The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2

by Unknown

  Infuriated by what he heard, the old demon said, “I thought Zhu Eight Rules was a guileless person, but he’s actually most sassy. He dares to make fun of me at this moment! Little ones, stop mourning. Untie Zhu Eight Rules and steam him until he’s soft and tender. Let me have a full stomach first, and then I’ll go catch Pilgrim Sun to avenge my brother.” Turning to Eight Rules, Sha Monk chided him, saying, “Isn’t that nice? I told you not to talk so much! Now your talking means that you’ll be steamed and eaten.” Idiot himself became somewhat alarmed, but a little fiend then spoke up, saying, “Great King, it’s not good to steam Zhu Eight Rules.” “Amitābha Buddha!” said Eight Rules. “Which elder brother is trying to pile up secret merits? I’m indeed no good if I’m steamed.” Another fiend said, “After he’s skinned, he’ll then be good to steam.” Horrified, Eight Rules said, “I’m all right! I’m all right! Though my bones and skins are coarse, I’ll be tender the moment the water boils.”

  As they were speaking, another little fiend came from the front door to report, “Sun Pilgrim is reviling us at our door!” “This fellow,” said a startled old demon, “abuses us because he thinks there is nobody here.” He then gave the order, “Little ones, hang up Zhu Eight Rules as before, and find out how many treasures there are still in the house.” A little fiend, who was the housekeeper, said, “There are three treasures yet in the cave.” “Which three?” asked the old demon. “The sword of seven stars,” said the housekeeper, “the palm-leaf fan, and the pure-jade vase.” “That vase is useless!” said the old demon. “It was supposed to store up anyone who answered when his name was called, but the formula was somehow passed on to that Pilgrim Sun and now our own brother has been put away. I won’t use the vase; leave it here at home. Bring me the sword and the fan, quickly.” The housekeeper handed over the two treasures to the old demon, who stuck the fan into his collar behind his neck and held the sword in his hand. He then called up about three hundred monsters, young and old, and told all of them to arm themselves with spears, clubs, ropes, and knives. The old demon himself also put on helmet and cuirass, covered with a flaming red silk cape. As the monsters rushed out the door, they lined up in battle formation, intent on catching the Great Sage Sun. Knowing by now that the second demon had been dissolved in the gourd, the Great Sage fastened the gourd to the belt around his waist while his hands held high the golden-hooped rod to prepare for combat. As red banners unfurled, the old fiend leaped out the door.

  How was he dressed?

  His helmet’s tassle shimmered on his head,

  And from his belt fresh, radiant colors rose.

  He wore a cuirass knit like dragon scales,

  Topped with a long red cape like crackling flames.

  His round eyes opened wide and lightning flashed;

  Wiry whiskers flared up like turbid fumes.

  His hand held lightly the seven-star sword,

  His shoulder half-hidden by the palm-leaf fan.

  He moved like clouds rushing past the ocean’s peaks;

  Like thunder his voice shook mountains and streams.

  An awesome Heaven-defying warrior,

  Leading many monsters, he stormed out of the cave.

  After ordering the little fiends to take their battle stations, the old demon shouted, “You ape! You are utterly wretched! You murdered my brother and broke up our fraternal bond. You are truly despicable!”

  “Monster, you are the one who’s asking for death!” replied Pilgrim, “Do you mean to tell me that one life of a monster-spirit is worth more than those of four creatures like my master, my younger brothers, and the white horse? You think that I can bear the thought of their being hung up in the cave at this moment? That I would agree to that? Bring them out at once and return them to me. You can add also some travel expenses and send off old Monkey amiably. Then I might spare this cur-like life of yours!” The fiend, of course, would not permit any further exchanges; lifting his treasure sword, he slashed at the head of the Great Sage, who met him with uplift ed iron rod. This was quite a battle outside the entrance of the cave. Aha!

  The seven-star sword and the golden-hooped rod

  Clashed, and sparks flared up like lightning bright;

  The spreading cold air brought oppressive chill

  As vast dark clouds concealed the peaks and cliffs.

