Chapter 25: Zhenyuan Pursues the Scripture Monk; Sun Wukong Wreaks Havoc at Five Village Monastery

The three brothers came up to the hall. Tripitaka asked them, "The meal is nearly ready. Why are you calling us back?"

"I am not asking about the meal," said Tripitaka. "There is a ginseng fruit in this monastery, shaped like a little child. Which of you stole and ate one?"

Bajie said, "I am honest enough, but I know nothing of it. I never saw such a thing."

Qingfeng said, "The one laughing is guilty. The one laughing is guilty."

Wukong snapped, "Old Sun was born with this smile. Just because you have lost a fruit, you will not even let me laugh?"

Tripitaka said, "Calm down, disciple. We are monks. We must not lie, and we must not eat with a guilty conscience. If you truly ate his fruit, then apologize to him. Why make such a hard denial?"

Seeing that his master spoke reasonably, Wukong admitted it at once. "Master, it has nothing to do with me. Bajie heard those two boy attendants talking about ginseng fruit, wanted to taste something new, and sent Old Sun to fetch three. Each of my brothers ate one. It has already been eaten. What would you have us do now?"

Mingyue cried, "He stole four, and this monk still says he is not a thief."

Bajie said, "Amitabha! If four were stolen, why were only three brought out to share? Wasn't one of them held back before the count was even made?"

Bajie only made matters worse.

The two boys pressed the matter and cursed the more fiercely. The Great Sage grew so angry that his steel teeth rang and his fiery eyes widened, and he gripped the Golden-Hooped Rod again and again, forcing himself to endure it.

"That boy is talking smack to my face," he thought. "Very well. I will give him a plan so thorough that no one will get to eat."

He plucked a hair from the back of his head, breathed immortal force on it, and cried, "Change!" It became a false Wukong, who stayed behind with Tripitaka, Bajie, and Brother Sha to endure the boys' abuse. Leaving his true body behind in spirit, he rode the cloud straight to the ginseng orchard. There he drew the Golden-Hooped Rod and struck the tree with a clang. Then he used the divine force that can shift mountains and remove ranges and gave the tree a mighty shove.

Alas! The leaves fell, the branches split, and the roots came up out of the soil. The Daoist's immortal elixir was finished.

Wukong shoved the tree down and searched the branches for fruit, but there was not so much as half a one left. This treasure had the habit of falling when it touched metal, and his staff was banded with gold at both ends; besides, iron is itself one of the five metals. Once it was struck, the fruit dropped. Once it dropped, it sank into the soil by virtue of the earth. So none remained in the upper branches.

"Good," said Wukong. "Now the fire may go out."

He withdrew the iron staff, returned at once, shook his hair, and gathered the hair back into himself. The others, having only mortal eyes, could not see what had happened.

The boys cursed for a long while. At last Qingfeng said, "Mingyue, these monks are also not easy to deal with. We have cursed them like chickens for half the day, and they have not answered once. Most likely they did not steal the fruit. But if the tree is tall and the leaves thick, perhaps the count was wrong. Do not curse them for nothing. Let us go and look again."

Mingyue said, "That makes sense."

The two really did return to the orchard, only to find the tree fallen and its roots exposed, with not a leaf or fruit left on it. Qingfeng's knees went weak and he dropped to the ground; Mingyue's back went soft and his bones seemed to melt. Their souls nearly flew away.

The holy poem says:

Tripitaka had come west to Mount Wanshou; Wukong had brought ruin to the grass-reviving elixir.
Branches split, leaves fell, and the immortal root showed bare; Qingfeng and Mingyue lost all courage.

The two of them lay in the dust, babbling nonsense.

"What are we to do? What are we to do?" they cried. "The elixir in Five Village Monastery has been ruined. The immortal lineage has been cut off. When our master comes home, what answer can we give?"

Mingyue said, "Brother, do not shout. Let us first put our clothes in order and not alarm these monks. There is no one else here. It must be that hairy-faced thunder-mouth fellow who came using a spirit trick and spoiled our treasure. If we talk it through with him, he will surely deny it, and then we will have to fight. If we fight, how can the two of us beat the four of them? Better to trick him instead. Let us say there are no fruits missing, that we counted wrong, and go apologize to him.

