The story continues: The Great Sage Sun entered the cave mouth and looked to both sides. This is what he saw:
Skulls piled like ridges, bones strewn like forests. Human hair trodden into felt, human skin and flesh rotted into dust and mud. Human sinews wrapped around trees, dried stiff and shining like silver. Truly a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood—the stench was past bearing. On the east side, little demons were butchering live humans for their flesh; on the west, savage fiends were cooking human meat, fresh-boiled and fresh-roasted. Had it not been the Handsome Monkey King with his heroic courage, no ordinary mortal could ever have set foot inside their gate.
Before long he had passed through the second gate, and he looked: my! Here it was different from outside—pure and elegant, fair and spacious. On either side grew fairy grass and immortal flowers; before and behind stood tall pines and emerald bamboo. He walked another seven or eight li before reaching the third gate. Dodging to one side, he stole a glance: up above sat three old demons, fiercely hideous.
The one in the middle looked like this:
Chisel fangs and saw teeth, round head and square face. His roar was like thunder, his gaze like lightning. His nose tilted up toward heaven, his red eyebrows streamed like flame. Wherever he walked, all beasts panicked with fear; Whenever he sat, every demon's courage quaked. This one was the king of beasts—the Azure-Maned Lion monster.
The one on the left looked like this:
Phoenix eyes with golden pupils, yellow tusks and thick legs. Long nose and silver hair, his head and tail much alike. Round forehead, wrinkled brow, a body massive and grand. His voice was fine as a lovely lady's, His face was like an ox-headed fiend's. This one was the Yellow-Tusked Old Elephant, who had cultivated his conduct for many years.
The one on the right looked like this:
Head of the golden-winged Kun, eyes of a leopard starred with light. Shaking the north, he schemes for the south—fierce, resolute, and brave. Transformed, he soars; he mocks the quail and makes the dragon despair. Folding his wind-quills, all birds hide their heads; Stretching his sharp talons, every fowl loses courage. This one was the Great Peng of Ten Thousand Li in the Clouds.
[Translator's note: the Kun is a legendary giant fish from ancient mythology that transforms into the Peng, a colossal bird.]
Below them on either side stood some hundred-odd leaders of greater and lesser rank, every one fully armed and armored, helmets and cuirasses in fine order, terrible in majesty, reeking of slaughter.
When the Pilgrim saw this he was inwardly delighted, and not in the least afraid. With great strides he walked straight through the gate, set down his clapper and bell, and called upward: "Great Kings!"
The three old demons laughed and asked: "Little Wind-Chaser, you've returned?"
"I've returned," the Pilgrim answered.
"You went to scout the mountain—what news of Sun the Pilgrim?"
"Great Kings above," said the Pilgrim, "I wouldn't dare say."
"Why wouldn't you dare say?"
"I was carrying out your orders," said the Pilgrim, "beating my clapper and ringing my bell as I walked along, when I suddenly looked up and saw a man squatting there honing a pole. He looked like a road-opening god. If he stood up, he'd be ten-odd zhang tall! He scooped water from the stream by the crag, ground his weapon on it a stroke or two, and muttered: 'Ah, my pole! It's been an age since I brought you out to show your powers. On this trip, were there a hundred thousand demons, you'd kill them all for me! When I've slain those three demon chiefs, I'll offer sacrifice to you!' And before he's done honing it bright, he means to start by crushing the ten thousand fiends at your gate! I knew it was Sun the Pilgrim, and came straight back to report."
When the old demon heard this, sweat drenched his whole body. Trembling with fear, he said: "Brothers, I said we shouldn't provoke the Tang Priest! His disciple has vast magic powers—he's already made preparations, honing his staff to strike us down. What are we to do?" He called: "Little ones! Summon every last one from outside, great and small, into the cave. Shut the doors! Let him pass!"
Among the leaders, those who knew reported: "Great King, the little demons outside have all scattered."
"How—scattered?" cried the old demon. "They must have heard the bad news! Quick, shut the doors! Quick, shut the doors!" The demons slammed both front and rear doors, bolting them tight.
