Now the monster had Bajie hauled into the cave, and said: "Elder Brother! I've captured one!"
The old demon was delighted: "Bring him for me to see." The Second Demon said: "Well, isn't this he?" The old demon said: "Brother, you've got the wrong one. This monk is worthless." Bajie, quick to pick up the thread, said: "Great King, a worthless monk—let him go, do! It would be a sin!" The Second Demon said: "Don't let him go, Elder Brother. Worthless or not, he's one of Tang Sanzang's party—called Zhu Bajie. Dunk him in the clean-water pool out back for now; when the bristles have soaked off, salt him down, dry him in the sun, and keep him for a rainy day to go with the wine." Hearing this, Bajie said: "Ill luck! We've run into a demon in the cured-meat trade!" The little demons carried Bajie in and threw him into the water—but of that, no more.
Now Tang Sanzang sat before the slope with hot ears and twitching eyes, ill at ease in body. He called: "Wukong! Why is it that this scouting trip of Wuneng's takes him so long with no return?"
The Pilgrim said: "Master still doesn't know his heart." Sanzang said: "What heart has he?" The Pilgrim said: "Master, if this mountain really held demons, he couldn't have gone half a step—he'd have made a great show of terror and come running back to report to me. It must be there are no demons, and the road is quiet, and he's simply gone straight on." Sanzang said: "And if he truly has gone on, where are we to meet? This is open, empty wilderness—not like the market towns and city wells." The Pilgrim said: "Don't worry, Master; pray mount the horse. That idiot is lazy, so he's surely walking slow. Give the horse a little urging; we'll catch up with him for certain and go on together." So Tang Sanzang mounted, the Sha Monk shouldered the load, and the Pilgrim led the way ahead, up the mountain.
Now the old demon called the Second Demon again: "Brother, since you've taken Bajie, Tang Sanzang must be close at hand. Go scout the mountain once more, and on no account let him pass." The Second Demon said: "Going, going."
Watch him hastily muster fifty little demons and go up the mountain to patrol.
As they walked along, they saw auspicious cloud wisping and auspicious vapor spiraling. The Second Demon said: "Tang Sanzang is coming." The demons said: "Where is Tang Sanzang?" The Second Demon said: "Over a good man's head, auspicious cloud crowns the summit; over a wicked man's head, black vapor storms the sky. That Tang Sanzang is the Venerable Golden Cicada descended to the mortal world, a good man who has cultivated his conduct through ten lifetimes—that is why such cloud is wreathing there." None of the demons could see it. The Second Demon pointed with his finger: "There—isn't that he?" At that very moment Tang Sanzang, on horseback, gave a sudden shiver. Another point of the finger—another shiver.
Three times he pointed, and three times Tang Sanzang shivered, his heart and spirit restless. "Disciples," he said, "why do I keep shivering so?"
Sha Monk said: "The shivering must mean your food-induced illness is acting up." The Pilgrim said: "Nonsense. Master is walking these deep mountains and steep ridges—no doubt a little fright and too much care. Don't be afraid! Don't be afraid! Let old Sun play his staff along the way for you, to calm your fright." What a Pilgrim! He flourished open his staff and spun out a few routines before the horse—up three, down four, left five, right six—all by the Six Secret Teachings and the Three Strategies, working his divine powers.
The elder watched from horseback: a thing rarely seen in the world, wholly unmatched upon earth. He cut a path and pressed straight ahead—and it nearly frightened the monster out of his wits.
The demon, watching from the summit, saw his soul fly and his spirit scatter, and he cried out despite himself: "For years I've heard tell of Sun the Pilgrim—only today do I know the words were no empty rumor but very truth."