Their meal is already cooked. When they sit down to eat, we will add a few side dishes. Let each of them hold a bowl; you stand by the left door and I by the right. Then slam the doors shut, lock them fast with these two copper padlocks, and do not let them out. When the master comes home, let him settle it however he likes. Since that monk is his old acquaintance, if he lets them go it will be as a favor to his guest. If he does not, we will at least have caught a thief, and perhaps we may escape punishment ourselves."

Qingfeng said, "That is reasonable. Very reasonable."

So the two forced themselves to smile, came back from the rear garden to the hall, and bowed before Tripitaka with their backs bent low.

"Master," they said, "our words just now were crude, and we spoke out of turn. Please do not take offense."

Tripitaka asked, "What do you mean?"

Qingfeng said, "There are no fruits missing. We could not see clearly because the leaves were too high and thick. We went to count again just now, and the number is still the same."

Bajie took the chance to stick up his feet and said, "You two children are too young to know what you are about. You came here barking nonsense and falsely accused us. You are no better than beasts."

Wukong understood perfectly, but kept silent. In his heart he thought, "A lie, a lie. The fruit is already finished. How can they speak this way? Most likely they have some trick for bringing the dead back to life."

Tripitaka said, "If that is so, then bring the meal in and let us eat before we go."

Bajie went to serve the rice, and Brother Sha set the tables and stools in place. The two boys hurried to bring out the side dishes: pickled cucumbers, pickled eggplant, fermented radish, vinegar beans, salt-preserved lotus roots, and mustard greens, seven or eight dishes in all. They also brought a pot of good tea and two teacups to attend the four pilgrims.

Just as the master and his disciples were lifting their bowls, the two boys stood one on each side, slammed the doors shut, and locked them with two copper padlocks.

Bajie laughed. "You boys are mistaken. Your local custom is bad indeed. Why shut the doors to eat?"

Mingyue said, "Exactly so, exactly so. Eat first, then we will open the doors."

Qingfeng cursed, "You gluttonous, sneaking bald thief! You stole my immortal fruit and committed the crime of eating the produce of someone else's garden. Then you uprooted my immortal tree and destroyed the root of Five Village Monastery. You still have the nerve to talk back. If you ever make it to the Western Heaven to see Buddha's face, it will only be after several turnings on the back-brake cart and another birth."

Tripitaka heard this and let the rice bowl drop from his hand. A stone settled on his heart.

The boys locked the front gate and the second gate as well, then came back to the main hall entrance and hurled abuse until evening. Only after that did they go in to eat. When they had finished, they returned to their own rooms.

Tripitaka complained to Wukong, "You monkey head, you make trouble wherever you go. You stole his fruit and suffered some abuse for it, and if you had simply let him scold you a few times, that would have been the end of it. Why did you go and topple his tree as well? If this were taken to court, even if your own father were the magistrate, you could not explain it away."

Wukong said, "Master, do not make a fuss. The boys are asleep. We will set out as soon as they are sleeping soundly."

Brother Sha said, "Brother, all the gates are locked tight. How are we supposed to get out?"

Wukong laughed. "Do not worry. Old Sun has his own method."

Bajie said, "I am not worried that you have a method. You can change into any bug or insect and slip out through the cracks. It is only we poor fellows who cannot transform, and must stay here like cauldrons to take the punishment."

Tripitaka said, "If he does that kind of thing, he will get out by himself and leave us behind. Then if I start reciting that old spell, how will he bear it?"

Bajie heard that and grew both anxious and amused. "Master, what are you talking about? I have only heard of the Heart Sutra, the Lotus Sutra, the Peacock Sutra, the Guanyin Sutra, and the Diamond Sutra. I have never heard of any old-spell scripture."

Wukong said, "Brother, you do not know. The circlet on my head was bestowed on my master by Guanyin. My master tricked me into wearing it, and it is as if it has rooted itself in my skull. There is no taking it off. It is called the Tightening Spell, and also the Tightening Sutra. The 'old-spell scripture' he speaks of is this very thing. If he chants it, my head will ache. That is why he has this method to hold me. Master, do not chant it. I will never betray you. I can get everyone out together."