The Pilgrim thought to himself: "Now that the doors are shut, if he asks me about family details, I won't be able to answer. Won't that give me away and get me caught? I'd better scare him some more and make him open the doors, so I can run."
He stepped forward again: "Great King, what he said was even worse than that."
"What else did he say?" asked the old demon.
"He said he'd peel the First Great King's skin, scrape the Second Great King's bones, and pull the Third Great King's sinews. And if you close the doors and won't come out, he can transform—into a fly, for instance—and fly in through the crack, and carry us all out one by one. What then?"
The old demon said: "Brothers, be careful! There's never been a fly in our cave. If a fly comes in, it's Sun the Pilgrim!"
The Pilgrim laughed inwardly: "I'll turn into a fly and scare him, so he opens the door." The Great Sage slipped to one side, reached behind his head, plucked a single hair, blew on it with immortal breath, and cried "Change!" It became a golden fly, and he flew it straight at the old demon's face, bumping him on the nose.
The old demon panicked: "Brothers! Bad business! That fellow has come in the door!"
The fiends, great and small, were so startled that one and all they seized rakes and brooms and rushed forward to swat the fly. The Great Sage couldn't help himself—he laughed out loud.
Now, it was ill-advised of him to laugh. That laugh let out his true face, and the Third Great King leaped forward, seized him, and cried: "Brothers! We nearly let him fool us!"
The old demon said: "Worthy brother, who's fooling whom?"
The Third King said: "That little fiend who just reported—the one who answered our questions—he isn't Little Wind-Chaser. He's Sun the Pilgrim himself! He must have run into the real Little Wind-Chaser and killed him somehow, then transformed himself to come deceive us!"
The Pilgrim panicked: "He's recognized me!" He felt himself all over and said to the old demon: "How am I Sun the Pilgrim? I'm Little Wind-Chaser! The Great King has mistaken me."
The old demon laughed: "Brother, he is Little Wind-Chaser. He reports for duty three times a day, right here in front of me. I know him." Then he asked: "Do you have a badge?"
"I do," said the Pilgrim.
He pulled aside his garment and brought out the badge. The old demon examined it and was all the more certain: "Brother, don't wrong him."
The Third King said: "Brother, you didn't see what I saw. Just now, when he dodged aside and laughed, I saw him flash a Thunder God's mouth. And when I grabbed him, he shifted into this appearance again." He called: "Little ones, bring rope!"
The leaders brought rope at once. The Third King wrestled the Pilgrim to the ground, hogtied him with four hooves gathered, lifted his shirt to look, and there, sure enough, was the body of the Bimawen. For the Pilgrim's nature was such that he knew seventy-two transformations: when he changed into birds, beasts, flowers, trees, vessels, or insects, his whole body went along with the change. But when he changed into a person, only his head and face changed; his body stayed the same—truly a coat of yellow fur, two red buttocks, and a tail.
The old demon looked and said: "It's Sun the Pilgrim's body with Little Wind-Chaser's face. It's him all right!" He called: "Little ones, bring out wine first, and pour the Third Great King a cup of triumph! Since we've caught Sun the Pilgrim, the Tang Priest is surely our meat to eat."
The Third King said: "Not so fast with the wine. Sun the Pilgrim is slippery—he knows the arts of escape. I'm afraid he'll get away. Have the little ones bring out the vase. Put Sun the Pilgrim inside it, and then we can drink at ease."
The old demon laughed: "Exactly! Exactly!" He dispatched thirty-six little fiends to open the storehouse and bring out the vase.
And how big was this vase? Only two feet and four inches tall. How could it take thirty-six men to carry? That vase was a treasure of yin and yang, the two qi. Inside it were the Seven Treasures, the Eight Trigrams, and the Twenty-Four Qi. It required thirty-six bearers, matching the number of the Heavenly Dipper Stars, before it could be moved.
Before long, the precious vase was brought out and set outside the third gate. They wiped it clean, lifted the lid, untied the Pilgrim's bonds, stripped off his clothes, and—wafted by the immortal breath within the vase—with a swoosh he was sucked inside. The lid was clamped down, the seal pasted on, and they went off to drink, saying: "You monkey, now you're in our precious vase! Forget about the road to the Western Heaven! If you'd still worship the Buddha and seek the scriptures, you'd have to turn the wheel of rebirth and go be born all over again!"
