Chapter 59: Tripitaka Is Blocked at Flame Mountain; the Pilgrim Goes to Borrow the Plantain Fan

A verse says:

All natures are one from the start, and the sea can hold them all.
A thousand thoughts and ten thousand reckonings end only in illusion.
Every shape and color may mingle and become one whole.
When the work is done and conduct fulfilled,
the round and bright dharma nature rises high and clear.
Let no difference send you east or west;
lock the halter tight.
Gather them in and place them in the cinnabar furnace,
refine them until they glow red like the Golden Crow.
Bright, radiant, and lovely, they may come and go riding dragons.

Now to return to Tripitaka, who followed the Bodhisattva's instruction and took on Sun Wukong again. Together with Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, he cut off the two minds and locked down the monkey and horse, bent on one purpose as they hurried toward the Western Heaven.

Time passed like an arrow. Days and months spun like a shuttle. They made their way through the heat of summer and the blaze of midsummer, and then it was the third autumn, with frost in the air.

All around them:

Thin clouds were gone; the west wind grew sharp. Cranes cried from distant ridges, and frosted woods shone like brocade. The scene was bleak and cold, the mountains long and the waters longer still. Wild geese came north from the frontier; birds returned south to the wooded lanes. A traveler felt the loneliness of the road, and even a monk's robe grew easy to chill.

The four pilgrims went on a little farther when they began to feel heat rising from the road, as if the earth itself were steaming. Tripitaka reined in his horse and said, "It is autumn now. Why should there still be such heat?"

Bajie said, "Master, you do not know. On the road west there is a country called Shaharli, at the place where the sun goes down. When the hour is late, the king has men beat drums and sound horns on the city wall. The sea there boils and roars. The sun is pure fire, and when it sinks into the western sea it strikes the water like a red-hot iron quenched in cold water. If the drums and horns are not heard, the heat can even scorch the children in the city to death. This steaming heat of ours must mean we are nearing the land where the sun sets."

The Great Sage could not help laughing. "You fool, stop rambling. If you are talking about Shaharli, we are still far from it. With the sort of dawdling you call morning three and evening two, you would grow old, then young again, and even after three lifetimes you still would not get there."

Bajie said, "Brother, if this is not the place where the sun goes down, why is it so stifling?"

Sha Wujing said, "Maybe the seasons are wrong and autumn is being conducted by summer's laws."

While the three of them argued, they saw a manor by the roadside, with red tile, red brick walls, red lacquered gates, and red-painted benches. It was red everywhere.

Tripitaka dismounted and said, "Wukong, go ask that household what is causing this heat."

The Great Sage tucked away the Golden-Hooped Rod, straightened his robe, and put on a polite, courtly air. He stepped down from the road and went to the gate. Then an old man came out from inside. He wore a tunic that was neither yellow nor red, a bamboo-slat summer hat that was neither green nor black, and in his hand he carried a crooked bamboo staff that was neither straight nor bent. On his feet were sandals that were neither new nor old. His face was like red bronze, his beard white as silk, and his blue eyes were hidden beneath his long brows. His mouth was broad, and his teeth shone gold.

When the old man looked up and saw the Pilgrim, he was startled. Leaning on his staff, he cried, "Where have you come from, you strange fellow? What business have you at my gate?"

The Pilgrim returned the courtesy. "Kind sir, do not be afraid. I am no monster. I am a monk from Great Tang, sent by imperial command to the Western Heaven to seek the scriptures. My master and three disciples have just reached your honorable land. The weather is steaming hot, and we do not know the reason, nor even the name of this place. I have come to ask for your guidance."

The old man relaxed and smiled. "Reverend sir, forgive me. My old eyes failed me for a moment and did not recognize your noble face."

"I would not dare be offended," said the Pilgrim.

The old man asked, "Where is your master?"

The Pilgrim said, "Is he not standing on the south road?"

The old man immediately said, "Please, please, bring him here."

The Pilgrim beckoned, and Tripitaka came forward with Bajie and Sha Wujing, leading the white horse and carrying the baggage, all of them bowing to the old man.

When the old man saw Tripitaka's elegant, refined bearing and the strange, monstrous faces of Bajie and Sha Wujing, he was both startled and pleased. He invited them inside, ordered tea to be brought, and had the meal prepared.

Tripitaka thanked him and asked, "Old sir, why is your land so hot even in autumn?"

The old man said, "Our place is called Flame Mountain. We have no spring and no autumn here; all four seasons are hot."