  This one because of his fraternal bond

  Would not let up a bit.

  That one on account of the scripture monk

  Would not slow down one whit.

  Each one hated with the same kind of hate;

  Both parties cherished such hostility.

  They fought till Heaven and Earth darkened, scaring gods and ghosts;

  The sun dimmed, the smoke thickened, as dragons and tigers quaked.

  This one ground his teeth like filing down jade nails;

  That one grew so mad that flames leaped out his eyes!

  Back and forth they showed their heroic might,

  And kept on brandishing both sword and rod.

  The old demon fought with the Great Sage for twenty rounds, but neither could gain the upper hand. Pointing with his sword, the old demon shouted, “Little fiends, come up together!” Those three hundred monster-spirits rushed up together and completely surrounded Pilgrim. Dear Great Sage! Not in the least afraid, he wielded his rod and lunged left and right, attacking with it in front and protecting himself in the rear. Those little fiends, however, all had some abilities; the longer they fought, the more ferocious they became—like cotton floss sticking to one’s body, they tackled Pilgrim at the waist and tugged at his legs, refusing to be beaten back. Alarmed, the Great Sage resorted to the magic of the Body beyond the Body. He plucked off a handful of hairs from under his left arm, chewed them to pieces, and spat them out, crying, “Change!” Every piece of the hair changed into a Pilgrim. Look at all of them! The tall ones wielded rods, the short ones boxed with their fists, and the tiniest ones grabbed the monsters’ shanks and began to gnaw on them. They fought till all the fiends were scattered in every direction, crying, “Great King, we’re finished! We can’t fight anymore! The mountain is full of Pilgrim Suns!” The magic of the Body beyond the Body thus sent the flock of monsters into a hasty retreat: only an old demon was left in the middle, surrounded on all sides, sorely pressed but with no way to run at all.

  Terribly frightened, the demon switched the treasure sword to his left hand; with his right, he reached behind his neck and pulled out the palm-leaf fan. Facing the direction of due south (which is the direction of fire), he made a sweeping motion with the fan from the left and fanned at the ground once. Flames leaped up instantly from the ground. The treasure, you see, could produce fire just like that. An unrelenting person, the fiend fanned at the ground for seven or eight more times, and a fierce fire raged everywhere. Marvelous fire!

  The fire was neither the fire of Heaven

  Nor the fire of a brazier;

  Neither the wild fire on the meadows

  Nor the fire inside an oven.

  It was a spark of spiritual light taken naturally from the Five Phases.

  The fan also was no common thing in the mortal world,

  Nor was it made by any human skill.

  It was a true treasure formed since the time chaos parted.

  When the fan was used to start this fire,

  Bright and brilliant,

  It was like the red bolts of lightning;

  Clear and ablaze,

  It seemed mists iridescent.

  There was not even a strand of blue smoke,

  Only a mountain full of scarlet flames.

  It burned till the summit pines became fire trees,

  And cedars changed into lanterns before the cliff.

  The beasts of the caves, eager to live,

  Dashed to the east and the west;

  The birds of the woods, zealous for their feathers,

  Flew high and retreated wide.

  This divine, air-filling holocaust
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  Burned till rocks broke, rivers dried up, and all the ground turned red!

  When the Great Sage saw how ferocious the fire was, he, too, became quite shaken, crying, “It’s bad! I can stand it myself, but my hairs are no good. Once they fall into the fire, they will be burned up.” Shaking his body once, he retrieved all his hairs except one piece, which he used to change into a specious form of himself, pretending to flee the fire. His true body, making the fire-resisting sign with his fingers, somersaulted into the air and leaped clear of the blaze. He then headed straight for the Lotus-Flower Cave with the intent of rescuing his master. As he sped up to the entrance of the cave and lowered the direction of his cloud, he saw a hundred-odd little fiends outside the door, every one of them with head wounds or broken legs, with lesions and bruises. They were the ones injured by his magic of the Body beyond the Body, all standing there whimpering and in pain. When the Great Sage saw them, he could not suppress the savagery in his nature; lifting up the iron rod, he fought all the way inside. How pitiful it was that he should bring at once to nothing

  The fruits of bitter exercise to acquire human forms!

