The story continues: the Great Sage Sun, with no plan left to him, rose on a cloud of auspicious light, mounted his somersault cloud, and headed straight back for the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa, to worship at Mount Wudang and entreat the Demon-Quelling Celestial Venerable, that he might deliver Sanzang, Bajie, the Sha Monk, and the host of heavenly soldiers from their calamity. He never paused in midair, and in less than a day he already caught sight of the Patriarch's immortal land. Gently he brought down his cloud and looked carefully round him. What a place!
A mighty bastion of the southeast, a divine peak at midheaven. Lotus Bud Peak rises sharp and splendid; Purple Canopy Ridge towers grand. The waters of nine rivers find their end here—Jing and Yang lie far away; The hills of a hundred Yue lands join here, and constellations Wing and Axle are many. Above are precious grottoes of the Great Void, the numinous terrace of Zhu and Lu. Thirty-six palaces ring with golden chimes; Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims come up to burn incense. Shun made his progress here; Yu prayed here—with jade tallies and golden books. Blue birds fly among the towers and pavilions; banners stream their crimson hems. Earth set this famous mountain here to awe the universe; Heaven opened an immortal land that pierces the very void. A few trees of langgan plum are just now in bloom; Over all the mountain the jade grasses unfold their colors. Dragons lurk at the bottoms of the ravines; tigers crouch within the cliffs. Secluded valleys murmur as if whispering; tame deer draw near to walk with men. White cranes roost with the clouds in ancient junipers; Blue luan and red phoenixes sing facing the sun. This is the true immortal land of the Master-Minister of Jade Emptiness, The merciful, world-governing gate of the Golden Portal.
This Patriarch, the Lord of the High God, was born of the King of Pure Joy and Queen Shansheng, the Queen of Victorious Goodness. The queen dreamed she swallowed a beam of sunlight, and upon waking found herself with child. She carried the babe fourteen months, and at the hour of Wu on the first day of the third month, in the jia-chen year, the first year of the era Kaihuang, he was born in the royal palace. That worthy—as a child he was brave and daring; grown, he was divine and numinous. He would not take up the throne, but devoted himself wholly to cultivation. His parents could not hold him back: he abandoned the royal palace, plunged into the mysteries, entered into deep meditation here in this mountain. When his work was done and his merit complete, he ascended to heaven in broad daylight. The Jade Emperor bestowed upon him by decree the name Zhenwu—the True Warrior.
Mysterious Void, answering on high; tortoise and serpent joined in one form. Through the whole zodiac and the six directions, all acclaim him Lord of Myriad Numinous Powers. No darkness escapes his inspection; nothing manifest but he brings it to perfection. At every kalpa's end and every kalpa's beginning, he mows down the demon sprites.
The Great Sage Sun, feasting his eyes upon the immortal scenery, soon came to the First, the Second, and the Third Gates of Heaven, and so to the outside of the Palace of Supreme Harmony, where suddenly, amid auspicious light and propicious vapor, he saw five hundred Divine Constables thronging together. One of the constables came forward to meet him: "Who is this that comes?"
"I am the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, Sun Wukong," said the Great Sage, "and I would see the Master-Minister."
The constables, hearing this, went in at once to report. The Patriarch descended from the hall at once and received him into the Palace of Supreme Harmony.
The Pilgrim made his bow: "There is a matter in which I must presume upon you."
"What matter?" asked the Patriarch.