Tripitaka said, "Where is this Flame Mountain? Does it block the road west?"

The old man said, "You cannot go west from here. The mountain lies some sixty miles away, and it is the one road that must be taken westward. Yet there are eight hundred li of flame there, and not a blade of grass grows around it. Even if a man had a copper skull and an iron body, he would still melt into broth if he tried to cross."

Tripitaka turned pale and did not dare ask any more.

Just then, outside the gate, a young man came pushing a red cart and called out, "Cakes for sale!"

The Great Sage plucked a hair from his body and turned it into a copper coin. He bought a cake from the man. The seller took the coin, lifted the cloth over the cart, and from the hot steam drew out a cake, which he handed over.

Wukong held it in his hand. It felt like a charcoal brand from a fire pit, like a red nail from a furnace. He kept turning it from one hand to the other, grumbling, "Hot, hot, hot. Impossible to eat."

The man laughed. "If you cannot bear heat, do not come here. This is what our place is like."

Wukong said, "You simpleton, you do not make sense. As the saying goes, 'Neither cold nor hot will grow the grain.' If the weather is this hot, where do your flour and rice come from?"

The man said, "If you want to know where the cake flour comes from, ask the Iron Fan Immortal."

Wukong said, "Who is this Iron Fan Immortal?"

The man said, "She has a Plantain Fan. Get it from her, and one wave can put out the fire, a second can raise wind, and a third can bring rain. That is how we sow our crops and gather our harvests in season, so that the people can live on grain. Otherwise not even a blade of grass could grow."

When Wukong heard this, he hurried back inside and gave the cake to Tripitaka. "Master, do not worry. Do not let the cake burn on you for another year. Eat first, and then I will tell you what I have learned."

Tripitaka took the cake and handed it back to the old man. "Sir, please have some cake."

The old man said, "We have not even set out tea and food for you. How could we take your cake?"

Wukong laughed. "Old sir, never mind the tea and food. I only want to ask you: where does this Iron Fan Immortal live?"

The old man said, "Why do you ask?"

Wukong said, "The cake seller just told me that the Immortal has a Plantain Fan. If one gets it and waves it once, the fire stops; a second time, the wind rises; a third time, the rain comes. Then your people can sow and reap in peace. I want to find her and borrow the fan to put out Flame Mountain, so that your land may also have proper seasons and live in peace."

The old man said, "There is such a story, but without gifts you may not get her to come."

Tripitaka asked, "What gifts does she want?"

The old man said, "In our country people make one pilgrimage every ten years. They bring four pigs, four sheep, colored silks for outer and inner robes, rare incense, fresh fruit in season, chickens, geese, and fine wine. After bathing and fasting in sincerity, they go to the sacred mountain and invite the Immortal out of her cave to perform the rite."

Wukong asked, "Where is that mountain? What is it called? How far is it?"

The old man said, "It lies to the southwest, and it is called Mount Cuiyun. In the mountain there is a cave called Plantain Cave. It takes our pilgrims a month to go there and back, and the distance is some fourteen hundred and sixty or seventy li."

Wukong laughed. "That is nothing. I will go and return in a flash."

The old man said, "Wait a moment. Eat some tea and food, make some dried provisions, and have two companions with you. There are no houses on that road, and wolves and tigers are everywhere. It is no journey for a single day. Do not treat it as a joke."

Wukong laughed. "No need. I am off."

He said it, and then he was gone.

The old man was stunned and cried, "Heaven above, he is a true god who rides the clouds."

We will not speak further of how that household served Tripitaka twice as well as before.

Now the Pilgrim arrived in an instant at Mount Cuiyun, held back the lucky cloud, and looked for the cave mouth. Just then he heard the sound of wood being chopped in the woods, ding-ding. He hurried forward and heard a woodcutter singing:

In the clouded distance I recognize my old woods;
the broken cliff is overgrown, and the road is hard to find.
On the western slope I see the rain that fell this morning;
by the southern stream, the ford runs deep on the way home.

The Pilgrim came forward and bowed. "Woodman, greetings."

The woodcutter put down his ax and returned the bow. "Reverend sir, where are you bound?"

Wukong asked, "May I ask whether this is Mount Cuiyun?"

"It is," said the woodcutter.

Wukong asked, "Where is the Plantain Cave of the Iron Fan Immortal?"

The woodcutter smiled. "There is a Plantain Cave, but there is no Iron Fan Immortal. There is only Princess Iron Fan, also called the Rakshasa Woman."