The fiends, great and small, all laughed and went off to celebrate the triumph. Let us leave them for now.
Now the Great Sage, once inside the vase, found his body constricted small by the treasure. He simply transformed and squatted in the middle.
After a while it was still quite cool and shaded. He burst out laughing: "This demon has a great name but nothing real behind it! He goes about telling people that this vase dissolves a man into pus and blood in an hour and three quarters. At this rate of coolness, I could live in here seven or eight years with no trouble!"
Ha! The Great Sage did not know the true nature of that treasure. If a man was put inside and said nothing for a year, it would stay cool and shaded for a year. But the moment human speech was heard, fire would come. The Great Sage had not finished speaking when the entire vase filled with flames.
Fortunately, he had the skill: he sat in the middle, pinching the fire-avoiding sign, and was wholly unafraid. After half a watch, forty snakes bored out from all four sides and tried to bite him.
The Pilgrim swung his arms, grabbed them, and with all his strength squeezed—each snake snapped into two pieces, all forty making eighty.
A short while later, three fire dragons came forth and wound themselves around the Pilgrim, top and bottom, until he could hardly bear it. Panic seized him. "Other things I can manage," he said, "but these three fire dragons are too much. If I stay in here much longer, the fire will attack my heart. What then?"
He thought: "Let me stretch my body and push through—break the thing!" Marvelous Great Sage! He pinched the sign, recited a spell, and cried "Grow!" In an instant he grew a dozen-odd zhang tall. But the vase clung tight to his body and grew along with him. He shrank himself down, and the vase shrank right along.
The Pilgrim's heart went cold: "Hard! Hard! Hard! How can it grow when I grow, and shrink when I shrink? What's to be done?"
Before he could say more, his ankle bone began to hurt. He reached down to feel it—it had been softened by the fire! He groaned in anguish: "What's to be done? My ankle's been burned soft! I'll be a cripple!" He couldn't help the tears rolling down.
Truly:
Meeting demons, enduring torment, he thought of Sanzang; Facing disaster, in peril, he worried for the holy monk.
"Master!" he cried. "Years ago, when I turned to the faith, Guanyin persuaded me to do good and freed me from Heaven's punishment. With you I have toiled over mountain after mountain, subduing and destroying many a monster, winning over Bajie, taking in the Sha Monk. Through a thousand hardships, I hoped to witness the Western Paradise and attain the true fruit together with you. Who could have foreseen that today I would meet these vicious demons? Old Sun has stumbled into this place and lost my life, leaving you stranded halfway up the mountain, unable to go forward! It must be that my fame was too great in former days, and so this calamity has come upon me!"
In the midst of his grief, he suddenly remembered that years ago, on Snake-Coil Mountain, the Bodhisattva Guanyin had given him three life-saving hairs. He didn't know whether they were still there—he'd better search and see.
He reached all over his body, felt around, and there, at the back of his head, were three hairs, stiff and rigid. Joy leapt in him: "The hair all over my body is soft and fine, but these three are stiff as pikes. They must be the ones to save my life!"
He grit his teeth, bore the pain, plucked the hairs, blew on them with immortal breath, and cried "Change!" One became a diamond drill, one a bamboo strip, and one a cotton cord.
He bent the bamboo strip into a bow, threaded the drill with the cord, and set to work on the bottom of the vase—drilling with a rapid swish-swish until he'd bored a hole, letting in a gleam of light. "What luck! What luck!" he cried. "I can get out!"
He transformed and slipped out of his body-shape, and the vase turned cool again. How did it turn cool? Because he had drilled through it, the yin-yang breath had leaked out, and so it cooled.
Marvelous Great Sage! He gathered up his hairs, shrank his body, and changed into a tiny gnat, light as could be—fine as a thread of hair, long as an eyebrow. He crept out through the hole, but instead of fleeing, he flew straight up and perched on the old demon's head. The old demon was drinking wine when he suddenly set down his cup and said: "Third Brother, has Sun the Pilgrim dissolved by now?"