"I am escorting the Tang monk to fetch scriptures from the Western Heaven," said the Pilgrim, "and on the road we have met with peril and disaster. In the Western Continent of Cattle-Gift there is a mountain called the Lesser Western Heaven, and in it the Lesser Thunderclap Monastery, where there dwells a demon. When my master passed within the mountain gate and saw arhats and Revealors, bhikkhus and holy monks ranked in rows, he took them for true Buddhas; but just as he cast himself down to worship, he was seized and bound. Then I, careless in my guard, had a pair of golden cymbals flung over me—a covering without a hair's breadth of seam, closing on me like a vise. It was a great mercy that the Gold-Headed Revealer memorialized the Jade Emperor, who dispatched the twenty-eight constellations down to earth that very night; but they could not pry the cymbals open. Happily the Golden Dragon of the Horn mansion thrust his horn into the cymbal and delivered me out. I smashed the golden cymbals, which startled the monster from his sleep. In the fighting that followed, he flung out a white cloth carrying-bag, and with it bagged me together with the twenty-eight constellations and the Revealors of the Five Quarters, every one of us, and had us bound with cords. That night I escaped, and delivered the constellations and the rest, together with my master and his party. Later, when I went back to search for my robe and bowl, I startled the demon awake again, and there was more battle with the heavenly soldiers. The monster brought out that bag once more, and while he was fiddling and fidgeting with it, I, knowing the trick from before, slipped away—but the others were bagged again, just as before. I have no plan left to me. I have come especially to worship the Master-Minister and beg a helping hand."
The Patriarch said: "In years past I awed the North and held the rank of the True Warrior, mowing down all the demons and monsters of the world—that was by decree of the Jade Emperor. Later, with hair unbound and feet bare, bestrode by the Serpent and the divine Tortoise, I led the five thunder generals, the giant horned dragons and lions, fierce beasts and venomous dragons, and subdued the black demonic miasma of the northeast—that was by summons and talisman of the Celestial Worthy of the Primal Origin. Today I quietly enjoy Mount Wudang and take my ease in the Hall of Supreme Harmony; seas and mountains have long been at peace, and heaven and earth calm and serene. In the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa and the Northern Continent of Kuru alike, the demons have been mowed down and the evil ghosts have hidden their tracks. Now that the Great Sage has descended to visit me, I cannot but act; yet, as there is no decree from the upper world, I dare not stir up arms on my own authority. Were I to dispatch the gods by my own law, I fear the Jade Emperor would call me to account; but to refuse you flatly, Great Sage, would be for me to slight the claims of friendship. I reckon that whatever demons may be on your western road, they are no great plague after all. I will now send the two generals, Tortoise and Snake, together with the five great divine dragons, to strengthen your arm—depend upon it, the demon shall be seized and your master delivered from his trouble."
The Pilgrim bowed his thanks to the Patriarch, and then, together with the Tortoise and Snake generals and the dragon gods, each leading picked and veteran troops, returned to the borders of the Western Continent.
In less than a day they reached the Lesser Thunderclap Monastery, brought down their clouds, and went straight up to the outside of the mountain gate to challenge battle.
Now the story tells how the Yellow-Browed Demon had gathered his host of monsters beneath the precious tower and was saying: "The Pilgrim Sun has not come these two days—he must have gone off somewhere again to borrow troops."
Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when the little fiends at the front gate came rushing in to report: "The Pilgrim has brought several dragon, snake, and tortoise sorts, and they are challenging battle outside the gate!"
"How did that monkey come by dragon, snake, and tortoise followers?" said the demon. "Where in the world do such creatures hail from?" He armed himself at once, marched out through the mountain gate, and shouted on high: "What manner of dragon gods are you, that dare come affront my immortal domain?"
The five dragons and the two generals, fearsome of aspect and brimming with spirit, roared back: "You filthy monster! We are the five dragon gods and the Tortoise and Snake generals who stand before the Hunyuan Patriarch, the Demon-Quelling Celestial Venerable of the Palace of Supreme Harmony on Mount Wudang. Invited hither by the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, and summoned by the talisman of our Celestial Venerable, we have come to seize you, demon! Quickly hand out the Tang monk and the constellations and all the rest, and you shall be spared your death! If not, every monster on this mountain shall have his corpse chopped to splinters, and every hall in this place burned to ashes!"
At these words the monster's heart filled with fury: "What magic power have you beasts, to mouth such boasts! Stand not off! Taste my cudgel!" Then the five dragons rolled up clouds and made rain, and the two generals scattered earth and flung sand; each gripping spear, saber, sword, or halberd, they surged in to attack together, and the Great Sage Sun followed behind, plying his iron cudgel.
