CHAPTER 85 

The Mind-Ape Is Jealous of the Mother of Wood; The Demon Chief Plots to Devour the Master of Dhyana

The story tells how when the king held his dawn audience the civil and military officials all carried memorials. “Sovereign Lord,” they reported, “we beg you to forgive your servants for their lack of decorum.”

“Gentlemen,” the king replied, “you are all as courteous as ever. What lack of decorum are you showing?”

“Sovereign Lord,” they said, “we do not know why, but all of your servants lost their hair last night.” Holding in his hand these memorials about the lost hair, the king descended from his dragon throne to say to the officials, “Indeed, we do not know why either, but everyone in the palace, young and old, lost their hair last night.”

King and ministers alike all wept as they said, “From now on we will not dare kill any more monks.” The king then returned to his throne and the officials took their places in their proper ranks. The king then said, “Let those with business here come forward from their ranks to report. If there is no other business the curtain may be rolled up and the audience ended.”

The commander-in-chief of the capital’s garrison then moved forward from the ranks of military officials and the east city commissioner moved forward from the ranks of the civil officials to kowtow at the steps of the throne and report, “We were patrolling the city on Your Majesty’s orders last night when we recaptured a trunk of bandits’ booty and a white horse. As we do not dare take unauthorized action over these we beg Your Majesty to issue an edict.” The king was delighted.

“Bring it here, trunk and all,” he ordered.

The two officials then returned to their own offices, mustered a full complement of soldiers and had the trunk carried out. Sanzang, who was inside, felt his soul leaving his body. “Disciples,” he said, “what shall we say in our defense when we reach the king?”

“Shut up,” said Wukong with a grin. “I’ve fixed everything. When the trunk’s opened the king will bow to us as his teachers. The only thing is that Bajie mustn’t quarrel about precedence.”

“If they don’t kill me that’ll be heaven,” Bajie replied. “What would I want to quarrel about?” Before these words were all out of his mouth they had been carried to the palace entrance and in through the Tower of Five Phoenixes to be set at the foot of the steps to the throne.

On being invited by the two officials to have the trunk opened and look inside the king ordered that this be done. No sooner was the lid lifted than Bajie, who could restrain himself no longer, sprang outside, giving all the officials such a fright that they shivered, unable to speak. Next Pilgrim Sun could be seen helping the Tang Priest out, while Friar Sand lifted the luggage out.

Seeing that the commander-in-chief was holding the white horse, Bajie went up to him, made an angry noise and said, “That’s my horse. Hand it over!” This so terrified the official that he collapsed head over heels.

The four pilgrims all stood upright in the middle of the steps, and when the king saw that they were monks he came down at once from his dragon throne, sent for his queen and consorts from the inner quarters, descended the steps of the throne hall, bowed to them along with all his officials and asked, “What brings you venerable gentlemen here?”

“I have been sent by His Majesty the Great Tang emperor to go to the Great Thunder Monastery in India in the West to worship the living Buddha and fetch the true scriptures,” Sanzang replied.

“Venerable Master,” the king said, “you have come from far away. But why did you sleep in this trunk last night?”

“I knew that Your Majesty had sworn a vow to kill Buddhist monks,” Sanzang replied, “which is why I did not dare to visit your illustrious country openly, but disguised myself as a layman to arrive late at night to find lodging in one of your inns. We slept in the trunk because we were afraid that our real identity would be discovered. Unfortunately the trunk was stolen by bandits, then brought back here by the commander-in-chief. Now that I have been able to see Your Majesty’s dragon countenance, the clouds have cleared away and the sun has come out. I hope that Your Majesty will pardon and release me, ascetic monk that I am: my gratitude will be as deep as the ocean.”

“Venerable Master,” the king replied, “you are a distinguished monk from our suzerain heavenly dynasty. It was wrong of us not to go out to welcome you. For years we have been fulfilling a vow to kill monks because a monk once maligned us. The vow we made to heaven was to kill ten thousand monks to make up a round number. We never imagined that today we would return to the truth and that we would all be turned into monks. Now all of us, king, officials, queen and consorts, have had our hair shaved off. I beg, Venerable Master, that you will not be grudging with your lofty virtue and will take us as your disciples.”