The demons came forward: "Great King, why puff up another's spirit and snuff out your own prestige? Who are you praising?" The Second Demon said: "Sun the Pilgrim's powers are vast. Tang Sanzang cannot be eaten." The demons said: "If you have no means, Great King, let a few of us go report to the Eldest Great King; have him muster every soldier in the cave, great and small, spread out in battle array, join strength and unite hearts—where could he escape to?" The Second Demon said: "You've never seen that iron staff of his—it has the valor that ten thousand men could not withstand. Our cave holds no more than four or five hundred soldiers. How could they stand up to one blow of it?" The demons said: "If that's so, Tang Sanzang can't be eaten—then didn't we take Zhu Bajie by mistake? Let's give him back now and be done." The Second Demon said: "We didn't exactly take him by mistake, and we can't exactly send him back lightly. In the end we mean to eat Tang Sanzang; it's only that for the moment we cannot." The demons said: "Then we wait a few years?" The Second Demon said: "No need for years. As I see it, this Tang Sanzang can only be plotted for gently, not snatched by force. If we try to seize him by might, we won't get so much as a sniff of him. He must be won over gently, cozened until his heart is at one with ours—then, out of gentleness, a plan can be laid to entrap him." The demons said: "If the Great King has settled on a plan to take him, can you use us?" The Second Demon said: "All of you return to your posts, and breathe not a word to the Eldest Great King. If he is disturbed, the news will surely leak and spoil my plan. I have transformations and magic of my own, enough to take him."
The demons scattered, and he alone leapt down from the mountain. Beside the road he shook his body and transformed into an aged Daoist priest. And how was he dressed? See him:
A star-bright cap gleaming, crane-white hair in wisps. A feathered robe ringed with embroidered sash, Cloud shoes stitched with yellow palm-fiber. Spirit clear, eyes bright as an immortal guest's; Body hale, limbs light as an old god of long life. Never mind your black-ox Daoist masters— He'd outshine the most famous worthies of the way. A false image decked out like a true one, Counterfeit feeling molded like the real.
Beside the great road he played a Daoist who had broken his leg: his foot dripping blood, groaning and moaning, crying over and over: "Help! Help!"
Now Tang Sanzang, trusting in the Great Sage Sun and the Sha Monk, was coming along in good spirits. Just as they were walking, he heard the cry: "Master, save me!" Hearing it, Sanzang said: "Mercy! Mercy! In this wild wilderness, with not a cottage for miles around—who is crying? It must be someone fallen in terror before tigers, leopards, wolves, and beasts." The elder turned his fine horse and called: "Who is the one in distress? Come out." The monster crawled out of the grass clumps, came before the elder's horse, and thumped his head on the ground without stop.
Sanzang, seeing from horseback that he was a Daoist and very aged besides, was sorely troubled at heart. He dismounted in haste and raised him: "Rise, pray rise." The monster cried: "Pain! Pain! Pain!" Releasing his hand to look, Sanzang saw blood streaming from his foot, and asked in alarm:
"Sir, where do you come from? How did you wound that honored foot?"
With cunning words and flowery phrases, in false feeling and sham sincerity, the monster said: "Master, west of this mountain there is a quiet and secluded temple, and I am a Daoist of that temple." Sanzang said: "If you serve the incense and rehearse the scriptures in your own temple, why wander idly here?" The demon said: "The day before yesterday, at a patron's house south of the mountain, I was invited with the Daoist brotherhood to pray to the stars and share out blessings; it was late when it broke up. My disciple and I traveled the road together. In a deep defile we suddenly met a striped fierce tiger, which carried off my disciple. I fled for my life, trembling, tripped, and fell on a rocky slope, hurting leg and foot, and I cannot find my way back. Today Heaven has blessed me indeed, to meet you, Master. I beg you, Master, in boundless compassion, save my life. If I can but reach the temple, even if I must pawn my body and sell my life, I will surely repay this deep kindness." Sanzang heard, took it all for truth, and said: "Sir, you and I are both men with but one life apiece. I am a monk, you are a Daoist—our caps and gowns differ, but the principle of cultivation is one. Were I not to save you, I would be no man of the cloister. Save you I will—only, you cannot walk." The monster said: "I cannot even stand. How could I walk?" Sanzang said: "Very well, very well. I can still walk. Let me lend you my horse for a stretch; when we reach your temple, you give me back my horse." The monster said: "Master, I am moved by your kindness—but my thigh and hip are hurt from the fall. I cannot ride." Sanzang said: "True enough." He called the Sha Monk: "Put the luggage on my horse, and carry him a stretch on your back." Sha Monk said: "I'll carry him." The monster turned his head quickly, shot Sha Monk a slanting glance, and said: "Master, I was terrified by that fierce tiger. At the sight of this ill-omened, dark-faced master, I grow only more frightened. I dare not have him carry me." Sanzang called: "Wukong, then you carry him." The Pilgrim answered again and again: "I'll carry him! I'll carry him!" And the demon there and then settled on the Pilgrim, submitting sweetly to being carried by him, and said not another word.