After they had talked for a while, the sky was already dark, and before they knew it the moon had risen in the east.

Wukong said, "The world is silent now, and the moon wheel is bright. This is the best time to go."

Bajie said, "Brother, do not play tricks. Every gate is locked. Where do you expect to go?"

Wukong said, "Watch my skill."

He pinched the Golden-Hooped Rod in his hand and used an unlocking art. Pointing it at the gate, he heard a sharp clatter, and all the locks on the several gates dropped at once. The doors opened with a rattle.

Bajie laughed. "Good skill. Even if you had a blacksmith use a file on it, it would not have been this quick."

Wukong said, "What is there to marvel at? Even if it were the South Heaven Gate, one point would open it."

He escorted his master out the gate and up onto the horse. Bajie carried the luggage, Brother Sha held the horse, and they took the western road at once.

Wukong said, "You two go on slowly. Let Old Sun go back and see to those two boys, and make them sleep for a month."

Tripitaka said, "Disciple, do not hurt their lives. If you do, it will be another charge of extortion and injury."

Wukong said, "I know."

He went back in, came to the room where the boys slept, and found the sleep-insects he had won from the Eastern Heaven Gate while playing dice with the Growth Heavenly King. He took out two of them and flicked them in through the window lattice, straight onto the two boys' faces. At once they snored into a dead sleep and could never again wake up.

Only then did he whisk himself into the clouds, catch up with Tripitaka, and fly straight west along the road.

They rode all night without stopping and traveled until dawn.

Tripitaka said, "This monkey has made me suffer. Because of your mouth, I have spent the whole night without sleep."

Wukong said, "Do not grumble all the time.

Now that it is light, you should rest a little under the woods by the roadside and gather your strength before we go on."

The elder had no choice but to dismount, lean against a pine root, and sit as if it were a meditation bench. Brother Sha set down the luggage and dozed. Bajie used a stone for a pillow and slept. Only the Great Sage could not sit still, so he sprang into the trees and swung from branch to branch in play.

We need not speak further of the four travelers resting there.

Now to return to the Great Immortal. When he came down from the Primordial Palace after the assembly and led the other immortals out of Tusita, he descended from the jade sky on an auspicious cloud and arrived at the gate of Five Village Monastery. Looking about, he saw the gate wide open and the ground swept clean.

He said, "Qingfeng and Mingyue are truly useful. On ordinary days the sun is three poles high before they can even stretch their waists. Since we were away today, they have actually gotten up early and swept the gate."

The little immortals were all pleased. They came up to the hall, but the incense fires were dead and no one was to be seen. There was not a trace of Qingfeng or Mingyue.

The immortals said, "Those two must have taken things and run because we were not here."

The Great Immortal said, "Nonsense. Would a cultivator do such a wicked thing? They must have forgotten to close the gate last night and gone to sleep. They have not yet woken up."

The immortals went to their room doors and looked in. Sure enough, the doors were shut and the boys were snoring soundly. No matter how they beat the door or shouted in confusion, they could not wake them.

They pried open the door boards and pulled them out of bed, but still they would not stir.

The Great Immortal laughed. "Good little immortals. The heart of an immortal should be full and should not crave sleep. Why are they so heavy with drowsiness? Could someone have played a trick on them? Fetch some water."

One boy hurried to bring half a cup, and the Great Immortal recited a spell, spat a mouthful of water onto their faces, and at once broke the spell of sleep.

The two finally awoke. When they opened their eyes and rubbed their faces, they saw that it was their immortal teacher and the assembled honored immortals. Qingfeng fell to the ground, and Mingyue knocked his head in alarm.

"Master!" they cried. "Your old acquaintances were the monks from the East Country. They were a pack of bandits, fierce beyond measure."

The Great Immortal laughed. "Do not be frightened. Tell me slowly what happened."

Qingfeng said, "Master, not long after you left, there really did come a Tang monk from the East, with four monks in all and five mouths counting the horse. We dared not defy your orders, so we asked him why he had come and brought out two ginseng fruits for him. That elder was dull-eyed and thick-hearted. He did not recognize the immortal treasure and said they looked like children not yet three days old, and would not eat them despite all our urging. So each of us ate one.