The Third King laughed: "Give it until this time!"
The old demon ordered them to bring up the vase. The thirty-six little fiends came to lift it, and the vase was much lighter. The little fiends scrambled to report: "Great King, the vase is light!"
"Nonsense!" the old demon barked. "The treasure embodies the full power of yin and yang—how could it be light?"
One bolder little fiend hauled the vase up and said: "Look—is this not lighter?"
The old demon lifted the lid and looked: inside, it was bright and clear through. He couldn't help crying out: "This vase is empty—empty!"
The Great Sage, perched on his head, couldn't resist calling out: "My son! Gone—gone!"
The demons heard and cried: "He's gone! He's gone!" Orders went out: "Shut the doors! Shut the doors!"
The Pilgrim gave his body a shake, gathered up his stolen clothes, revealed his true form, and bounded out of the cave.
He turned and cursed: "Don't be impudent, you demons! The vase is drilled through—won't hold anyone now! It's only fit for a piss-pot!"
Merry and boisterous, he rode his cloud and sped straight back to the Tang Priest. The elder was just then scooping up earth for incense and praying toward the heavens. The Pilgrim paused his cloud and listened to what the elder prayed.
The elder pressed his palms together and said to Heaven: "I pray to the immortals of the cloud and haze, to the Six Dings and Six Jias and all the heavenly gods. Protect my good disciple Sun Wukong, whose magic is vast and whose power knows no bounds."
Hearing these words, the Great Sage redoubled his effort. He gathered in his cloud-light, came forward, and called: "Master, I'm here!"
The elder held onto him: "Wukong, you've been toiling! You went far to scout the mountain and were gone so long—I was worried. What fortune or misfortune is there in this mountain, truly?"
The Pilgrim laughed: "Master, on this trip of mine—first, the monks of the eastern lands have fate and a share of destiny; second, your merit and virtue are boundless; and third, you owe something to your disciple's magic powers!" He recounted in detail the whole affair: disguising himself as Wind-Chaser, falling into the vase, and escaping. "To see your honored face again today—I'm a man born twice over!"
The elder thanked him without end: "But did you not fight the demons?"
"I did not," said the Pilgrim.
"Then you can't guarantee me safe passage over this mountain?"
The Pilgrim, proud of spirit, cried: "How can you say I can't guarantee your passage?"
The elder said: "You haven't met them in a contest of victory and defeat. With things so unsettled, how dare I go forward?"
The Great Sage laughed: "Master, you are too inflexible. As the saying goes, 'A single thread makes no cord, and one hand claps no sound.' Those demons are three, and their little fiends are in the thousands. How do you expect old Sun alone to fight them?"
The elder said: "The few cannot match the many, and you'd be hard-pressed alone. Bajie and the Sha Monk also have their skills. Let them all go with you, and work together with one heart to sweep the mountain road clear and see me through."
The Pilgrim pondered: "Master's words are most reasonable. Sha Monk, you protect him; Bajie, you come with me."
The idiot panicked: "Brother, you've no eye for people! I'm big and clumsy, with no special skill. Walking, I just catch the wind. What good would I be going with you?"
"Brother," said the Pilgrim, "you may not have much skill, but you're still a person, after all. As the saying goes, even a fart adds to the wind—you'd lend me some courage."
Bajie said: "Very well, very well. Just don't play any tricks on me when the going gets rough."
The elder said: "Bajie, be careful. The Sha Monk and I will wait here."
The idiot roused his spirit, bounded with the Pilgrim on a wild wind, rode the clouds and mist, and leaped up onto the high mountain. When they reached the cave mouth, they found the doors shut tight, not a soul in sight.
The Pilgrim stepped forward, gripped his iron staff, and called out in a loud voice: "Demons, open up! Come out and fight old Sun!"
The little fiends inside reported. The old demon, his heart pounding, said: "For years they've said the monkey is fierce—the talk is no lie! He's the real thing!"
The Second Great King asked from beside: "Brother, what do you mean?"