Sha Monk laughed: "This old Daoist has no eye for faces! My carrying him won't do—it must be him carrying me. Wait till Master isn't looking: on some three-cornered rock he'll snap every sinew in your body!"
The Pilgrim took him up, laughing through his teeth: "You wild demon, how dare you come provoke me? Have you never asked what years old Sun counts? A ghost-tale like yours may fool Tang Sanzang—do you think it can fool me? I know you for a monster of this mountain, bent on eating my master. But my master is no common fare—yours to eat! If you mean to eat him, you'll have to share at least half with old Sun." The demon, hearing the Pilgrim's muttering, said: "Master, I am a good family's son and grandson, turned Daoist.
Today, unluckily, I met the peril of tiger and wolf. I am no demon."
The Pilgrim said: "If you fear tigers and wolves, why don't you recite the Northern Dipper Sutra?"
Tang Sanzang was just then mounting, and hearing this, scolded: "You wild ape! To save one life surpasses building a seven-story pagoda. Carry him, and carry him—that will do. What's all this about Northern Dipper Sutars and Southern Dipper Sutars!" Hearing this, the Pilgrim said: "This fellow's luck holds! My master is a compassionate, kindly man—yet with a soft outside and a prickly inside. Were I to refuse to carry you, he'd be angry with me.
Carry you I shall—but let us have it clearly agreed first: if you need to pass water or worse, tell me beforehand. If it trickles down my back, the stench would be unbearable, and it would soil my clothes, with no one to wash them."
The monster said: "At my age, do you think I don't understand what you're saying?"
Then the Pilgrim pulled him up, hoisted him on his back, and with the elder and Sha Monk hurried along the great road westward. Where the mountain path was rough and uneven, the Pilgrim walked slowly and carefully, letting Tang Sanzang go on ahead.
Before they had gone three or five li, master and Sha Monk descended into a hollow, out of the Pilgrim's sight, and he grumbled inwardly: "Master, at his great age, still doesn't understand how things are. A road this far—even empty-handed, you'd count your hands a burden; I'd gladly fling everything down—and now he has me carrying this demon on my back! Never mind his being a demon: even were he a good man, at that age he'd have lived long enough—dash him to death and be done. Why carry him?"
Just as the Great Sage was calculating how to dash him, the monster knew it already—and he was skilled at moving mountains. He used a mountain-shifting, sea-upending spell: on the Pilgrim's back he formed a spell-hand, recited the true words, and dispatched Mount Sumeru into the air to press down on the Pilgrim's head.
The Great Sage, alarmed, tilted his head aside, and the mountain came down on his left shoulder and back. He laughed: "My son! What weighty-body trick is this you're using to crush old Sun? That's nothing to fear—only, a balanced load carries well, but a one-sided load is hard to bear."
The demon said: "One mountain won't hold him down!" He recited another spell and dispatched Mount Emei into the air to press down. Again the Great Sage tilted his head aside, and it came down on his right shoulder and back. And see him—bearing two great mountains on his shoulders, flying like a star to catch up with his master!
The demon chief saw it and broke into sweat from head to foot, moisture starting from every pore: "He can carry mountains!" Summoning all his temper, he recited the true words, dispatched Mount Tai into the air, and pressed it squarely down on the Pilgrim. The Great Sage's strength went soft and his sinews numb; crushed under that Mount Tai press, his Three Corpse-spirits leapt, and from his seven apertures sprayed red.