What a battle this was! The fierce demon displayed his arms; the Pilgrim had gone begging troops. The fierce demon displayed his arms, usurping the precious tower to counterfeit the Buddha's likeness; the Pilgrim had gone begging troops, journeying far to the precious realm to borrow the dragon gods. Tortoise and Snake beget water and fire; the demon monsters wield their blades. Five dragons come to the western road under heaven's charge; the Pilgrim follows after, all for his master's sake. Sword-light and halberd-gleam sway like lightning in colors; spear-shine and saber-flash glitter like rainbows. This one's wolf-toothed club is tough, short, and supple; that one's gold-banded cudgel follows his fancy like his own heart.
One hears the thudding crashes like firecrackers popping, and the ringing clashes like struck gold. Water and fire come together to punish the monster; blades and weapons swarm and crowd about the demon sprite. Their battle-cries startle the wolves and tigers; the clamor shakes the ghosts and gods. The melee at its very height, still no victor shown—when the demon once more fetches out his treasure and his jewel.
The Pilgrim, commanding the five dragons and two generals, fought the demon through half a double-hour, when the demon untied the carrying-bag and took it in hand.
The Pilgrim saw it, and his heart lurched: "Gentlemen, be careful!" But the dragon gods, the Tortoise, and the Snake did not know what there was to be careful about; one and all they halted their weapons and closed in to shield him. With a whirring whoosh the demon flung the carrying-bag up into the air. The Great Sage Sun could not look after the five dragons and two generals; he mounted his somersault cloud and leapt away into the ninth heaven to escape. And the dragon gods and the Tortoise and Snake were bagged once more—one fling of the bag took them all.
The demon returned to the monastery in triumph, had them bound with cords as well, carried them into the cellar, and covered it over. Of this no more.
Now watch the Great Sage bring down his cloud and slump aslant upon the mountain crest, listless and dull, groaning in bitterness: "This monster is formidable past all bearing!"
Unknowing, he closed his eyes, as if asleep, when suddenly he heard someone call: "Great Sage, don't pretend to sleep! Bestir yourself, and quickly seek rescue! Your master's life hangs upon a moment!"
The Pilgrim's eyes flew open and he leapt up to look: it was the Duty Officer of the Day.
"You shaggy god!" the Pilgrim bawled at him. "Where have you been all this while, gorging yourself on blood offerings, never once showing up for the roll call—and now you come here to startle me! Stretch that ankle of yours over here, and let old Sun give you a couple of cudgel-blows to cheer his gloom!"
The Duty Officer hurriedly made his bow: "Great Sage, you are the Happy Immortal of the world of men—what gloom can you possibly have! We have long been under the Bodhisattva's command to guard the Tang monk in secret, together with the local deities and the other gods, never daring to leave his side for a moment; that is why we could not come constantly to pay our respects. How can you instead lay the blame on us?"
"If you are guarding him," said the Pilgrim, "then where are the constellations, the Revealors, the Guardian Sangharamas, and my master's party now confined by the demon? What torments do they suffer?"
"Your master and your brothers hang bound beneath the corridor of the precious hall," said the Duty Officer, "and the constellations and all the rest are stowed away in the cellar, suffering. These two days we heard no news of the Great Sage; but just now we saw the demon seize the dragon gods, the Tortoise, and the Snake, and carry them too into the cellar, and so I knew they were troops invited by the Great Sage. Your little god has come especially to find you. Great Sage, do not shrink from weariness—by all means hasten once more, urgently, to seek rescue."
At these words the Pilgrim could not hold back, and tears dripped down before the Duty Officer: "Now I am ashamed to climb again to the Palace of Heaven, and shamed to visit the ocean treasury! I dread the Bodhisattva's asking me my reasons; I cannot bear to face the Tathagata's jade image! Those just carried off were the Tortoise, the Snake, and the five dragon saints of the Master-Minister, the True Warrior. If you tell me there is nowhere left to turn for rescue—then what am I to do?"
The Duty Officer laughed: "Great Sage, take heart. Your little god has thought of a band of crack troops: invite them here, and they can surely bring him down. Just now you went to Mount Wudang—that is in the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa. This troop is also in the Southern Continent, at Mount Xuyi and the city of Bin—that is today's Sizhou. There dwells a Great Sage, the National Preceptor King Bodhisattva, whose magic powers are vast. Under him he has a disciple called Little Prince Zhang, and there are also the four great divine generals; in years past they subdued the Water Mother Goddess. If you go now and invite him, and he comes to lend his gracious aid, he can be counted on to seize the monster and save your master."