The old demon said: "That Pilgrim came this morning disguised as Little Wind-Chaser and we couldn't tell him apart. Lucky for us, the Third Worthy Brother recognized him and we put him in the vase. But he used his tricks, drilled a hole through the vase, made off with his clothes, and now he's outside challenging us! Who dares to go out and fight the first round?"
Not a single one answered. He asked again, and again no one answered—all playing deaf and dumb.
The old demon flew into a rage: "We've made a name for ourselves on the great western road, and for Sun the Pilgrim to slight us like this—if I don't go out and face him in battle, our reputation will sink. Let me risk this old life of mine and fight him three rounds! If I can last three rounds, the Tang Priest is ours to eat. If I can't, then we'll shut the doors and let him pass."
He put on his armor and went out the door.
The Pilgrim and Bajie watched from beside the gate. What a monster he was! Just look:
Iron brow and copper head, he wore a precious helm, Its plume dancing wildly, bright and gleaming. His eyes flashed like lightning, twin lights ablaze; His temples flew with sunset colors. Claws like silver, sharp and pointed, Saw teeth like chisels, close and even. Golden armor on his body, not a seam to be seen, A dragon sash at his waist, finely wrought. In his hand a steel blade, bright and gleaming— A hero fierce, rare in all the world!
With one shout like a thunderclap, he demanded: "Who is it that knocks at the door?"
The Great Sage turned and said: "It is your Grandpa Sun, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven!"
The old demon laughed: "You're Sun the Pilgrim? You brazen monkey! I never provoked you—why do you come challenging at my gate?"
The Pilgrim said: "Where there's wind, waves rise; where there's no tide, the water stays still. If you hadn't provoked me, would I have come seeking you? It's because you and your pack of foxes and hounds have banded together to scheme after my master's flesh that I've come here to deal with you."
The old demon said: "Coming at my door with all this bluster—are you looking to fight?"
"Exactly," said the Pilgrim.
The old demon said: "Don't be so cocky! If I were to muster my demon troops, set out a battle formation, wave banners and beat drums, and fight you in full array, it would look as though I were a home-body tiger bullying you. I'll fight you one on one—no seconds allowed!"
Hearing this, the Pilgrim called: "Zhu Bajie, step aside! Let's see what he can do to old Sun!" The idiot ducked out of the way.
The old demon said: "Come here. First be a post for me—let me put all my strength into hacking your bald pate three times. If you can take it, I'll let your Tang Priest pass. If you can't, bring your Tang Priest here posthast, and I'll make a meal of him!"
The Pilgrim laughed: "Demon! If you've got paper and pen in your cave, bring them out and let's draw up a contract. From this day forward, even if you chop until next year, I won't take you seriously!"
The old demon braced himself, planted his feet in a T-stance, raised his blade with both hands, and brought it crashing down on the Great Sage's crown. There was a great CRACK—but the Pilgrim's scalp wasn't even red.
The old demon was astounded: "What a hard head this monkey has!"
The Great Sage laughed: "You don't know old Sun! Listen:
Born with a copper head and iron skull, In all the world, in heaven and earth, there is none like it. Axe and hammer cannot crack it; In my youth I entered Lord Lao Zi's furnace. The Four Star Officers oversaw the work, The Twenty-Eight Mansions put in their labor. Boiled in water time and again, it would not break; All around, plate-sinews were laid on thick. The Tang Priest still feared it might not hold, And bound it with a purple-gold band to be sure!"
The old demon said: "Monkey, enough of your big talk! Watch this second blade—it won't spare your life!"
The Pilgrim said: "Let's see—it'll be the same kind of chop, won't it?"
The old demon said: "Monkey, you don't know this blade:
Forged in the crucible of gold and fire, Tempered by divine skill through a hundred refinements. Its edge follows the Three Strategies, Its temper obeys the Six Tactics. Slim as a fly's tail, Supple as a white python's waist. Raised in the mountains, clouds roll and surge; Plunged in the sea, waves tower and roar. Polished beyond counting, Searred and stoked through hundreds of ordeals. Worn in deep mountains, in ancient caves, It has won its laurels on every field of battle! Set against your monk's skull— One stroke, and you're two gourds!"