What a demon-monster! Having used his magic to press down the Pilgrim, he mounted a long wind in haste and raced off after Tang Sanzang, reaching down from the clouds to pluck the man off his horse. Sha Monk in terror dropped the luggage, whipped out his demon-quelling staff, and blocked the blow aimed at his head. The demon raised a seven-star sword and came on to meet him. What a battle:
The seven-star sword, the demon-quelling staff, Ten thousand glints of golden light like lightning. This one's round eyes fierce as the Black Killer God; That one's iron face truly the Curtain-Raising General. [Translator's note: Sha Monk's title from his days in Heaven, where he guarded the jeweled curtain of the Hall of Divine Mists.] The monster flaunts his power before the mountain, His one thought to seize Tang Sanzang. This one strains to guard the true monk, His one thought—death sooner than yielding. The two of them spray cloud and puff fog, veiling the heavenly palaces; They kick up soil and scatter dust, hiding the Dipper's stars. They fight till the wheeling red sun pales to nothing, Till the vast earth and all creation reel in gloom.
Back and forth they locked, eight or nine rounds— Till, unforeseen, the Sha Monk was beaten.
The demon, in full fierceness, swung his precious sword in routines that rolled like shooting stars, till Sha Monk grew faint and could no longer hold him off. He turned to flee, but the demon trapped his staff, swung wide a great hand, clutched Sha Monk, tucked him under his left arm, seized Tang Sanzang from the horse with his right hand, hooked the luggage on his toe-tips, opened his mouth, and bit the horse's mane; then, working his carrying spell, with one gust of wind he swept them all off to Lotus Cave, shouting at the top of his voice: "Elder Brother! The monks are all here!"
The old demon heard and rejoiced: "Bring them for me to see." The Second Demon said: "Well, aren't they here?" The old demon said: "Worthy brother, you've got it wrong again." The Second Demon said: "You said take Tang Sanzang." The old demon said: "Take him you did—but you still haven't caught that skilled one, Sun the Pilgrim. Him we must catch before we can enjoy our Tang monk. Until he's taken, touch not one hair of this man. That Monkey King's powers are vast, his transformations many. If we ate his master, would he take it lying down? He'd come brawling at our very gate, and there'd be no peace for us." The Second Demon laughed: "Brother, you do know how to exalt a man!
By your praises he'd be one scarce found in Heaven above and never found on earth below. As I see him, he's nothing much—no powers to speak of."
The old demon said: "And have you caught him?" The Second Demon said: "I've pressed him under three mountains—by now he cannot move an inch. That's how I managed to carry off Tang Sanzang and the Sha Monk, horse and luggage and all." The old demon heard, and his heart filled with joy: "Luck! Luck! With that wretch caught, the Tang monk will be food in our mouths at last!" He called the little demons: "Quick, bring wine! Let us toast our Second Great King's merit!" The Second Demon said: "Brother, hold the wine a moment. Have the little ones fish Zhu Bajie out of the water and hang him up." So they hung Bajie in the eastern corridor, Sha Monk on the west side, and Tang Sanzang in the middle; the white horse was led to the trough, and the luggage carried in.
The old demon laughed:
"Worthy brother, what skill! Three monks taken in two trips. But Sun the Pilgrim, though pinned under mountains, still calls for some scheme. How shall we fetch him in to fill out the steamer?"
The Second Demon said: "Be seated, Elder Brother.
To take Sun the Pilgrim, we needn't bestir ourselves. Just send two little demons with two treasures, and have them bottle him and bring him along."
The old demon said: "What treasures shall we send?" The Second Demon said: "Send my purple gold red gourd, and your mutton-fat jade vase." The old demon brought out the treasures: "Which two shall we send?" The Second Demon said: "Send Meticulous Sprite and Clever Bug." [Translator's note: the names of two little demons, literally "Fine-Eyed Sprite" and "Clever Insect."] He instructed them: "You two take these treasures, go straight to the mountain's utmost summit, hold them bottom-up and mouth-down, and call out 'Sun the Pilgrim!' The moment he answers, he'll be inside. Then at once paste on the seal 'By the urgent command of Lord Lao Zi, as decreed'—and in an hour and three quarters he'll have melted to pus." The two little demons kowtowed, took the treasures, and went out to fetch the Pilgrim—but of that, no more.