The Pilgrim's heart lifted: "Go you and guard my master; see that no harm touches him, while old Sun goes to do the inviting."
The Pilgrim mounted his somersault cloud, slipped away from the demon's haunts, and sped straight for Mount Xuyi. In less than a day he arrived, and looked closely. What a fine place! South, it nears the fords of the Great River; north, it overlooks the waters of the Huai. East, it opens upon the ocean's capes; west, it joins with Fengfu. On the mountaintop, towers and abbeys rise craggy and grand; in the mountain hollows, ravine springs surge and well. Grotesque rocks tower and topple; tall pines spread their graceful strength. A hundred fruits hang fresh in their season; a thousand flowering boughs open toward the sun. People thronging to and fro like columns of ants; boats spreading home-bound wide like lines of wild geese.
Above are the Abbey of Auspicious Rock, the Palace of the Eastern Peak, the Shrine of the Five Manifestations, and the Tortoise Mountain Temple, their chime-tones and incense smoke piercing the azure vault; there are also the Glass Spring, the Five-Pagoda Ravine, the Terrace of the Eight Immortals, and the Apricot Garden, their mountain light and tree colors mirrored in the city of Bin. White clouds stretch across and pass not over; secluded birds, weary, still sing on. Why speak of the beauty of Tai, Song, Heng, and Hua? The immortal scenery of this place is very Penglai and Yingzhou.
The Great Sage could not see the half of it. He crossed the Huai River, entered within the city of Bin, and came to the outside of the mountain gate of the Great Sage Chan Monastery, where he saw halls lofty and imposing, long corridors splendid with color, and one precious pagoda towering high. Truly:
A thousand zhang it stands, thrust through the clouds and leaning on the Milky Way; Look up, and its golden vase shines through the azure sky. Above and below, its radiance congeals the very universe; East and west, its shadowless brightness lights the curtained lattices. Wind blows its precious bells—one hears the music of Heaven; Sunlight on its icy dragon faces the Buddhist palace. The numinous birds that fly and roost there pour out their speech from time to time; Gaze far toward the Huai River—boundless, without end.
Looking as he walked, the Pilgrim came at last to the second gate. The National Preceptor King Bodhisattva had known of his coming long before, and came out at once with Little Prince Zhang to welcome him. When they had met and exchanged courtesies, the Pilgrim said: "I am escorting the Tang monk to the Western Heaven for the scriptures. On the road there is a Lesser Thunderclap Monastery, and in it a Yellow-Browed Monster who counterfeits the Lord Buddha. My master, unable to tell the true from the false, bowed down to him and was seized. Then the monster clapped the golden cymbals over me; happily the constellations came down from Heaven and got me out. I smashed the golden cymbals and did battle with him, and then with a cloth carrying-bag he bagged the heavenly gods, the Revealors, the Guardian Sangharamas, together with my master and my brothers, every last one. I went before to Mount Wudang to beg rescue from the Emperor of the Dark Heavens, and he dispatched the five dragons and the Tortoise and Snake to take the monster—but they too were bagged by one fling of that bag. Your disciple has nothing left to lean upon; therefore I come to worship and entreat the Bodhisattva to unfold his mighty power, and with the same divine might that took in the Water Mother, the wondrous art that delivers the living, to go with your disciple and save my master from this calamity! When the scriptures are fetched back, they shall be handed down forever in the Middle Kingdom, spreading abroad the wisdom of our Buddha and advancing the paramitas of prajna."
The National Preceptor King said: "This business of yours today is truly for the flourishing of our Buddhist teaching, and by rights I ought to go myself. But the season is early summer, the very time when the Huai waters rise in flood, and I have but newly taken in the Water Ape Great Sage. That rascal stirs himself up whenever he meets water; I fear that once I am gone, he will seize the empty chance to play his wicked tricks, and there would be no god to check him. I shall send my little disciple at the head of the four generals to add their strength to yours, to refine the demon out and take him captive."