When Bajie heard this he started roaring with laughter: “If you’re going to be our disciples what introductory presents have you got for us?”

“If you will accept us as your follower, Master,” the king replied, “we will present you with all the wealth in our kingdom.”

“Don’t talk about wealth to us,” said Pilgrim Sun, “as we’re proper monks. As long as you inspect and return our passport and escort us out of the city I can guarantee that your monarchy will last forever and that you will enjoy a long and happy life.” On hearing this the king ordered his office of foreign relations to arrange a great feast at which monarch and officials together returned to the one truth. The passport was immediately inspected and returned, after which Sanzang was asked to change the name of the country.

“ ‘Dharma’ in the name of Your Majesty’s country is excellent,” Wukong said, “but the ‘destructia’ part is nonsense. Now that we’ve come here you should change the name to ‘Dharmarespectia.’ This would guarantee

Clear waters and victory for a thousand generations;

Timely winds and rain with universal peace.”

The king thanked them for their gracious kindness, had the royal carriage prepared and escorted the Tang Priest and his three disciples westwards out of the city.

We will say no more of how monarch and subjects now held to the true faith, but tell how after leaving the king of Dharmarespectia the venerable elder said happily from on his horse, “What excellent magic you used, Wukong. It worked very well.”

“Big Brother,” said Friar Sand, “where did you find so many barbers to shave all those heads in one night?” Wukong then told them all about how he had used his miraculous powers, at which they all laughed so much they could not stop.

Just as they were feeling so cheerful a great mountain came into view, blocking their way. Reining in the horse, the Tang Priest said, “Disciples, see how high that mountain is. You must be very careful.”

“Don’t worry,” said Wukong with a grin, “don’t worry. I promise you nothing will go wrong.”

“Don’t say that,” Sanzang replied. “I can see those jutting peaks, and even from a distance it looks rather sinister. Storm clouds are streaming from it, and I am beginning to feel frightened. My whole body is turning numb and my spirits are disturbed.”

“You have already forgotten the Heart Sutra that the Rook’s Nest Hermit taught you,” said Pilgrim Sun.

“I can still remember it,” Sanzang said.

“Even if you can still remember that,” said Wukong, “there is a quatrain that you’ve forgotten.”

“What quatrain?” Sanzang asked, to which Wukong replied,

“Do not go far to seek the Buddha on Vulture Peak;

Vulture Peak is in your heart.

Everybody has a Vulture Peak stupa

Under which to cultivate conduct.”

“Of course I know it, disciple,” said Sanzang. “According to that quatrain the thousands of scriptures all come down to cultivating the heart.”

“Goes without saying,” Wukong replied.

“When the heart is purified it can shine alone;

When the heart is preserved all perceptions are pure.

If there is any mistake then laziness follows,

And success will not come in a myriad years.

As long as your will is sincere Thunder Peak is before your eyes.

But if you’re as scared, frightened and disturbed as this the Great Way is distant, and Thunder Peak is far, far away. Forget those wild fears and come with me.” When the venerable elder heard this his spirits were revived and his worries disappeared.

The four of them had only gone a few more steps when they reached the mountain. When they raised their eyes this was what they saw:

A fine mountain,

Dappled with many colours.

White clouds drifted around the peak,

And cool were the shadows of the trees in front of the cliff.

The birds rustled in the leaves,

The beasts were ferocious.

Among the woods were a thousand pines,

On the ridge a few bamboos.

Howls came from gray wolves seizing their prey,

And roars from hungry tigers fighting over food.

Long screamed the wild apes searching for fruit;

The David’s-deer climbed through blossoms into mists of green.

The wind was blowing,

The waters babbled,

And hidden birds sang in the deserted pass.

Here and there wisteria was climbing

While rare flowers bloomed by the stream amid orchids.

Intricately shaped and strange were the rocks,

And sheer rose the crags.

Foxes and raccoon-dogs ran in packs;

Badgers and apes were playing in groups.

The travelers were worried by so high and steep a mountain:

Why was the ancient track so twisted?

While master and disciples were moving timidly ahead they heard the howling of a wind. “There’s a wind,” said Sanzang in fear.

“In the spring there are mild winds,” Wukong replied, “in the summer hot ones, in the autumn golden ones and in the winter north winds. There are winds in all four seasons. What’s so frightening about a wind?”