Now tell of the Great Sage, held by the demon's spell at the root of the mountains: in suffering he thought of Sanzang, in calamity he murmured the name of the holy monk, crying aloud: "Master! Remember when you came to Double Boundary Mountain and lifted the pressing placard—old Sun escaped his great tribulation, entered the gateway of the teaching, received the Bodhisattva's granted commandments, and lived with you and cultivated with you, one destiny, one aspect, one sight, one knowledge. Who would have thought that here, meeting this demon-obstacle, I'd be pressed under mountains again! Pity! Pity! If you die, it is as fate decrees—but what a waste of Sha Monk and Bajie and the little dragon who became a horse for you! Truly it is: the tall tree catches the wind, and the wind shakes the tall tree; man strives for a great name, and the name undoes the man!"
When he had finished his lament, the pearly tears fell like rain. This alarmed the mountain god and the local deity, and the Guardian spirits of the Five Quarters, who gathered with the Gold-Headed Guardian: "Whose mountain is this?" The local deity said: "Ours." "And who is pressed beneath your mountain?" The local deity said:
"We don't know." The Guardian said: "So you truly don't know. This is the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, Sun Wukong the Pilgrim, who five hundred years ago wrought havoc in Heaven, who now has turned to the true fruit and become a disciple of Tang Sanzang. How could you lend your mountain to a demon to press him with? You are dead men. If one day he works free, think you he'd spare you? At the lightest, the local deity would be sentenced to a posting at a relay station, the mountain god to military exile—and we should all be charged with criminal negligence." The mountain god and local deity took fright: "Truly we knew nothing, knew nothing. We heard that demon chief recite his mountain-moving spell, and we simply moved the mountain over. Who knew it was the Great Sage Sun?" The Guardian said: "Don't be afraid. As the law says: ignorance is not guilt. Here is my plan: let him out, and don't make him lift a hand against you." The local deity said: "That would be too much! Set a man free and then get beaten?" The Guardian said: "You don't know. He has an As-You-Will gold-banded cudgel, most formidable: those it strikes die; those it grazes are hurt. One tap snaps the sinews; one brush and the skin drops!" The local deity and mountain god, terrified at heart, took counsel with the Guardians of the Five Quarters, then came before the outer barrier of the three mountains and called: "Great Sage! The mountain god, the local deity, and the Guardians of the Five Quarters come to see you." What a Pilgrim—though the tiger be lean, its bold heart remains. Naturally imposing, in ringing tones he answered: "What do you want with me?" The local deity said: "We beg to inform the Great Sage: we shall move the mountains aside and invite the Great Sage to come out; pardon us our discourtesy." The Pilgrim said: "Move the mountains aside, and no beating for you." He shouted "Begone!"—just like a magistrate passing sentence.
The gods recited their true words and spells, sent the mountains back to their places, and released the Pilgrim.
The Pilgrim leapt up, shook off the dust, tightened his kilt, drew the staff from behind his ear, and called to the mountain god and local deity: "All of you stretch out your anklebones—two strokes apiece first, to ease old Sun's frustration!"
The gods were greatly alarmed: "A moment ago the Great Sage gave his word, pardoning our offense. How comes it that the moment he's out, he changes his tune and wants to beat us?" The Pilgrim said: "Fine local deity! Fine mountain god! You don't fear old Sun—but you fear the demon!" The local deity said: "That demon's powers are vast, his magic profound. He recites his spells and summons us to serve in his cave, one of us on duty each day!" At the words "on duty," the Pilgrim's own heart jumped. He lifted his face to the sky and cried aloud: "Heaven! Heaven! Since chaos first divided, since Heaven opened and Earth was set, since the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit gave me birth, I too sought out famous masters everywhere and received the secret of long life. Think of me: changing with the wind, subduing tigers and dragons, wreaking havoc in Heaven, winning the title of Great Sage—yet never once did I browbeat the mountain gods and local deities into serving me. And now this monster, with no decency at all, dares summon mountain gods and local deities as his servants, to stand his watches in turn! O Heaven!