  They all became again old pieces of hair and hide!

  After the Great Sage had finished off all the little fiends, he raced into the cave with the intent of untying his master. Just then he saw again a fiery glow inside, and he became terribly flustered, crying, “Undone! Undone! If this fire is starting again even at the back door, old Monkey will find it hard to save Master.” As he was thus in alarm, he looked again more carefully. Ah! It was not the glow of fire, but actually a beam of golden light. Composing himself, he walked inside to have another look and found that the source of the glow was the pure mutton-jade vase. Filled with delight, he said to himself, “What a lovely treasure! This vase was glowing also when the little fiends took it up the mountain. Then old Monkey got it, only to have it taken away again by the monster. It’s hidden here and today it’s still glowing.” Look at him! He stole the vase at once and turned quickly to walk out of the cave, not even bothering to try to rescue his master. As soon as he came out the door, he ran into the demon returning from the south, holding the treasure sword and the fan. The Great Sage did not have time to hide himself, and the demon lifted his sword instantly to slash at his head. Mounting his cloud somersault, the Great Sage leaped up and vanished immediately.

  When the fiend arrived at his own door, he saw corpses lying everywhere, all the monster-spirits under his command. He was so stricken that he lifted his face toward Heaven and sighed loudly before bursting into tears, crying “O misery! O what bitterness!” For him we have a testimonial poem, and the poem says:

  Hateful are the sly ape and the froward horse!

  The seeds divine who came to the world of dust,

  For one erring thought of leaving Heaven,

  Fell on this mountain and destroyed themselves.

  What bitter grief when flocks of birds break up!

  How tears flow when monster troops are wiped out!

  When will the scourge end, the chastisement cease,

  That they may return to their primal forms?

  Overborne by grief, the old demon wailed step by step into the cave; he saw that the furniture and other belongings remained, but not even a single person was in sight. In this total silence, he became sadder than ever: as he sat all by himself in the cave, he placed his head on a stone table, his sword he leaned against the table, and the fan he stuck back into his collar. Soon, he fell into a deep sleep, just as the proverb says:

  Your spirit is full when you are happy;

  Once dejected you tend to be sleepy!

  We tell you now about the Great Sage Sun, who turned the direction of his cloud somersault around and stood before the mountain, thinking again of trying to rescue his master. Fastening the vase tightly to his belt, he returned to the entrance of the cave to see what was happening. The two doors he found wide open, but not a sound could be heard. With light, stealthy steps he slipped inside and discovered the demon sleeping soundly, leaning on the stone table. The palm-leaf fan was sticking out of his collar, half covering the back of his head, while the sword of seven stars was placed against the table. He tiptoed near the demon, pulled out the fan, and turned at once to flee outside. The fan, however, scraped against the hair of the fiend when it was pulled out, rousing him from his sleep. When he lifted his head to look and found that his fan had been stolen by Pilgrim Sun, he gave chase at once with the sword. The Great Sage leaped out the door and, having stuck the fan into his waist, met the fiend with both hands wielding the iron rod. This was a marvelous battle!

  The maddened demon king,

  His cap raised by angry hair,

  Wanted to swallow with one gulp his foe—

  But e’en that was no relief!

  He reviled the monkey thus:

  “You mock me far too much!

  You took our many lives.

  You steal my treasure now.

  This time I’ll not spare you,

  I’ll see that you are dead!”

  The Great Sage rapped the demon:

  “You don’t know what’s good for you!

  A student wants to fight old Monkey?

  How could an egg smash up a rock?”

  The treasure sword came,

  The iron rod moved:

  The two would no longer cherish kindness.