“This wind is blowing very hard,” Sanzang replied. “It is definitely not a wind from heaven.”

“But winds always come from the earth and clouds from mountains,” Wukong replied, “so how could there be a wind from heaven?” Before he had finished speaking a mist arose. That mist really was

Darkness joining up with the sky,

Obscurity making the whole earth dim.

The sun had completely vanished from sight

And no bird sang.

All was as indistinct as primal chaos,

And the air seemed filled with flying dust.

The trees on the mountain could not be seen

Where had the herb-gatherers gone?

“Wukong,” said Sanzang in fright, “why is there this mist when the wind is still blowing?”

“Don’t get upset,” Wukong replied. “Get off your horse, Master. I’ll go and see whether or not it’s sinister while you two keep guard, brothers.”

The splendid Great Sage needed only to bow in order to be in mid-air. Holding his hand to his brow for shade, he opened his fiery eyes wide and looked down to see an evil spirit sitting at the foot of a beetling scar. Just look and see what he was like:

A mighty body full of charm,

A heroic manner of great vigor.

The fangs protruding from his mouth were drills of steel;

His nose hung like a jade hook in the middle.

His golden eyes with pupils round gave animals a fright;

Demons and gods were scared of his bristling silver whiskers.

He sat upright by the cliff in terrible might,

Making the mist and wind as he hatched his plot.

On either side of him some thirty or forty junior demons could be seen, all drawn up in line and blowing out mist and wind for all they were worth. Wukong grinned at this and thought, “So my master is clairvoyant. He said it wasn’t a heavenly wind, and it was in fact caused by this evil spirit trying to fool us. Now if I went straight down and hit him with what they call a ‘garlicsmasher’ that’d kill him sure enough, but it would ruin my reputation.” Wukong had been a true hero all his life and was quite incapable of playing a dirty trick like that. “I’d better go back and give Bajie some attention. I’ll ask him to hit the evil spirit first. If Bajie’s good enough to kill the evil spirit we’ll be in luck. If he isn’t and the evil spirit captures him I can come back to rescue him and win myself a bit of fame. He’s always putting on such an act and being so lazy—he won’t make an effort. Still, he is very greedy and partial to a good feed. I think I’ll try a trick on him and see how that works.”

At once he brought his cloud down to land in front of Sanzang, who asked, “Are the wind and the mist sinister or not?”

“It’s clear now,” Wukong replied. “They’ve gone.”

“Yes,” said Sanzang, “they have eased off a little.”

“Master,” said Wukong with a smile, “my eyesight is very good usually, but this time I was wrong. I thought there’d probably be a monster behind that wind and mist but there wasn’t.”

“What caused them then?” Sanzang asked.

“There’s a village not far ahead,” Wukong replied, “where the people are so pious that they’re steaming white rice and white breadrolls to feed monks with. I think that the mist must have been steam escaping from their steamers. It was the result of their goodness.”

When Bajie heard this he thought Wukong was telling the truth, so he grabbed hold of him and whispered, “Did you eat their food before you came back?”

“Only a bit,” Wukong replied. “The vegetable dishes were too salty—I didn’t want to eat too much.”

“Screw that,” said Bajie. “I’d eat my fill of it however salty it was. If it made me really thirsty I’d come back for a drink of water.”

“Would you like some?” Wukong asked.

“Sure thing,” Bajie replied. “I’m hungry and I’d like some now. What do you think?”

“You mustn’t even talk about it,” said Wukong. “As the ancient book says, ‘When the father is present the son must do nothing on his own account.’ Our master, who’s as good as a father to you, is here, so none of us should dare go ahead.”

“If you’ll say nothing about it, I’m going,” replied Bajie with a grin.

“Let’s see how you do it,” Wukong replied. “I’ll say nothing.”

When it came to eating the idiot knew a thing or two. He went up to his master, made a loud “na-a-aw” of respect, and said, “Master, Elder Brother has just told me that there are people in a village ahead of us who feed monks. Just look at that horse. It looks as though it’s going to start playing it up. We’ll be causing a lot of trouble if we have to ask for grass and other fodder for it. Luckily the wind and the clouds have gone now, so why don’t you all sit here for a while while I fetch some tender grass? We can go and beg for food from that house when we’ve fed the horse.”