Since you engendered old Sun, why did you also engender this breed?"
While the Great Sage was lamenting, he saw a glow of rosy light come billowing out of a hollow. He said: "Mountain god, local deity—since you serve in that cave, what is that thing that's shining?"
The local deity said: "That is the demon's treasure glowing. Some demon, I suppose, has brought the treasures to subdue you." The Pilgrim said: "Now that will be fun! Let me ask you: who keeps company with him in that cave?" The local deity said: "He loves cinnabar-refining and drug-compounding, and delights in Daoists of the Complete Perfection school." The Pilgrim said: "No wonder he turned himself into an old Daoist priest and cheated my master away. In that case, your beatings are all stayed on credit—go home. Old Sun will fetch him himself." The gods all soared into the air and scattered.
The Great Sage shook his body and transformed into an old Daoist adept. And how was he dressed?
Head bound in twin tufted knots, Body wrapped in a hundred-patch robe. Hand drumming the fish-drum and bamboo clappers, Waist belted with the Sash of Master Lü. Reclining beside the great road, Waiting for the little demon imps. Within moments the demons arrive— And the Monkey King in secret plays his trick.
Before long the two little demons came along. The Pilgrim stretched out his gold-banded cudgel; the demons, not on their guard, tripped over it and went flop on their faces.
They scrambled up, and only then saw the Pilgrim, and bawled: "Scoundrel! Scoundrel! If our Great King didn't hold your sort in such respect, we'd measure you properly!"
The Pilgrim put on a smile: "Measure what? A Daoist meeting a Daoist—we're all one family." The demon said: "Why were you lying there sleeping, tripping me up?" The Pilgrim said: "When a little Daoist boy sees an old Daoist like me, he must take one tumble to pay his respects." The demon said: "Our Great King asks only a few taels of silver as his courtesy money—and you take a tumble as your courtesy money? You must be from some other district—certainly no Daoist of ours." The Pilgrim said: "Indeed I'm not. I've come from Mount Penglai." The demon said:
"Mount Penglai is the realm of the immortals of the sea islands." The Pilgrim said: "If I'm not an immortal, who is?"
The demon's anger turned to delight, and he came forward: "Old Immortal! Old Immortal! We are but carnal eyes and mortal flesh and could not know you; if our words gave offense, don't hold it against us, don't hold it against us."
The Pilgrim said: "I hold nothing against you. As the saying goes, an immortal body does not tread mortal ground—how would you have known? I have come to your mountain today to save one good man and bring him to immortality and the Way. Which of you will follow me?" Meticulous Sprite said: "Master, I'll follow you." Clever Bug said: "Master, I'll follow you." The Pilgrim, knowing all along, asked anyway: "Where do you two come from?" The demons said: "From Lotus Cave." "And where are you going?"
The demons said: "By our Great King's command, to fetch Sun the Pilgrim."
The Pilgrim said: "Fetch whom?" The demons said again: "Fetch Sun the Pilgrim." Sun the Pilgrim said: "Would that be the Sun the Pilgrim who escorts Tang Sanzang to fetch the scriptures?" The demons said: "The very one, the very one. Do you know him too?" The Pilgrim said: "That ape has no manners. I know him, and I'm rather put out with him. I'll go along and help you catch him—call it my contribution to your success." The demons said: "Master, we don't need your help. Our Second Great King has magic: he moved three mountains and pressed him underneath, and he can't budge an inch. He sent us two to bottle him with the treasures." The Pilgrim said: "What treasures?" Meticulous Sprite said: "Mine is the red gourd, his is the jade vase."