The Great Sage laughed: "This demon has no eye! He takes old Sun for a gourd-head! Very well, since you missed and missed again, chop once more and let's see what happens."
The old demon raised his blade and chopped again. The Great Sage met the blow, and CRACK—CRACK—the head split into two halves. The Great Sage rolled on the ground, and there were two of him.
The demon was thrown into a panic and pressed down his blade.
Zhu Bajie saw it from a distance and laughed: "The old demon does a fine chopping job! Aren't there four of us now?"
The old demon pointed at the Pilgrim: "I heard you knew the art of dividing your body—how dare you use such a trick in front of me!"
The Great Sage said: "What dividing art?"
The old demon said: "Why is it that when I chopped you the first time you didn't move, but this time one chop makes two of you?"
The Great Sage laughed: "Demon, don't you be afraid. Chop me ten thousand times and I'll give you twenty thousand men!"
The old demon said: "You monkey—you can only divide, not recombine. If you've got the skill to recombine into one, then hit me with your staff."
The Great Sage said: "No lies now! You were to chop three times and only chopped twice. Now let me hit you once. If I hit you with even half a staff, my name isn't Sun!"
"Exactly, exactly," said the old demon.
Marvelous Great Sage! He drew his two halves together, rolled once, and was one body again. He whipped out his cudgel and brought it crashing down on the demon's head. The old demon raised his blade to block: "Brazen monkey, no manners! What kind of mourning staff is that, coming to my door to strike people?"
The Great Sage bellowed: "If you ask about this staff of mine, its name is known in heaven above and earth below!"
The old demon said: "How is its name known?"
The Pilgrim said:
"This staff is forged of nine-times refined iron, By Lord Lao Zi's own hand in the furnace fired. King Yu obtained it and called it the Divine Treasure, To fix and prove the four seas and eight rivers. In its core the stars and constellations lie hid, Both ends are banded with plates of gold. Dense patterns cover it, ghost and god aghast; Its upper end bears dragon motifs and phoenix script. Its name is the Numinous Yang Staff, Deep hidden in the sea's storehouse, seen by none. Once shaped, it can change and soar on high, Wafting five-hued clouds of rosy light. Old Sun, his Way attained, took it to his mountain home; Its transformations past counting, its wonders proven true. One moment thick as a great vat, Then fine as a thread of iron. Thick as the Southern Peak, fine as a needle— Long or short, it changes as my heart desires. Lightly raised, it stirs up colored clouds; Brightly flying, it darts like lightning. Cool breaths stream from it, biting cold, Strip on strip of killing mist hangs in the air. Subduing dragons, conquering tigers, it follows me close; From heaven's edge to sea's corner, I've wandered everywhere. With this staff I made havoc in the Heavenly Palace, Scattered the Peach Banquet with my might. The Heavenly King fought me but could not win; Nezha faced me but could not hold the field. Staff struck all the gods, none dared to hide; A hundred thousand heavenly troops fled in rout. The Thunder Guard protected the Lingxiao Hall— I flew up and battered the Hall of Brilliant Light. The court ministers were all aghast; The imperial guards were thrown into turmoil. I raised my staff and overturned the Dipper Palace, Turned and shattered the South Pole Court. The Golden Gate Emperor of Heaven saw the staff was fierce, And summoned the Tathagata to come meet me. Victory and defeat in war are as they are— No pleading when you're trapped in hardship and peril. I served my full five hundred years, Till the Bodhisattva of the South Sea persuaded me. There is a monk in the Great Tang, Who swore a great vow to the Heavens: To free the ghosts in the City of the Unjustly Dead, And seek the scriptures at the Spirit Mountain assembly. The western road is beset with demons, And travel is far from easy. Knowing my iron staff has no peer under heaven, They begged me to be their companion on the way. When evil demons meet it, they go to the shades of death, Flesh turns to red dust, bone turns to flour. Everywhere the demons die beneath this staff, By the tens of thousands, past all counting. In heaven above it smashed the Dipper-Bull Palace, Below it crushed the Hall of King Yama. It once chased off heavenly generals and the Nine Luminaries; In the underworld it beat the judgment-summoning clerk. Dropped from mid-air, it shakes the mountains and rivers, More terrible than the sword of the New Year's God. It is with this staff that I protect the Tang Priest, And have beaten every demon under heaven!"