It was not expected that among his disciples there should be three men, one surnamed Sun, named Wukong. He secretly stole four fruits and ate them. Then we reasoned with him out loud and spoke a few honest words. He would not allow it and quietly used a spirit trick. Alas!

At this point the two boys could not stop the tears running down their cheeks.

The immortals asked, "Did the monk beat you?"

Mingyue said, "He did not beat us. He only knocked our ginseng tree down."

The Great Immortal heard this and was all the more angry. Instead he said, "Do not cry. You do not know that the one surnamed Sun is also an offshoot of the Great Pure Immortals. He once made havoc in Heaven and his powers are vast indeed. Since the treasure tree has been knocked down, do you recognize those monks?"

Qingfeng said, "We do."

The Great Immortal said, "Since you know them, all of you come with me. You fellows, get the instruments of punishment ready and wait for my return to beat them."

The immortals obeyed.

The Great Immortal rose on an auspicious light with Mingyue and Qingfeng and went after Tripitaka. In the blink of an eye he had chased them more than a thousand li.

From the clouds he looked west and saw no sign of Tripitaka. Turning east, he saw that he had overshot them by more than nine hundred li.

The elder had only ridden a hundred and twenty li that entire night, while the Great Immortal's cloud had leaped far beyond him.

"Master," said the boys, "the Tang monk is sitting under the roadside tree."

"I see him," said the Great Immortal. "You two go back and prepare the ropes. I will take him myself."

Qingfeng and Mingyue went back first, and we need not follow them further.

The Great Immortal lowered his cloud and changed himself into a wandering Daoist. You should see how he was dressed:

He wore a patched robe, a Lu Gong sash, waved a horse-tail whisk in his hand, and lightly tapped a fish drum. On his feet were straw sandals with three ears, and on his head a Nine-Yang cap. The wind filled his sleeves as he floated along, singing "Moon on High."

He walked straight to the tree and shouted at Tripitaka, "Reverend, this poor Daoist offers his respects."

Tripitaka hurriedly returned the greeting. "I am ashamed, I am ashamed."

The Great Immortal asked, "Where is the reverend from? Why are you sitting in meditation by the roadside?"

Tripitaka said, "This poor monk is the one sent by Great Tang to the Western Heaven to seek scriptures. I am only resting here for a moment while passing through."

The Great Immortal pretended to be surprised. "Since you have come from the East, have you passed through a barren mountain?"

Tripitaka said, "I do not know what precious mountain Your Excellency means."

The Great Immortal said, "Mount Wanshou, with Five Village Monastery upon it, is where I dwell."

When Wukong heard this, and because he had a thing on his mind, he quickly replied, "No, no. We came straight along the road."

The Great Immortal pointed at him and laughed. "You shameless monkey! Who are you trying to fool? You came into my monastery, knocked down my ginseng fruit tree, and now you have run here in the middle of the night. Still you refuse to admit it? What are you covering up? Stop running and bring my tree back at once!"

Wukong was furious. He drew his iron staff and, without a word of argument, struck straight at the Great Immortal's head.

The Great Immortal sidestepped, rode his auspicious cloud upward, and went into the sky. Wukong also mounted a cloud and went after him in a hurry.

Up in the air, the Great Immortal showed his true form. You should see how he looked:

He wore a purple-gold crown, a carefree crane cloak, shoes on his feet, a silk sash at the waist. His body was like a child's, his face like a beauty's. Three whiskers floated beneath his chin, and black feathers layered at his temples. He had no weapon to face Wukong, only a jade fly-whisk in his hand.

Wukong struck wildly with no restraint at all. The Great Immortal blocked left and right with the fly-whisk, and for two or three rounds he held his own.

Then he used a device called "the universe in the sleeve." In the clouds, he gently spread his robe sleeve to catch the wind, and with a sudden flash he swept the four monks and the horse into it.

Bajie cried, "This is bad. We are all packed up in a cloth bundle!"

Wukong said, "Idiot, it is not a bundle. He has us trapped in his sleeve."

Bajie said, "That is no trouble. Let me give him a few rakes and punch a hole through it, then we can slip out. We can say he was careless and did not hold us securely."