“Splendid,” said the Tang Priest with delight. “I wondered why you’ve become so hardworking today. Be as quick as you can.”

Smiling secretly to himself the idiot started out. “Brother,” said Wukong, catching up and grabbing hold of him, “they feed monks all right, but only good-looking ones.”

“In that case I’ll have to change again,” said Bajie.

“Yes,” said Pilgrim Sun, “you change.”

The splendid idiot, who could perform thirty-six transformations, went into a hollow on the mountainside, made a spell with his hands, said the magic words, shook himself and turned himself into a short, skinny monk, beating a wooden fish-shaped dram with his hand and mumbling, “Oh Great One, oh Great One,” because he knew no scriptures to recite.

After putting away the wind and the mist the evil spirit ordered all his devils to form a circle round the main road, ready for any travelers. The idiot’s luck was out, and he was soon inside the trap and surrounded by the devils, who grabbed at his clothes and his silken sash as they all crowded in on him together.

“Don’t pull,” Bajie said. “You can let me eat in all your houses in turn.”

“What do you want to eat, monk?” the devils asked.

“You feed monks here,” Bajie replied, “and I’ve come to be fed.”

“So you’re hoping to be fed, are you, monk?” said the demons. “You don’t seem to realize that what we like doing best here is eating monks. We’re all evil immortals who’ve found the Way here in the mountains, and the only thing we want to do is to catch you monks, take you home with us, pop you in the steamer till you’re tender and eat you. And you’re still hoping for a vegetarian meal!”

At this Bajie’s heart was filled with terror, and he started complaining about Wukong. “That Protector of the Horses is a crook. He lied to me about them feeding monks in this village. There aren’t any villagers here and there’s nobody who feeds monks. They’re all evil spirits.” The idiot was being tugged at so hard that he turned back into himself, pulled the rake out from his belt and struck out wildly, driving all the junior devils back.

They rushed back to report to the senior demon, “Disaster, Your Majesty.”

“What disaster?” the senior demon asked.

“A neat-looking monk came along in front of the mountain,” they replied, “so we decided to catch him and steam him. We were going to keep what we couldn’t eat now for a bad day. Then to our astonishment he transformed himself.”

“What did he turn himself into?” the senior demon asked.

“Not into anything human,” they replied. “He’s got a long snout, big ears, and a bristly mane on his back. He lashed out furiously at us with a rake that he used two-handed. He gave us such a terrible fright that we’ve run straight back to report to Your Majesty.”

“Don’t be afraid,” the senior demon said. “Let me go and have a look.” Swinging his iron mace he went up for a closer look and saw that the idiot really was hideous. This is what he looked like:

A snout like a husking hammer over three feet long;

Tusks like silver nails protruding from his mouth.

Two round eyes that flashed like lightning;

A pair of ears that made a howling wind when they flapped.

The bristles behind his head were rows of iron arrows;

All of his hide was rough and green and scabby.

In his hands he held an amazing object:

A nine-toothed rake of which everyone was afraid.

Summoning up his courage, the evil spirit shouted, “Where are you from? What’s your name? Tell me at once and I’ll spare your life.”

To this Bajie replied with a laugh, “So you can’t recognize your own ancestor either, my boy. Come closer and I’ll tell you:

For my huge mouth and tusks and mighty powers

I was made Marshal Tian Peng by the Jade Emperor,

Commanding eighty thousand marines on the River of Heaven,

And happy amid all the joys of the Heavenly Palace.

Because when drunk I flirted with a palace lady

I decided to play the hero for a while.

One butt from my snout destroyed the Dipper and Bull Palace;

I ate the magic mushrooms of the Queen Mother of the West.

The Jade Emperor himself gave me two thousand hammer-blows,

Made me an exile from the world of Heaven.

This made me determined to nourish my spirit,

And become an evil monster in the lower world.

Just when I had made a good marriage in Gao Village

Fate brought me up against my brother Xingzhe.

He subdued me with his gold-banded cudgel;

I was forced to bow my head and enter the Buddhist faith.

I do the heavy work, saddle the horse and carry luggage:

I must have been the Tang Priest’s debtor in an earlier life.