The Pilgrim gave his thanks, and together with the four generals and Little Prince Zhang mounted the clouds once more and returned to the Lesser Western Heaven, going straight to the Lesser Thunderclap Monastery. Little Prince Zhang wielded a white paper-mulberry spear; the four great generals swung four Kunwu swords; and with the Great Sage Sun they advanced to hurl curses and challenge battle.
The little fiends ran again to report, and the demon king once more led his host of monsters out with drumming and shouting: "Macaque! Whom have you fetched for yourself this time?"
Scarcely were the words out when Little Prince Zhang directed the four generals forward, and they bawled: "Filthy demon! There's no flesh on your face—no wonder you never knew we were here!"
"What quarter's little general is this," said the demon king, "that dares come lend him a hand?"
"I am the disciple of the Great Sage, the National Preceptor King Bodhisattva of Sizhou," said the prince, "commanding the four great divine generals, under orders to seize you!"
The demon king laughed: "What martial skill has a child like you, that you dare come here and fling your impudence about?"
"You wish to know my martial skill?" said the prince. "Hear me tell it:
My ancestral home was in the west, the kingdom of Drifting Sands; My father was in truth the king of that sand realm. From childhood my body was plagued with sickness and pain, My fate crossed by the Canopy, that baleful star. Because I yearned toward my master for the secret of long life, By destiny we met, and he bestowed on me the prescription. Half a grain of cinnabar drove my sickness away; I chose to follow cultivation, and not to be a king. What I have learned knows no aging; my span is one with Heaven's; My face forever keeps a young man's look. I have hastened to the Dragon-flower Assembly; I have ridden the clouds into the halls of Buddha. I have seized fog and caught the wind, and gathered in the water monsters; I have trapped dragons and tamed tigers, and awed the mountain wilds. Pitying the people, I raised the Buddhist pagoda high; Still on the sea, I deeply understood the light of the relics. My white paper-mulberry spear-point can bind a monster fast; My pale black sleeves bring demons low. Now dwelling quiet and glad within the city of Bin, Through all the great earth spreads the name—Little Zhang!"
Hearing this, the demon king gave a cold little laugh: "Prince! You gave up your kingdom to follow that National Preceptor King Bodhisattva—and what art of ageless immortality did you cultivate? Art good enough for capturing water monsters of the Huai River! Yet how could you swallow the lying nonsense of the Pilgrim Sun, and cross a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers to come here and deliver up your life! We shall see whether you are immortal and ageless or not!"
Little Prince Zhang heard, and his heart blazed with fury. He coiled his spear and stabbed straight at the demon's face; the four great generals surged in to attack together; and the Great Sage Sun came forward plying his iron cudgel. What a demon! He stood his ground without a flicker of fear: swinging his short, supple wolf-toothed club, he parried left and warded right, thrust straight and charged crosswise. What a battle!
The little prince, with his white paper-mulberry spear; Four Kunwu swords, and stronger still. Wukong plies his gold-banded cudgel once more; With one heart they close around to slay the demon king. The demon king's magic power is truly vast: Not a shade of fear as he wards and parries every blow. The wolf-toothed club is a treasure of the Buddhas— Sword-hacks and spear-swings cannot wound it at all. One hears the wild wind howl and roar; One sees the baleful miasma roll and spread. That one, his heart set on his foolish game, displays his skills; This one, his whole mind on Buddha and the fetching of the scriptures. Time after time they charge; again and again they rage. They spew forth clouds and mist and blot the three lights, Each in fury and wrath, neither one better than the other. Long since the three vehicles, the unexcelled Law, Have brought a hundred arts to this bitter contest.
The whole company fought a long while, with neither victory nor defeat, when the demon untied his carrying-bag once again.
The Pilgrim shouted again: "Gentlemen, be careful!" But the prince and all the rest did not grasp what "careful" meant. With a swish the monster flung the bag, and the four great generals and the prince were bagged, all in one fling. Only the Pilgrim, forewarned, had slipped away and escaped. The demon king returned to the monastery in triumph, had them bound with cords, sent them into the cellar, and sealed and locked it fast. Of this no more.