The fool raked madly at the sleeve, but could not pierce it. It was soft to the touch, but once struck it was harder than iron.

The Great Immortal turned on his auspicious cloud and dropped back into Five Village Monastery. He ordered the disciples to bring ropes.

The little immortals served him one by one. From his sleeve he took Tripitaka out as if he were plucking puppets from a box and tied him to the main hall pillar.

He took out the other three and tied each one to a pillar of his own. The horse was brought out and tethered in the courtyard with some fodder. The luggage was thrown beneath the corridor.

Then he said, "My disciples, these monks are tonsured men and must not be dealt with by sword or spear, axe or halberd. Bring me a whip instead. I will give them a beating and vent my anger over the ginseng fruit."

The immortals hurried to fetch one. It was no oxhide whip, no goatskin whip, no deerhide whip, no calfskin whip. It was a seven-star whip made of dragon skin, soaked in water.

He told a strong little immortal to hold the whip. "Master," he said, "which one shall I beat first?"

"Tripitaka first," said the Great Immortal. "He has shown me disrespect."

Wukong thought to himself, "My old monk cannot take a beating. If he is whipped senseless, it will be my own sin." He could not hold back and said aloud, "Sir, you have made a mistake. I stole the fruit, I ate the fruit, and I toppled the tree. Why not beat me first? Why beat him?"

The Great Immortal laughed. "This wild monkey has a fierce tongue. Then beat him first."

The little immortal asked, "How many lashes?"

"Thirty," said the Great Immortal, "according to the number of fruits."

The little immortal raised the whip and struck. Fearing the force of immortal law, Wukong widened his eyes and watched where the blow would fall.

It was his legs that were to be struck, so Wukong twisted his waist and cried, "Change!" His legs turned into two bars of tempered iron. Let them strike however they liked.

The little immortal laid on thirty lashes one after another. By then the sun was already climbing toward noon.

The Great Immortal then ordered, "Tripitaka must also be beaten for poor discipline, for letting a wild disciple run rampant."

The immortal raised the whip again. Wukong said, "Sir, you are mistaken once more. When the fruit was stolen, my master knew nothing. He was in the hall talking with your two boys. It was my brothers and I who did the deed. Even if there is a fault in discipline, I, as disciple, should take the punishment. Beat me again."

The Great Immortal said, "This wild monkey is cunning and unruly, yet he does have some filial spirit. Very well, then beat him."

The little immortal whipped him thirty more times. Wukong looked down and saw that his two legs were as bright as mirrors. They had been polished from the beating, and he could feel neither pain nor itch.

By now the day was growing late. The Great Immortal said, "Soak the whip in water and wait until tomorrow to whip them again."

The little immortal took the whip to soak it. The others returned to their rooms.

After the evening meal, all of them went to sleep without more to say.

The elder lay with tears in both eyes and blamed his three disciples. "You have caused this trouble, and now I am the one who suffers for it. How did this happen?"

Wukong said, "Stop complaining. I was the first to be beaten, and you have not been beaten at all. Why are you sighing instead?"

Tripitaka said, "Even if I was not beaten, my body is still bound and sore."

Brother Sha said, "Master, I am still bound up with you."

Wukong said, "None of you make a racket. Wait a little longer, and we will be on the road."

Bajie said, "Brother, you are at it again. We are tied fast with hemp rope soaked in water. That is not like the time you opened the doors in the hall with your unlocking art."

Wukong said, "I am not boasting. Even if three-strand hemp rope has been soaked in water, it is only straw to Old Sun. Even a coir hawser as thick as a bowl is nothing but autumn wind to me."

As they were speaking, all was already silent, and the night street was empty.

The Great Sage made his body smaller and smaller, slipped free of the ropes, and said, "Master, be quiet."

Brother Sha panicked. "Brother, save us too!"

Wukong said, "Hush, hush."

He untied Tripitaka, set Bajie and Brother Sha free, straightened his short jacket, strapped the horse, took the luggage from the corridor, and led them all out through the monastery gate.

Then he told Bajie, "Go cut down four willow trees by the cliff."

Bajie said, "What for?"