As the iron-footed Marshal Tian Peng my surname was Zhu;

My name as a Buddhist is Zhu Bajie.”

When the evil spirit heard this he shouted, “So you’re the Tang Priest’s disciple. I’ve long heard that his flesh is very tasty. You’re one of the people I most want to catch. I’m not going to spare you now you’ve fallen into my clutches. Stay where you are, and take this from my mace.”

“Evil beast,” Bajie replied. “You must have been a dyer before.”

“What do you mean, I must have been a dyer?” the evil spirit asked.

“If you weren’t a dyer, how come you know how to use a pestle?” Bajie retorted, and with no further argument the monster was upon him, striking furiously. They fought a fine battle in the mountain hollow:

A nine-toothed rake,

An iron mace.

As the rake went through its movements they were like a howling gale;

The mace’s skilful blows came as thick and fast as rain.

One was an unknown ogre blocking the mountain road;

The other was the offending Tian Peng now guarding his true nature’s master.

When one’s nature is right monsters cause no fear;

When the mountain is high earth cannot come from metal.

One fought with his mace like a python from a pool;

The other’s rake was like a dragon from the waters.

Their angry shouts shook mountains and rivers;

Their mighty roars caused terror down in hell.

Each of the heroes displayed his prowess,

Staking his life on his magical powers.

We will say no more of how Bajie set a mighty wind blowing as he fought the evil spirit, who ordered his junior devils to keep Bajie surrounded. Instead the story tells how Pilgrim Sun suddenly gave a bitter laugh behind the Tang Priest’s back.

“Why are you laughing like that, Big Brother?” Friar Sand asked.

“Bajie really is an idiot,” Wukong replied. “As soon as he heard that they feed monks there he fell for my trick. He’s been away a long time now. If he’d beaten the evil spirit with a single blow of his rake you’d have seen him coming back in triumph by now, loudly insisting on his great victory. But if the demon’s been too much for him and captured him my luck’s out. Goodness only knows how often he’ll have cursed the Protector of the Horses behind my back. Say nothing while I go to take a look around, Wujing.”

With that the splendid Great Sage, who did not want the venerable elder to know what was happening, quietly pulled a hair out of the back of his head, blew on it with magic breath, said “Change!” and turned it into his own double to stay with the master together with Friar Sand. Then his real self disappeared as he leapt up into the air to look around. He saw the idiot lashing out wildly with his rake at the devils who were surrounding him and gradually getting the better of him.

This was more than Wukong could bear. Bringing his cloud down to land, he shouted at the top of his voice, “Take it easy, Bajie. Brother Sun’s here.” Recognizing that it was Wukong’s voice gave the idiot a chance to be more ferocious than ever as he hit wildly forward with his rake. The evil spirit was no match for him.

“You weren’t up to much before, monk,” he said, “so how come you’re so fierce now?”

“You’d better stop bullying me now, my lad,” Bajie replied. “I’ve got one of my people here now.” A moment later he was swinging wildly again with the rake. The evil spirit, unable to stave off the blows, led his devils away in defeat. As soon as Wukong saw that the devils had been beaten he drew no closer but went straight back on his cloud, shook the hair and put it back on his body. With his mortal, fleshly eyes the Tang Priest noticed nothing of this.

Before long a triumphant Bajie returned too, so exhausted that his nose was dripping with snot as he foamed at the mouth and was panting loudly. “Master!” he called.

When the Tang Priest saw him he exclaimed in astonishment, “Bajie, you went to fetch some grass for the horse. Why have you come back in so terrible a state? Were there watchmen on the mountain who wouldn’t let you cut any?”

The idiot flung his rake down, beat his chest and stamped his feet as he replied, “Don’t ask me about it, Master. If I had to tell you I’d die of shame.”

“What would you be so ashamed of?” Sanzang asked.

“Elder Brother tricked me,” Bajie replied. “He told me that it wasn’t an evil spirit behind that wind and mist. He said there was nothing sinister about it, but that it was from a village where the people were so pious that they were steaming white rice and breadrolls made with white flour to feed monks with. I believed him. As I was so hungry I thought I’d go ahead to beg for some. Fetching grass for the horse was only an excuse. I never expected to be surrounded by a crowd of evil spirits. They gave me a hard fight, and if Brother Sun hadn’t helped me out with his mourner’s staff I’d have had no hope of escaping and getting back here.”