This Pilgrim mounted his somersault cloud and rose into the air; only when he saw the monster march his troops back and shut his gates did he press down his auspicious light and stand upon the western slope, gazing in despair and weeping aloud:
"Master! Ever since I embraced the teaching and entered the Chan grove, I have owed the Bodhisattva a deep debt of deliverance. Guarding you westward to seek the Great Way, I hoped as your fellow to escort you up to the Thunderclap. I thought the sheep-track path would run but smooth and plain— Who could have dreamed these towering heights held monsters in wait? With a hundred plans and a thousand shifts I cannot save you; Begging east and pleading west is all labor spent in vain!"
Just at the depth of the Great Sage's desolation, he suddenly saw a many-colored cloud in the southwest sink down to earth, and a rich rain came drifting over the whole mountaintop, and someone called: "Wukong, do you know me?"
The Pilgrim hurried forward to look, and this was the person:
Great ears spread across his cheeks, a face both square and full; Shoulders thrown wide, belly rounded, a body plump and fat. One whole breast brimming with the joy of spring; Two eyes like autumn ripples, swaying full of light. Open sleeves float free—an air of easy blessing; Straw sandals, loose and jaunty—a spirit hale and strong. Foremost of all the worthies in the Land of Bliss: Homage to Maitreya, the Laughing Monk!
When the Pilgrim saw him, he hastened to kneel and worship: "Buddha come from the East, whither are you bound? Your disciple failed to withdraw from your path—ten thousand crimes! Ten thousand crimes!"
"I have come this time," said the Buddha, "for the sake of this monster of the Lesser Thunderclap."
"Much am I bound to your Lordship's abundant virtue and great kindness," said the Pilgrim. "May I be bold to ask—this demon, of what quarter is he? A sprite of what place? And what treasure can that carrying-bag of his be? I must trouble your Lordship to enlighten me."
"He is a yellow-browed boy who tends the chimes before me," said the Buddha. "On the third day of the third month, because I had gone to the assembly of the Primal Origin, I left him behind to watch the palace. He made off with these few treasures of mine, set himself up as a false Buddha, and turned demon. That carrying-bag is my Posterior-Heaven bag, commonly called the human-race bag. And that wolf-toothed club is a mallet for striking the chimes."
When the Pilgrim heard this, he lifted his voice and cried: "What a Laughing Monk! You let the boy run off, let him pass himself off as the Lord Buddha and entrap old Sun—surely there is a fault here, a want of strictness in the household discipline!"
"For one thing, it is true I was careless and lost one of my household," said Maitreya. "For another, the demon-ordeals of you master and disciples are not yet finished; thus the hundred numinous spirits have come down into the world, and you were bound to suffer your tribulation. I have come now to take him in for you."
"This demon's magic powers are vast," said the Pilgrim, "and you, sir, have not a single weapon about you. How will you take him?"
Maitreya laughed: "Below on this hillside I have set up a thatched hut and planted a field of melons. Go you and challenge him to battle. When you join the fight, you may lose but may not win; lure him into my melon field. All my other melons are green, but you shall change yourself into one great ripe melon. When he comes and must have a melon to eat, I shall give him you to eat. Once you are down inside his belly, do whatever you please to him in there; and then, when I have taken his carrying-bag from him, we shall bag him up and carry him back."
"The plan is clever enough," said the Pilgrim, "but how will you know the changed ripe melon? And why should he be willing to follow me here?"
Maitreya laughed: "I am the Honored One who governs the world; my wisdom-eye is high and clear—how could I fail to know you! Whatever you may change into, I know it. My only fear is that the monster will not follow. So I shall teach you a spell."
"He is dead certain to try to bag me with that carrying-bag," said the Pilgrim. "Why should he follow! What spell could make him come?"
Maitreya laughed: "Hold out your hand." The Pilgrim stretched out his left hand and passed it over, and Maitreya dipped the forefinger of his right hand in divine water from his mouth, wrote on the Pilgrim's palm the character "Forbid," and told him to clench his fist: when he stood face to face with the demon, he was to let the fist fly open, and the demon would follow.