The Pilgrim said: "And how do you bottle him?" The little demons said: "We hold the treasure bottom-up and mouth-down, call his name, and the moment he answers, he's inside. Then we paste on a seal, 'By the urgent command of Lord Lao Zi, as decreed,' and in an hour and three quarters he melts to pus." Hearing this, the Pilgrim was secretly startled: "Formidable! Formidable! The Duty God of the Day gave warning of five treasures. Here are two—I wonder what the other three can be?" He laughed aloud: "Brothers, lend me the treasures to have a look." The little demons, knowing nothing of the trick, drew the two treasures from their sleeves and handed them over with both hands.
The Pilgrim saw them and rejoiced inwardly: "Fine things! Fine things! If I just flipped my tail and sprang away with a whoosh, it would be a gift to old Sun outright."
Then he thought again: "No! No! I could snatch them—but it would ruin old Sun's good name. That would be highway robbery in broad daylight." He handed them back: "And you've never seen my treasure yet." The demons said: "What treasure has the Master? Lend it to us mortals too, to ward off calamity." What a Pilgrim! He reached down, plucked one hair from his tail, twiddled it, and cried "Change!"
It turned into a great purple gold red gourd, a foot and seven inches long, and he brought it out from his waist: "Well? Will you look at my gourd?"
Clever Bug took it in his hands, examined it, and said: "Master, this gourd of yours is big and well-shaped, handsome to see—but it's no use."
The Pilgrim said: "How so, no use?" The demons said: "Each of our two treasures can hold a thousand men." The Pilgrim said: "Man-bottlers—and you think them rare? Why, this gourd of mine can bottle the very heavens inside!" The demons said: "It can bottle Heaven?" The Pilgrim said: "Bottle Heaven in earnest." The demons said: "That we doubt. Bottle it and show us, and then we'll believe—else we never shall." The Pilgrim said: "When Heaven annoys me, I commonly bottle it seven or eight times a month; when it doesn't annoy me, I may go half a year without bottling it once." Clever Bug said: "Brother, a Heaven-bottling treasure—let's trade him for it." Meticulous Sprite said: "His bottles Heaven—would he ever trade it for our man-bottlers?" Clever Bug said: "If he won't—throw in the vase as well." The Pilgrim rejoiced inwardly: "A gourd for a gourd, and the vase thrown in—one for two. That's a bargain indeed!" He stepped forward and seized Clever Bug: "Will you trade for the bottled Heaven?" The demon said: "Bottle it and we trade. If we don't, I'm your son!" The Pilgrim said: "Very well, very well. I'll bottle it and let you watch."
What a Great Sage! He bowed his head, formed a spell-sign, and recited a spell, summoning the Day-Wandering God, the Night-Wandering God, and the Guardians of the Five Quarters: "Go at once and report to the Jade Emperor for me: say that old Sun has turned to the true fruit and escorts Tang Sanzang westward to fetch the scriptures; that a high mountain blocks the road and his master has met bitter peril; that the demon's treasure old Sun wishes to coax away in trade. With ten thousand bows, let Heaven be lent to old Sun to bottle up for half a double-hour, to help him succeed. If there is so much as half a word of refusal, I'll march straight up to the Hall of Divine Mists and start a war!"
The Day-Wandering God went straight through the South Gate of Heaven, below the Hall of Divine Mists, and reported to the Jade Emperor, recounting the whole affair. The Jade Emperor said: "That wild ape-head—his tongue knows no bounds! Before, when Guanyin interceded, I released him to protect Tang Sanzang; I even dispatched the Guardians of the Five Quarters and the Duty Gods of the Four Watches to guard him in rotation. And now he wants to borrow Heaven and bottle it! Can Heaven be bottled?" He had barely said it could not when Prince Nezha stepped out from the ranks and memorialized: "Your Majesty, Heaven can be bottled." The Jade Emperor said: "How can Heaven be bottled?" Nezha said: "Since chaos first divided, the light and pure became Heaven, the heavy and turbid became Earth. Heaven is a mass of pure vapor bearing up the palaces of the azure vault—and by theory it is truly hard to bottle. But Sun the Pilgrim is escorting Tang Sanzang west to fetch the scriptures—this is blessing the weight of Mount Tai, goodness deep as the sea. Today we should help him succeed." The Jade Emperor said: "What help do you propose, my prince?" Nezha said: "Let an edict go down to the North Gate of Heaven to borrow the Black Banner from the True Warrior; spread it over the South Gate of Heaven and shut away the sun, moon, and stars—face to face, no man seen; snatching at white, nothing but black. Then we can fool the demon into thinking Heaven has been bottled, and so help the Pilgrim succeed." Hearing this, the Jade Emperor said: "As you have memorialized, so let it be." The prince took the edict, went to the North Gate of Heaven, saw the True Warrior, and told him the whole affair.