Hearing this, the demon trembled, but staking his life he raised his blade and struck. The Monkey King, laughing, brought up his iron staff to meet it. The two of them first sparred at the cave mouth, then leaped up and fought in mid-air. What a battle this was!
The Heaven-River-fixing Divine Treasure Staff, A staff called As-You-Will, highest in all the world. The demon chief, boasting his skill, grew enraged, His great blade raised, his magic power proud. Outside the gate, their struggle might be reckoned near; In mid-air, their duel allows no mercy!
One, following his heart, changes his face; The other, on the spot, grows tall his waist. They fight till the sky is thick with clouds, And mist rolls over all the fields. The one, time and again, means to eat Sanzang; The other, with all his magic, guards the Tang. All because the Buddha passed the scriptures down, And evil battles good with bitter hate.
The old demon and the Great Sage fought more than twenty bouts, neither besting the other. Now Bajie, watching from below, saw that the two were at the height of combat and couldn't resist. He snatched up his rake, rode the wind, leaped into the air, and brought the rake smashing down on the demon's face.
The demon panicked—not knowing that Bajie was the type who had more front than back, all bluster and false ferocity. He saw that long snout and great ears, that hard grip and fearsome rake, and he was sure he'd lost. He dropped his blade and fled.
The Great Sage shouted: "After him! After him!" The idiot, emboldened by victory, raised his nail-rake and chased the demon down the slope.
The old demon saw him closing in. On the slope he stopped, faced the wind, shook himself, and revealed his true form: his great mouth yawning wide, he meant to swallow Bajie.
Bajie was terrified. He ducked into the grass and hid, heedless of thorns and brambles, heedless of scrapes and cuts, cowering in the undergrowth, listening for the clapper.
Then the Pilgrim came up. The demon opened his mouth to swallow him too, but this was exactly what the Pilgrim wanted. He shrank his iron cudgel, went forward to meet him, and was swallowed in one gulp by the old demon.
The idiot, hiding in the grass, grumbled and complained: "That Bimawen doesn't know when to quit! The demon comes to eat you, and you don't run—you go and meet him! Swallowed into a belly today, still a monk, but by tomorrow you'll be nothing but a great turd!"
The demon, having won, went back to his cave. The idiot crawled out of the grass and sneaked back the way he'd come.
Now Sanzang was on the mountainside with the Sha Monk, watching and hoping, when Bajie came running up, panting hard.
Sanzang was startled: "Bajie, why are you in such a state? Where is Wukong?"
The idiot wept and wailed: "My elder brother was swallowed by the demon in one gulp!"
When Sanzang heard this, he fell to the ground in a faint. After a long while he came to, stamping his feet and pounding his chest: "Disciple! I thought you were skilled at subduing demons and would lead me to the Western Heaven to see the Buddha. How could I know you'd die at the hands of this monster today! Oh, the bitterness! Oh, the bitterness! All the merits and labors of my disciples are turned to dust and ashes!" The elder grieved beyond measure.
And look at that idiot—he didn't try to comfort his master. Instead he called: "Sha Monk, bring the luggage here. Let's you and me divide it up."
"Divide what, Second Brother?" asked the Sha Monk.
"Divide it up, and each of us goes his own way," said Bajie. "You go back to the Flowing Sands River and eat people again. I'll go back to Gao Family Village and visit my wife. We'll sell the white horse and buy the master a coffin for his funeral."
The elder, hearing this, gasped for breath and cried out to high Heaven, weeping aloud. But let us leave him for now.
The old demon, having swallowed the Pilgrim, thought he had scored a triumph. He returned to his cave, where the demons came to ask how the battle had gone.
"Caught one," said the old demon.
The Second Great King was pleased: "Brother, who did you catch?"
"Sun the Pilgrim," said the old demon.