The Pilgrim clenched his fist, happily accepting the instruction, and with one hand swinging his iron cudgel went straight to the outside of the mountain gate, calling at the top of his voice: "Demon! Your Grandpa Sun is here again! Come out quickly, and let us see which of us is master!"
The little fiends again ran helter-skelter to report. "How many troops has he brought to challenge this time?" asked the demon king.
"No troops at all," said the fiends. "Only him, alone."
The demon king laughed: "That monkey has run out of tricks and spent his strength; there is nowhere left for him to turn. Beyond all doubt he has come to deliver up his life." So once more he armed himself smartly, took his treasure, raised that light and supple wolf-toothed club, marched out, and stood shouting: "Sun Wukong! This time there is no wriggling free for you!"
"Filthy monster!" the Pilgrim cursed. "Why should I not wriggle free?"
"I have watched you," said the demon king, "run out of tricks and spend your strength, with nowhere to turn for help, forcing yourself to hold on all alone. Now that you are taken, there will never be another squad of divine soldiers to rescue you—that is why I say you cannot wriggle free this time."
"This monster doesn't know death when it grins at him!" said the Pilgrim. "Save your chatter! Taste my cudgel!"
When the demon king saw him swinging his cudgel with one hand only, he could not help laughing: "Look at that monkey, showing off his cleverness! How does he expect to manage, wielding a cudgel with a single hand?"
"Sonny!" said the Pilgrim. "You couldn't stand up to two hands of mine! If you'll keep that carrying-bag out of it, you could bring on three or five more like yourself, and old Sun's one hand would still be too much for the lot of you!"
At this the demon king said: "So be it! So be it! I'll use no treasure now; we shall fight it out honestly, hand to hand, and see which of us is cock and which is hen." And he raised his wolf-toothed club and came forward to fight.
The Pilgrim Sun met him face to face, let fly open his fist, and swung his cudgel with both hands. Under the spell of "Forbid," the demon could not bring himself to fall back; and sure enough, he did not reach for the carrying-bag, but pressed on with his club alone, chasing hard. The Pilgrim feinted once, broke off as though beaten, and ran; and the demon chased him headlong all the way down to the foot of the western slope.
The Pilgrim saw the melon field, gave a roll, burrowed in among the vines, and changed at once into one great ripe melon, ripe and sweet. The demon halted and looked all round, not knowing which way the Pilgrim had gone, and chased his way to the side of the hut, calling: "Who planted these melons?"
Maitreya had changed himself into an old melon farmer; he came out of the thatched hut and answered: "Great King, the melons are my humble planting."
"Have you any that are ripe?" asked the demon king.
"There are ripe ones," said Maitreya.
"Pick me a ripe one," called the demon king. "I am parched."
Maitreya at once took the melon that was the Pilgrim changed, and handed it to the demon king with both hands. The demon king, suspecting nothing at all, took it in hand and bit straight in.
The Pilgrim seized his chance: with one swallow he slid down beneath the demon's gullet, and without waiting for better or worse he fell to working his hands and feet—clawing the guts, scratching the belly, turning somersaults, standing on his hands—working his will inside him however he pleased. The demon rolled and writhed with the pain, gnashing his teeth and twisting his mouth, eyes brimming with tears, until he had threshed that whole melon patch like a grain-flailing floor, crying out all the while: "Enough! Enough! Will no one save me!"
Then Maitreya showed forth his true form and called out with a chuckle: "Wicked beast! Do you know me?"
The demon lifted his head and saw him, and in terror he dropped to his knees, kneading his belly with both hands, knocking his head and beating his brow, crying only: "Master! Spare my life! Spare my life! Never again! Never again!"
Maitreya stepped forward, seized him with one grip, untied the Posterior-Heaven bag from him, and wrested away his chime-striking mallet, calling: "Sun Wukong, for my sake, spare his life."
The Pilgrim's hatred and bitterness were past allaying: he went on hammering and punching away inside, left fist and right foot, punching and pummeling at random, until the monster, unable to endure the agony, collapsed upon the ground.
