've done!" said Bajie.
"What deed?"
"You tricked the third princess of Baoxiang into this cave, forced her by violence to be your wife, and have kept her thirteen years—it is time you gave her back! By command of the king I have come especially to seize you. Get inside quickly, tie yourself up with the ropes, and come out—it will spare old Pig the trouble of lifting a hand!"
At these words the old demon's fury was past all bounds. Watch him: with a grinding snap he clenches his steel teeth; with a whirl he rolls his round eyes; with a flourish he raises high his blade; and, all dripping red, he hews down at the head. Bajie turned aside and dodged, met him with the nail-rake full in the face, and behind came the Sha Monk, raising his precious staff and rushing forward to strike as well. This battle on the mountain top was different from the one before. Truly:
A word wrong, a phrase missed, and anger is roused; A poison heart, a wounded feeling, and fury is born. This demon king's great steel blade hews down upon the head; That Bajie's nine-toothed rake comes head-on to meet it. Sha Wujing flings wide his precious staff; The demon king parries the divine weapons. One fierce monster, two holy monks, Back and forth, in fine array. This one cries: "You cheated the king's daughter—a crime deserving death!" That one cries: "You poke your nose where fools rush in!" This one cries: "You forced marriage on the princess—you wound the state!" That one cries: "What's it to you?—spare us your strife!" Reckon it up: all for a letter carried, That monk and demon neither know any peace.
On that mountain slope they fought eight or nine rounds, and Bajie's strength began to fail: the rake grew hard to lift, his breath and muscle giving out. Why could he not beat him? When the battle first began, the guardian deities of the Law—since the Tang monk was in the cave—were secretly aiding Bajie and the Sha Monk; hence they had held him merely to a standstill. Now all the deities were in the Kingdom of Baoxiang guarding the Tang monk; and so the two of them were outmatched.
"Sha Monk," said the blockhead, "step up and fight him a while—old Pig needs to go relieve himself." And caring nothing for the Sha Monk, off he slunk in one streak into the wormwood and creepers, thorns and brambles, diving in headlong, good or bad, scalp scratched, snout and face torn, rolled himself up, and lay down—not daring to come out again, but leaving one ear on watch for the clash of arms.
Seeing Bajie gone, the demon rushed at the Sha Monk. The Sha Monk had no time to parry; the monster seized him with one grab, carried him into the cave, and the little demons bound him hand and foot, hog-tied.
Whether he lived or died—listen to the explanation in the next chapter.