Wukong said, "They will be useful. Hurry up and fetch them."

The fool had brute strength. He went off and, with one bite per tree, bit down four willows and carried them back in a single bundle.

Wukong broke off the tops and had the two brothers go back in and tie the original ropes around the pillars just as before.

The Great Sage then recited a spell, bit the tip of his tongue, spurted blood onto the trees, and cried, "Change!" One tree turned into Tripitaka, one into himself, and the other two into Brother Sha and Bajie. They all became alike in face and shape; if you asked them questions, they answered, and if you called their names, they replied.

Only then did the real party set out and by dawn had already escaped from Five Village Monastery.

When morning came, Tripitaka had begun to nod in the saddle. Wukong saw it and cried, "Master, you are no good at this. How can a monk suffer so much? Old Sun has gone through a thousand nights without sleep and has no idea what drowsiness is. Get down from the horse. Do not let the travelers see you and laugh. Hide for a little while in the shelter of the hill below, where the wind is blocked and the qi gathers, and then we will go on."

We need not speak of the four resting on the road for a time.

Now to return to the Great Immortal. At daybreak he rose, ate his morning vegetarian meal, went out into the hall, and said, "Bring me the whip. Today it is Tripitaka's turn."

The little immortal raised the whip and said to Tripitaka, "I am going to beat you."

The willow tree answered, "Beat me then."

Thirty lashes fell with a crack.

The whip was then raised toward Bajie. "I am going to beat you."

The willow tree answered, "Beat me then."

Brother Sha was beaten the same way, and the tree answered the same way.

When the whipping reached Wukong, the real Wukong, who was on the road, happened to shudder. "No good!" he cried.

Tripitaka asked, "What is it?"

Wukong said, "I turned those four willow trees into the four of us. I thought that since they had already whipped me twice yesterday, they might not whip me again today. But they are beating my transformation instead, which is why my true body shuddered. Stop the spell."

He hurriedly recited the spell and withdrew the magic.

The Daoist boys were terrified. They dropped the whip and cried out, "Master, the first one we beat was the monk from Great Tang. All the others we beat were willow roots."

The Great Immortal laughed coldly and praised him without end. "Sun Wukong really is a fine monkey king. I have heard he made havoc in Heaven and spread nets of sky and earth all around him, yet no one could take him. It is exactly as rumored. Since you have already escaped, so be it. But how could you leave willow trees here to serve as a false front? Never spare him. Go after him!"

Having said that, he rode up on a cloud and looked west. There he saw the monks carrying luggage and leading the horse, all on their way.

He dropped his cloud and shouted, "Sun Wukong, where are you going? Bring back my ginseng fruit tree!"

Bajie heard him and said, "We are done for. Our enemy has come again."

Wukong said, "Master, put the word for kindness away for the moment. Let us be a little fierce and finish him off so we can get away."

Tripitaka trembled at the words and did not answer.

Brother Sha drew his treasure staff, Bajie raised his nine-toothed rake, and the Great Sage lifted his iron staff. The three of them rushed forward together and surrounded the Great Immortal in the air, striking and raking in a wild assault.

The battle poem says:

Wukong did not know Zhenyuan the Immortal, whose power as Lord of the World was even more mysterious.
Three divine weapons raged with force; one fly-whisk drifted as though at ease.
Leftward blocking, rightward meeting, each in turn; front and back parrying, each in its turn.
Night gives way to morning, yet the body cannot be shaken free.
How many days must he linger before he reaches the Western Heaven?

The three brothers attacked together with all their might, but the Great Immortal only used his fly-whisk to block and parry. After some half an hour he spread his robe sleeve once more and swept the four monks, the horse, and the luggage into it all over again.

He rode back on the cloud and returned to the monastery, where the immortals came out to meet him.

The immortal master sat on the hall dais and took them out of his sleeve one by one: Tripitaka he tied to a low pagoda plum tree below the steps; Bajie and Brother Sha were tied to trees on either side; and Wukong himself was bound fast.

Wukong said, "So this is the inquisition."

Before long the binding was finished, and he ordered ten bolts of long cloth to be brought.