Maitreya said again: "Wukong, he has had enough of it; spare him now."
Only then did the Pilgrim call out: "Open your mouth wide, and let old Sun come out." Though the demon's belly was wrung with cramps, the hurt had not yet reached his heart. As the proverb says: until the heart is wounded, no man dies; when flowers wither and leaves fall, it is the root gone dry. Hearing the call to open his mouth, he bore the pain and stretched his jaws wide.
The Pilgrim at last leapt out, showed his true form, and was just snatching up his cudgel to strike again when the Buddha packed the demon into the bag, slung it aslant across his waist, took the chime-mallet in hand, and scolded: "Wicked beast! Where have you smuggled the golden cymbals off to?"
The demon, wanting only to be spared, whined and blubbered from inside the Posterior-Heaven bag: "The golden cymbals were smashed by Sun Wukong."
"If the cymbals are smashed, then give me back my gold," said the Buddha.
"The broken gold is heaped upon the lotus throne in the hall," said the demon.
The Buddha took up the bag and the chime-mallet and called out with a chuckle: "Wukong, come with me to seek out my gold and repay me." Seeing such magic power, how could the Pilgrim dare disobey or delay? He could only lead the Buddha up the mountain and back into the monastery, to gather up the gold fragments. The mountain gate stood shut fast; the Buddha pointed once with the mallet, the gates flew open, and as they went in and looked about, all the little fiends—having learned that their old master was taken—were each and all gathering up the bottoms of their bundles, meaning to flee and scatter for their lives.
But the Pilgrim, sighting one, struck one dead; sighting two, struck two dead; until five or six hundred little fiends were beaten to death, every single one, and each showed forth his original form: they were all mountain sprites and tree monsters, beast fiends and bird demons.
The Buddha gathered the gold together into one heap, blew upon it a breath of immortal air, recited a word of spell, and at once it returned to its root and restored its source: a whole pair of golden cymbals was made good again. Then he took leave of the Pilgrim, mounted his auspicious cloud, and returned straightaway to the World of Bliss.
Only then did the Great Sage loose and bring down Tang Sanzang, Bajie, and the Sha Monk. That blockhead, hung up for days on end and famished with hunger, did not even stop to thank the Great Sage: he simply doubled over like a shrimp and scurried off to the kitchen to hunt for food. As it happened, the monster had just now laid out the midday meal, and because of the Pilgrim's challenges had not yet gotten to eat it. When the blockhead saw it, he ate half a pot on the spot, then ladled out two full basins and bade his master and brothers eat two bowls each, and only after that did he give the Pilgrim his thanks.
When they asked about the whole story of the demon, the Pilgrim gave a full account: how he had first begged the Tortoise and the Snake from the Patriarch, then borrowed the prince from the Great Sage Bodhisattva, and how Maitreya had come at last to take the monster captive.
Hearing this, Sanzang gave thanks beyond all measure, bowed in highest worship to all the heavens, and said: "Disciple, where are those divine worthies confined?"
"Yesterday the Duty Officer of the Day told old Sun," said the Pilgrim, "that they are all in the cellar." Then he called: "Bajie, come with me to set them loose."
The blockhead, strong now that he had eaten, gathered up his spirit, found his rake, and went with the Great Sage around to the rear. They broke open the cellar, untied the cords from the whole company, and brought them out beneath the precious tower. Sanzang threw his cassock over his shoulders and, facing them, bowed his thanks one by one. Then the Great Sage escorted the five dragons and two generals back to Wudang, saw Little Prince Zhang and the four generals back to the city of Bin, and afterward saw the twenty-eight constellations home to the heavenly palace, and dismissed the Revealors and Guardian Sangharamas each to his own domain.
Master and disciples then rested at their ease half a day, fed the white horse its fill, and packed the luggage; the next morning early they set out upon the road. As they departed, they set a fire and burned every precious tower and jeweled dais, every high pavilion and lecture hall, utterly to ashes. And only then:
Free of every tie, they fled from their troubles away; Their plagues and obstacles dissolved, they journeyed on their way.
But how long it would be before they reached the Great Thunderclap—listen to the explanation in the next chapter.