Wukong said, "People say she has a Plantain Fan that can put out Flame Mountain. Is that she?"

The woodcutter said, "It is, it is. That revered lady has a true treasure. She can put out fire and protect the people there, so she is called the Iron Fan Immortal. We do not use her name here. We only call her the Rakshasa Woman. She is the wife of the great Bull Demon King."

When Wukong heard this, he was shaken. He thought to himself, "So it is another enemy. Back when I subdued Red Boy, they said that child was hers. At Mount Jieyang, in the cave of the recumbent tree, I met her uncle, and even then she would not give me water, only said she would take revenge. Now I have come upon his parents as well. How in the world am I to borrow this fan?"

Seeing him lost in thought and sighing again and again, the woodcutter laughed. "Reverend sir, you are a monk. What cause have you for worry? A small road to the east, no more than five or six li, will bring you to Plantain Cave. Do not lose heart."

Wukong said, "I will not hide it from you. I am the eldest disciple of Tripitaka, the monk sent from Great Tang to seek the scriptures in the Western Heaven. Last year in Fire Cloud Cave I had some words with Red Boy, the son of the Rakshasa Woman. I fear that she still bears a grudge and will not lend me the fan, so I am uneasy."

The woodcutter said, "A real man judges by the expression on a face. Just say you come to borrow the fan and do not mention old quarrels. Surely you will get it."

Wukong gave him a deep bow. "Thank you for your teaching, woodman. I am off."

He left the woodcutter and went straight to the gate of Plantain Cave. The two doors were shut tight, and the scenery outside was beautiful. What a place it was:

The mountain was bone, the rock its marrow. Mist and clouds held last night's moisture, and moss and lichen added a fresh green. Its towering height mocked the Isles of the Immortals, and its hidden peace smelled sweeter than the sea isles. Tall pines held wild cranes; withered willows spoke to mountain orioles. Truly it was a thousand-year old site, a ten-thousand-year immortal trace. In the green paulownia trees phoenixes cried, and in the running water the hidden dragon lay. Vines hung from the narrow path; creepers climbed the stone steps. Monkeys cried on the green cliffs as the moon rose, and birds sang from the high trees in the clear sky. Bamboo shade lay cool as rain, and flowers thickened the path until it was hidden like embroidered velvet. Now and then white clouds drifted from the distant peaks, with no fixed shape, simply following the wind.

The Pilgrim stepped forward and called, "Bull Brother, open the gate. Open the gate."

With a creak, the cave door opened, and out came a flower girl carrying a basket and a hoe over her shoulder. She was dressed in rags, with no trace of ornament, but her face shone with spirit and understanding.

Wukong bowed with joined palms and said, "Girl, trouble you to tell the princess: I am a monk on the road to the Western Heaven. Flame Mountain blocks the way. I have come to borrow the Plantain Fan and use it once."

The flower girl said, "Which temple are you from? What is your name? I must report it properly."

Wukong said, "I am a monk from the Eastern Tang. My name is Sun Wukong."

The flower girl went back inside and knelt before the Rakshasa Woman. "Mistress, there is a monk from the Eastern Tang at the gate. He says his name is Sun Wukong and asks to see you. He has come to borrow the Plantain Fan for crossing Flame Mountain."

When the Rakshasa Woman heard the three words Sun Wukong, it was like pouring salt into fire, like oil on top of flames. Her face went red to the ears, and anger blazed in her heart. She cursed, "That brute monkey! He has come today."

She shouted for the maids. "Bring my armor and weapons!"

At once she dressed, took up a pair of blue-edged precious swords, and came out with her robes in order. Wukong slipped aside outside the cave and looked in secret at her manner of dress. She wore a turban of flowered silk, a robe of patched brocade cloud-patterns, tiger sinew cords at her waist, and a gauzy skirt just visible beneath. Her phoenix-beak shoes were three inches long, and her dragon-whisker leggings were trimmed in gold. She held her precious swords and spoke in a furious voice, looking more fierce than the moon-faced demons of old.

At the gate she called, "Where is Sun Wukong?"

Wukong stepped forward and bowed. "Sister-in-law, Old Sun is here to pay his respects."

She snapped, "Who is your sister-in-law? Who asked you to salute me?"

Wukong said, "Your honored house's Bull Demon King once swore brotherhood with me. We are seven sworn brothers. Since you are his lawful wife, how could I not call you sister-in-law?"

The Rakshasa Woman cursed, "You vile monkey! Since we are kin, why did you harm my son?"