  Again and again a contest they waged;

  Over and over they used their martial skill.

  Because of the scripture monk

  Who sought at Spirit Mount a place,

  Bringing discord to Metal and Fire,

  The Five Phases, confused, lost their peace.

  They showed their awe-inspiring, magic power;

  They kicked up dust and stones to flaunt their might.

  They fought till the sun was about to sink:

  The demon grew weak and retreated first.

  The demon fought with the Great Sage for more than thirty rounds; when the sky darkened, the demon fled in defeat and headed for the southwest in the direction of the Crush-Dragon Cave. We shall speak no more of him for the moment.

  Lowering the direction of his cloud, the Great Sage dashed into the Lotus-Flower Cave and untied the Tang Monk, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk. After they were freed, they thanked Pilgrim while asking, “Where did the demons go?” “The second demon has been stored up in the gourd,” said Pilgrim, “and he must be completely dissolved by now. The old demon was defeated by me just now and he fled toward the Crush-Dragon Cave in the southwest. Over half of the little fiends of the cave have been killed by the body-division magic of old Monkey, and the rest who were defeated have also been wiped out by me. Only after that could I come in here to rescue and free all of you.” Profoundly grateful, the Tang Monk said, “Disciple, you must have worked awfully hard!” “Indeed,” said Pilgrim, laughing, “though all of you had to bear the pain of being hung up, old Monkey hasn’t been able even to rest his legs! I had to be on the go even more frequently than the postal messenger: coming in and getting out, there was never a moment’s pause. Only after having managed to steal his treasures could I defeat the demons.” “Elder Brother,” said Zhu Eight Rules, “take out the gourd and let us have a look inside. The second demon, I suppose, must have been dissolved by now.” The Great Sage first untied the pure vase; he then took out the gold rope and the fan before he held the gourd in his hands. Then he said, “Don’t look! Don’t look! Just now he had old Monkey stored up, and only after I deceived him into opening the lid by feigning some gargling noise did I escape. We must not, therefore, lift up the lid, for he may still pull some tricks and escape.” Thereafter master and disciples happily searched the cave and found some of the monsters’ rice, noodles, and vegetables; after heating and washing some of the pots and pans, they prepared a vegetarian meal and ate their fill. They rested in the cave for the night and soon it was morning again.

  We tell you now about that old demon, who went s
traight to the Crush-Dragon Mountain and gathered together all the female fiends, to whom he gave a thorough account of how his mother was beaten to death, how his brother was sucked into the gourd, how his monster soldiers were wiped out, and how his treasures had been stolen. The female fiends all burst into tears, wailing for a long time. Then the old demon said, “Stop crying, all of you. I still have with me the sword of seven stars, and I plan to go with all of you, female soldiers, to the back of this Crush-Dragon Mountain to borrow some more troops from my maternal relative. I’m determined to capture that Pilgrim Sun to exact vengeance.”

  Before he had even finished speaking, a little fiend came from the door to report, saying, “Great King, your Venerable Maternal Uncle from behind the mountain has led his troops here.” When the old demon heard this, he quickly changed into mourning garments of plain white silk and bowed to receive his visitor. The Venerable Maternal Uncle, you see, was the younger brother of his mother who went by the name, Great King Fox Number Seven. Because he had already received the report from some of his monster soldiers out on patrol that his elder sister was beaten to death by Pilgrim Sun, who then changed into the form of his sister to swindle treasures from his nephew, and that there had been fighting for several days on the Level-Top Mountain, he called up some two hundred soldiers from his own cave to offer his assistance. He stopped first at his sister’s home to find out whether indeed she had died. The moment he walked in the door, however, he saw the old demon in mourning garments, and the two of them burst into loud wailing. After some time, the old demon knelt down to give a complete account of what had taken place. Growing very angry, Number Seven ordered the old demon to take off his mourning garments, to pick up his treasure sword, and to call up all the female monsters. Together they mounted the wind and the cloud, speeding toward the northeast.