‘The idiot’s talking nonsense,” said Wukong, who was standing beside them, with a smile. “If you’ve taken to robbery you’re trying to get a whole gaolful of people into trouble. I’ve been looking after the master here. I’ve never left his side.”

“It is true,” Sanzang said, “Wukong has never left my side.”

The idiot then sprang up shouting, “You don’t understand, Master. He’s got a double.”

“Is there really a monster there, Wukong?” Sanzang asked. Wukong could keep his deception up no longer.

“There are a few little devils,” Wukong replied with a bow and a smile, “but they won’t dare give us any trouble. Come here, Bajie. I’m going to look after you. We’re going to escort the master along this steep mountain path as if we were an army on the march.”

“How?” Bajie asked.

“You’ll be the commander of the vanguard,” Wukong replied, “going in front and clearing the way. If the evil spirit doesn’t show up again that will be that; but if he does, you fight him. When you beat the evil spirit that’ll be something to your credit.”

Reckoning that the evil spirit’s powers were much the same as his own, Bajie said, “Very well then. I’m ready to die at his hands. I’ll take the lead.”

“Idiot,” said Wukong, “if you start by saying such unlucky things you’ll never get anywhere.”

“As you know, brother,” Bajie replied,

“When a gentleman goes to a banquet

He gets either drunk or well filled;

When a hero goes into a battle

He gets either wounded or killed.

By saying something unlucky first I’ll make myself stronger later.” This delighted Wukong, who saddled the horse and invited the master to ride while Friar Sand carried the luggage as they all followed Bajie into the mountains.

The evil spirit meanwhile led a few of his underlings who had survived the rout straight back to his cave, where he sat brooding in silence high up above a rocky precipice. Many of the junior devils who looked after things in his household came up to him and asked, “Why are you so miserable today, Your Majesty? You’re usually in such high spirits when you come back.”

“Little ones,” said the demon king, “usually when I go out to patrol the mountains I can be sure of bringing home a few people or animals I’ve caught to feed you with. Today my luck was out: I’ve met my match.”

“Who?” the junior devils asked.

“A monk,” the demon king replied, “a disciple of the Tang Priest from the East who’s going to fetch the scriptures. He’s called Zhu Bajie. He went for me so hard with his rake that he beat me. I had to run away. I’m thoroughly fed up. For ages now I’ve heard it said that the Tang Priest is an arhat who has cultivated his conduct for ten successive lifetimes. Anyone who eats a piece of his flesh will live forever. To my surprise he’s come to my mountain today, and it would have been an ideal time to catch him, cook him and eat him. I never realized he’d have a disciple like that one.”

Before he had finished saying this a junior devil slipped forward from the ranks. First he gave three sobs in front of the demon king, then three laughs.

“Why sob then laugh?” shouted the demon king.

The junior devil fell to his knees as he replied, “Because Your Majesty just said that you wanted to eat the Tang Priest. His flesh isn’t worth eating.”

“But everyone says that a piece of his flesh will make you live as long as the heavens,” said the demon king. “How can you say that it’s not worth eating?”

“If he were so good to eat,” the junior devil replied, “he’d never have got this far. Other demons would have eaten him up. And he’s got three disciples with him.”

“Do you know who?” the demon king asked.

“The senior disciple is Pilgrim Sun,” said the junior devil, “and the third disciple is Friar Sand. The one you met must have been his second disciple Zhu Bajie.”

“How does Friar Sand compare with Zhu Bajie?” asked the demon king.

“He’s much the same,” the junior devil said.

“What about Pilgrim Sun?” the demon king asked, at which the junior devil thrust out his tongue in horror and replied, “I daren’t tell you. He has tremendous magical powers and can do all sorts of transformations. Five hundred years ago he made terrible havoc in Heaven. None of the heavenly warriors dared give him any trouble, from the Twenty-eight Constellations, the Star Lords of the Nine Bright Shiners, the Gods of the Twelve Branches, the Five Officers and the Four Ministers, the East and West Dippers and the Gods of the North and the South, to the Five Peaks and the Four Rivers. How can you have the nerve to want to eat the Tang Priest?”

“How do you know so much about him?” the demon king asked.