The Patriarch handed the banner to the prince.
By now the wandering god had swiftly descended to the Great Sage's ear: "Prince Nezha has come to help you succeed."
The Pilgrim looked up: auspicious clouds wreathing and coiling—gods indeed. He turned to the little demons: "Now to bottle Heaven." The little demons said: "If you're going to bottle it, bottle it—why all this shilly-shallying?" The Pilgrim said: "I was just then gathering spirit and reciting spells." The little demons all stood wide-eyed, watching how he would bottle Heaven. The Pilgrim flung the sham gourd up into the sky.
Think: it was one hair changed—how much could it weigh?
The wind on the summit caught it and carried it drifting and swaying for a good half double-hour before it came down. And on the South Gate of Heaven, Prince Nezha spread the black banner with a great flapping crackle, shutting away sun, moon, and stars—truly, creation dyed in ink, the universe stained with indigo.
The two little demons were amazed: "When we were talking just now it was barely noon—how has it turned to dusk?"
The Pilgrim said: "Heaven being bottled, there's no telling time—why shouldn't it be dusk?" "And why is it so black?" The Pilgrim said: "Sun, moon, and stars are all bottled inside; outside there's no light. How could it not be black?" The little demons said: "Master, where are you speaking from?"
The Pilgrim said: "Aren't I right in front of you?"
The little demons reached out and touched him: "We hear the words, but see no face. Master, what place is this?" The Pilgrim humbugged them further: "Don't move your feet! This is the shore of the Bo Sea. If your foot slips and you fall, you won't reach bottom for seven or eight days!" The little demons were greatly frightened: "Enough! Enough! Enough! Let Heaven loose! Now we know how it's bottled. If we toy with this any longer, we'll drop into the sea and never get home!" What a Pilgrim! Seeing they took it for real, he recited another spell, stirred the prince, and had the banner rolled up—and at once daylight shone, right high noon.
The little demons laughed: "Wonderful! Wonderful! A treasure like this—if we didn't trade, we'd be no sons of a provident father!"
Meticulous Sprite handed over the gourd, Clever Bug brought out the vase, and together they passed them to the Pilgrim; the Pilgrim handed the sham gourd to the demons.
Having made the trade, the Pilgrim then tied the business off with a knot. He plucked a hair from below his navel, blew on it a breath of immortal air, changed it into a copper coin, and called: "Little boys, take this coin and buy me a sheet of paper."
The little demons said: "What for?" The Pilgrim said: "I'll write you a contract of exchange. You have traded two man-bottling treasures for one Heaven-bottling treasure; lest hearts prove unquiet in after years—time long, days deep, and someone turn repentant—I'll write this, one copy for each to hold as proof." The little demons said: "There's no brush or ink here—what contract could you write? Let's swear an oath instead." The Pilgrim said: "How shall we swear?" The little demons said: "We swear: our two man-bottling treasures, with the vase thrown in, are traded for your one Heaven-bottling treasure. If we repent, may we catch the plague all four seasons of the year!" The Pilgrim laughed: "I shall never repent. If ever I do, may I too catch the plague all four seasons, just like you." The oaths sworn, he sprang up with a whisk of his tail, and leapt before the South Gate of Heaven, thanking Prince Nezha for his help with the banner.
The prince returned to the palace, reported his mission done, and restored the banner to the True Warrior—but of that, no more. And the Pilgrim stood high amid the empyrean, watching the two little demons below.
But how he would deal with them—listen to the explanation in the next chapter.