"Where is he caught?"
"I swallowed him in one gulp, into my belly."
The Third Great King was shocked: "Big Brother! I didn't get to tell you—Sun the Pilgrim isn't fit to eat!"
But the Great Sage, inside the belly, called out: "Oh, I'm quite fit to eat! Good against hunger—I'll never go hungry again!"
The little fiends panicked: "Great King, bad news! Sun the Pilgrim is talking inside your belly!"
The old demon said: "Let him talk! If I had the skill to eat him, don't I have the skill to deal with him? You lot, go heat some salt water. I'll pour it down and vomit him up, and then we'll fry him slowly and eat him with wine."
The little fiends duly mixed half a basin of salt water. The old demon drank it down in one go, bent over, and retched mightily. But the Great Sage had taken root inside his belly and didn't budge. The demon retched and retched till he was dizzy and his eyes swam, his gall nearly bursting—but the Pilgrim didn't move an inch.
The old demon caught his breath and called: "Sun the Pilgrim, won't you come out?"
"Not yet! I'm just fine in here!" said the Pilgrim.
"Why won't you come out?"
"You demon, you have no understanding," said the Pilgrim. "I've been a monk for a long time, and my life is simple. Now that autumn is cool, I still wear only a thin cassock. But in this belly of yours it's nice and warm, and there's no draft. Let me winter here, and then I'll come out."
The little fiends heard this and said: "Great King, Sun the Pilgrim wants to winter inside your belly!"
The old demon said: "If he wants to winter here, I'll sit in meditation and use the transport method—I won't eat all winter, and I'll starve that Bimawen to death!"
The Great Sage said: "My son, you don't know the first thing about it! Old Sun, protecting the Tang Priest on his scripture quest, passed through Guangdong and brought along a folding pot. I'll cook up your innards—liver, intestines, lungs, and all—and eat them bit by bit. That'll keep me in provisions clear through to the Qing Ming Festival!"
The Second Great King was appalled: "Brother, this monkey can actually do it!"
The Third King said: "Brother, well and good if he eats the innards—but where will he set up his pot?"
The Pilgrim said: "Right on the three-pronged bone—that's the perfect spot."
The Third King said: "Bad news! If he sets up a pot and lights a fire, the smoke will get up into the nasal passages—won't he sneeze?"
The Pilgrim laughed: "No problem! Old Sun will thrust the gold-banded cudgel up through the crown of his head and bore a hole. It'll serve as a skylight, and a chimney to boot!"
The old demon heard this. Though he said he wasn't afraid, his heart quailed. He put on a brave front and called: "Brothers, don't fear! Bring me my medicinal wine. I'll drink a few cups and poison the monkey to death!"
The Pilgrim laughed inwardly: "When old Sun made havoc in the Heavenly Palace five hundred years ago, I ate Lord Lao Zi's pills, the Jade Emperor's wine, the Queen Mother's peaches, phoenix marrow and dragon liver—what haven't I tasted? What kind of medicinal wine dares to poison me?"
The little fiends duly brought two pots of medicinal wine, filled a cup to the brim, and handed it to the old demon.
The old demon took it in hand, but the Great Sage inside could already smell the bouquet. "Don't let him drink it!" Marvelous Great Sage! He twisted his head and turned it into a great funnel-shape, opening wide below the demon's throat. As the demon gulped, the Pilgrim intercepted and swallowed the wine. The demon gulped a second cup—the Pilgrim intercepted and swallowed again. Seven or eight cups in a row, all of them he drank down.
The old demon set down his cup: "I'm not drinking any more. This wine, when I have a couple of cups, makes my belly burn like fire. But I've had seven or eight now, and my face isn't even red!"
Now the Great Sage couldn't hold much liquor. Having drunk seven or eight cups, he grew tipsy inside the belly and began to run riot. He propped himself up on his arms, did flat-back stunts, kicked flying kicks, grabbed the liver and swung on it like a swing, stood on his hands like a dragonfly, and tumbled and capered without cease. The demon, racked with agony, fell to the ground.
Whether he lived or died—listen to the explanation in the next chapter.