“I used to live in the Lion Cave of the demon king on Lion Ridge,” the junior devil replied. “He was reckless enough to want to eat the Tang Priest, and that Pilgrim Sun smashed his way in through the gates with his gold-banded cudgel. It was terrible. They were wiped out. Luckily I had enough sense to escape by the back door and come here, where Your Majesty allowed me to stay. That’s how I know about his powers.”

The senior demon turned pale with shock when he heard this: it was a case of the commander-in-chief being afraid of the soothsayer’s words. How could he help being alarmed when he heard all this from one of his own people? Just when they were all feeling terrified another junior devil stepped forward and said, “Don’t be so upset and afraid, Your Majesty. As the saying goes, easy does it. If you want to catch the Tang Priest let me make you a plan to capture him.”

“What plan?” the senior demon asked.

“I have a plan to ‘divide the petals of the plum blossom.’ ”

“What do you mean by ‘dividing the petals of the plum blossom’?” the demon king asked.

“Call the roll of all the devils in the cave,” the junior devil replied. “Choose the best hundred from all thousand of them, then the best ten out of that hundred, and finally the best three out of the ten. They must be capable and good at transformations. Have them all turn into Your Majesty’s doubles, wear Your Majesty’s helmet and armor, carry Your Majesty’s mace, and lie in wait in three different places. First send one out to fight Zhu Bajie, then one to fight Pilgrim Sun and finally one to fight Friar Sand. This way you’ll only have to spare three junior devils to draw the three disciples away. Then Your Majesty will be able to stretch down from mid-air with your cloud-grabbing hand to catch the Tang Priest. He’ll be in the bag. It’ll be as easy as catching flies in a dish of fish juice. Nothing to it.”

This suggestion delighted the demon king, who said, “What a brilliant plan, brilliant! If I don’t catch the Tang Priest this way, that’ll be that. But if I do I can assure you you’ll be richly rewarded. I’ll make you commander of the vanguard.” The junior devil kowtowed to thank him for his grace and went off to call the roll of the devils. After all the monsters in the cave had been carefully checked through, three capable junior devils were selected. They turned into the senior devil’s doubles and went to lie in wait for the Tang Priest with their iron maces.

The venerable Tang Elder meanwhile was following Bajie along the way without a care in the world. When they had been going for some time there was a crashing sound from beside the track and out leapt a junior devil who rushed straight at them, evidently to grab Sanzang. “The evil spirit’s here, Bajie,” Wukong shouted. “Get him!”

The idiot, who was taken in by the imposture, hacked wildly at the devil with his rake. The evil spirit parried Bajie’s blows with his mace as he met the onslaught. While the battle between the pair of them ebbed and flowed on the mountainside there was a noise in the undergrowth as another monster sprang out and charged at the Tang Priest.

“This is bad, Master,” said Wukong. “Bajie can’t see straight. He’s let the monster escape to catch you. I’m going to fight him.” Pulling his cudgel out in a flash, he went up to the monster, shouting, “Where d’you think you’re going? Take this!”

Without saying a word the evil spirit raised his mace to meet the attack. But while the two of them were locked in combat, swinging at each other, there was a howling wind from the other side of the mountain and a third evil spirit sprang out who also rushed straight at the Tang Priest. When Friar Sand saw it he exclaimed in alarm, “Master, Big Brother and Second Brother both can’t see straight. They’ve let the evil spirit get away to catch you. Stay on the horse while I get him.”

Friar Sand was taken in too. Brandishing his staff he blocked the evil spirit’s iron mace and started a bitter combat. It was a wild fight with shouts and awful yells, and they drew further and further away. When the demon king saw from up in the sky that the Tang Priest was alone on the horse he reached down with his five-clawed steel hook and seized him. The master lost horse and stirrups as the evil spirit carried him off in a gust of wind. Alas! This was a case of

When the dhyana-nature encountered a monster the true achievement was hard;

The Monk of the River Current met once more with a star of disaster.

Bringing his wind down to land, the demon king took the Tang Priest into the cave and called, “Commander of the Vanguard!”

The junior devil who had made the plan came forward, knelt and said, “I am not worthy.”