Wukong laughed. "Bajie, this master has a fine idea. He has brought cloth out to make us middle sleeves. Save a little and make one big sleeve for all of us."

The little immortals carried out the household cloth.

The Great Immortal said, "Wrap Tripitaka, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing in cloth."

The immortals all came forward and wrapped them up. Wukong laughed. "Good, good, good. We are being laid out before we are dead."

Soon enough, the wrapping was done. Then he ordered lacquer brought out. The immortals hurriedly took some raw and cooked lacquer they had stored and dried, and covered the three from head to foot in cloth and lacquer, leaving only their faces exposed.

Bajie said, "Sir, leaving the top open is no trouble, but there should still be a hole below. We have to relieve ourselves."

The Great Immortal then ordered a great cauldron brought out.

Wukong laughed. "Bajie, your fortune has arrived. They have brought out a pot, so perhaps they are going to cook us a meal."

Bajie said, "So be it. Let them feed us a bit. It would at least be a proper way to die full."

Sure enough, the immortals brought out a large pot and set it below the steps. The Great Immortal ordered dry brushwood piled under it and a fierce fire made.

"Pour a pot of clear oil into it," he said. "Heat it to a boil. Then lower Sun Wukong into the oil cauldron and fry him a good while to avenge my ginseng fruit tree."

When Wukong heard this, he was secretly delighted.

"Just as I would have it," he thought. "I have not bathed for a while, and my skin is getting dry and itchy. A hot bath would be appreciated. Your generosity is most welcome."

In a moment the oil was nearly boiling.

The Great Sage kept a sharp eye open. He feared that immortal arts would be hard to examine and that trickery might be worked in the pot, so he quickly looked around. On the east side below the dais there was a sundial platform; on the west side stood a stone lion.

Wukong leaped away, rolled to the west side, bit the tip of his tongue, and spat a mouthful onto the stone lion.

"Change!" he cried.

The lion changed into his own shape, bound up exactly the same way. His true spirit slipped out and rose in the clouds, where he looked down at the Daoists.

A little immortal reported, "Master, the oil is boiling through."

The Great Immortal said, "Bring Sun Wukong down."

Four little immortals could not lift him. Eight could not lift him. Even after four more came, they still could not budge him.

The immortals said, "That monkey is rooted to the ground. Small as he is, he is sturdy enough."

So twenty little immortals were ordered to shoulder him together. They heaved him up and flung him into the pot. There was a crackling sound, and boiling oil splashed up, scalding the little Daoists' faces with several blistered burns.

All at once a fire boy shouted, "The pot is leaking! The pot is leaking!"

Before he could finish, the oil had leaked out completely, and the pot bottom was broken. Inside there was only a stone lion.

The Great Immortal flew into a rage.

"This filthy monkey was truly rude! He worked a trick in front of my eyes. Since he has escaped, let him go. How could he even wreck my stove? This monkey, even if one caught him, would still be as elusive as sand in a fist or mercury under the fingers, as hard to grasp as wind-shadow and mist-trace. Enough, enough, enough. Let him go. Untie Tripitaka and bring another pot. We will scorch him once and for all, and at least vent our anger over the ginseng fruit tree."

The little immortals moved at once and began to untie the cloth and lacquer.

Wukong, hearing it all clearly in the sky, thought, "My master cannot take this. If he is put into the oil pot, the first boil will kill him, the second will char him, and by the third or fifth boil he will be turned into a shredded monk. I must go rescue him."

The Great Sage lowered his cloud, stepped forward, and folded his hands. "Do not tear the cloth and lacquer away. Beat me, not my master. Let me go into the oil pot instead."

The Great Immortal was startled and cursed him. "You monkey! How did you use your tricks to wreck my stove?"

Wukong laughed. "If you met me, your stove ought to go bad. What is that to me? I was just about to take some of your oil-soup kindness, but nature called in a big way. If I had to fart in the pot, I might foul your fine oil and spoil the dish. Now that I have cleared my bowels, I can go into the pot properly. Do not tie up my master. Tie me up instead."

The Great Immortal laughed coldly and came out of the hall, seized him by the arm, and pulled him toward him.

But how he intended to speak, and how Wukong would escape, that must wait for the next chapter.