“How can you say that?” the demon king replied. “Once the commander-in-chief has spoken, white becomes black. What I said before was that if I failed to catch the Tang Priest, that would be that; but that if I succeeded I’d make you my commander of the vanguard. Your brilliant plan has succeeded today, so there is no reason why I should break faith with you. Bring the Tang Priest here and tell the underlings to fetch water, scrub the cooking pot, fetch some firewood and light the fire. When he’s been steamed you and I will each have a piece of his flesh and live forever.”

“Your Majesty,” the commander of the vanguard replied, “he mustn’t be eaten yet.”

“Why ever not?” the demon king asked. “We’ve captured him.”

“It wouldn’t matter if you ate him, Your Majesty,” said the commander of the vanguard, “as far as Zhu Bajie and Friar Sand are concerned. They would be reasonable. But I’m worried about that Pilgrim Sun: he’d be really vicious. If he found out we’d eaten the Tang Priest he wouldn’t come to give us a straight fight. He’d just thrust that gold-banded cudgel of his into the mountainside and make a hole so big that the whole mountain would collapse. We’d be homeless.”

“What do you suggest?” the demon king asked.

“In my opinion,” the commander replied, “we should send the Tang Priest out to the back garden, tie him to a tree, and starve him for two or three days. That will clean him up inside and let us make sure that the three disciples don’t come here looking for him. Once we’ve found out that they’ve gone home we can bring the Tang Priest out and enjoy him at our leisure. That’d be better, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, yes,” the senior demon said with a laugh. “You’re right, Commander.”

An order was issued and the Tang Priest taken into the back garden to be roped to a tree, while all the junior devils went out to the front to keep watch. Look at the venerable elder as he suffers in his bonds, tied up tightly and unable to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Disciples,” he called, “where did you chase those demons to when you went to capture them in the mountains? I have been captured by a wicked ogre and have met with disaster. When will I ever see you again? The pain is killing me.”

Just when the tears from both eyes were joining in a single stream he heard someone calling from a tree opposite, “Venerable Elder, you’re here too.”

Taking control of himself, the Tang Priest asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m a woodcutter who lives on this mountain,” the other replied. “I’ve been tied up here for three days. I reckon they’re going to eat me.”

“Woodcutter,” said the Tang Priest with tears in his eyes, “If you die it will only be you. You have nothing else to worry about. But if I die it won’t be a clean end.”

“What do you mean, it won’t be a clean end, venerable Elder?” the woodcutter asked. “You have no parents, wife or children, so if you die that’ll be that.”

“I am from the East,” the Tang Priest replied, “and was going to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven. I was going on the orders of Emperor Taizong of the Tang to worship the living Buddha and fetch the true scriptures. This was to save all the lonely souls in the underworld who have nobody to care for them. If I lose my life today the vain waiting will kill my sovereign and I will let down his ministers. Countless wronged souls in the City of the Unjustly Slain will suffer a terrible disappointment and never ever be able to escape from the wheel of life. The true achievement will all be turned to dust in the wind. How can that possibly be considered a clean end?”

When the woodcutter heard this the tears fell from his eyes as he said, “If you die that is all there to it. But my death will be even more painful for me to bear. I lost my father when I was a boy, and live alone with my mother. Because we had no property I have had to make our living as a woodcutter. My aged mother is eighty-two this year and I am her only support. If I die who will there be to bury her? It’s very hard to bear: the pain of it is killing me.”

When the venerable elder heard this he began to wail aloud, “Oh dear, oh dear,

Even the mountain man thinks of his mother;

I am reciting the sutras in vain.

Serving one’s monarch and serving one’s parents are both the same in principle. You are moved by your mother’s goodness to you and I by my sovereign lord’s goodness to me.” This was indeed a case of

Weeping eyes looking at eyes that weep,

A heartbroken one who sees off one with a broken heart.

But we will say no more of Sanzang’s sufferings as we return to Wukong, who after driving the junior devil back down the grassy slope rushed back to the track to find that his master had disappeared. All that was left were the white horse and the luggage. In his alarm he led the horse and shouldered the carrying-pole as he headed for the top of the mountain in his search for the master. Oh dear! Indeed:

The long-suffering Monk of the River Current had met with new suffering;

The Great Sage, subduer of demons, had run into a demon.

If you do not know how his search for his master ended, listen to the explanation in the next installment.