Wukong pretended to be puzzled. "Who is your son?"

She said, "My son is Red Boy, the Holy Infant King of Fire Cloud Cave at Hanging Pine Gorge. You ruined him, and we have been unable to find you for revenge. Now you come to my door to hand yourself over? Do you think I will spare you?"

Wukong filled his face with a smile. "Sister-in-law, you have mistaken the matter. You are blaming Old Sun without reason. Your son had seized my master and meant to steam him and boil him. Thanks to Guanyin Bodhisattva, he was taken away and brought to the right path. He is now serving the Bodhisattva as a Good Fortune Boy, already having attained the true fruit of the Bodhisattva's rank. He is beyond birth and death, beyond stain and purity, sharing heaven's and earth's age.

Instead of thanking Old Sun for saving his life, why do you blame me?"

She shouted, "You clever-mouthed brute! Even if my boy was not killed, how can I ever get to see him again?"

Wukong laughed. "If you want to see your son, what is the difficulty? Lend me your fan, let me put out the fire and send my master across the mountain, and then I will go to Guanyin Bodhisattva in the South Sea and ask him to come see you. I will return your fan afterward. What is impossible about that? By then you can see whether he has suffered even the smallest injury. If there is any injury at all, you have reason to blame me. If he is even more handsome than before, then you ought to thank me."

The Rakshasa Woman said, "Vile monkey, stop wagging your tongue. Stretch out your head and let me cut it a few times. If you can bear the pain, I will lend you the fan. If you cannot, I will send you to Lord Yama at once."

Wukong put his hands together and stepped forward, smiling. "Sister-in-law, do not say so much. I will bare my bald head and let you cut however much you like. If you have no strength, then let it be. Just be sure to lend me the fan."

Without another word, she swung both swords and hacked down at his head ten or more times. Wukong did not take her seriously at all. At last she grew frightened and turned to flee. Wukong said, "Where are you going, sister-in-law? Hurry and lend it to me."

The Rakshasa Woman said, "My treasure is not something lightly borrowed."

Wukong said, "If you will not lend it, take a blow from your old uncle."

The Monkey King tugged with one hand, then drew the staff from his ear with the other. He shook it once and it became thick as a bowl. The Rakshasa Woman freed herself and raised her sword to meet him. Wukong swung his staff and struck. The two of them fought before Mount Cuiyun, paying no heed to family ties and only speaking of old grudges.

It was a fierce battle:

The lady demon had cultivated herself into a fiend, and because of her son she bore a murderous hatred for the monkey. The Pilgrim was angry too, yet because his master's road was blocked he kept back some of his ferocity. He had come at first only to borrow the fan, and he had not yet let his true power fully loose. The Rakshasa Woman knew nothing of this and swung her sword in anger, while the Monkey King spoke of kinship. How could a woman match a man in battle? In the end, the strong overpowered the weak. The Golden-Hooped Rod was fierce; the blue-edged swords were sharp. They hacked at the face and struck at the head, locked in bitter hatred. Left and right they blocked and crossed, back and forth they showed their skill. By the time the fight had reached its thickest heat, the sun in the west was already dropping. The Rakshasa Woman then brought out her true fan and gave it a wave.

At once a cold wind blasted out and blew the Pilgrim away until he vanished without a trace. There was no way to hold him.

The Rakshasa Woman won the field and returned to the cave.

The Great Sage went tumbling and turning through space. He could not land to the left and could not stay to the right. He was like a whirlwind overturning dead leaves or a stream carrying off broken blossoms. He rolled all through the night and only at dawn came to rest on a mountain, where he hugged a crag with both arms.

After he had steadied himself for a long while, he looked closely and saw that he was on Little Sumeru Mountain.

He sighed. "That fierce woman! How did she send Old Sun all the way here? I remember once coming to this place to ask Bodhisattva Lingji to subdue the Yellow Wind Monster and save my master. From Yellow Wind Ridge to here it is only some three thousand li straight south. Now I have been blown here from the west and ended up in the southeast; who knows how many ten-thousands of li that may be. Let me go down and ask Bodhisattva Lingji for some news, so I can find the road back."

While he was still thinking, he heard a bell ringing clearly. He hurried down the slope and went straight to the monastery. The Taoist at the gate recognized the Pilgrim's face and went in to report, "The shaggy-faced Great Sage who came two years ago to invite the Bodhisattva to subdue the Yellow Wind Monster is here again."

The Bodhisattva, knowing it was Wukong, came down from the throne at once to greet him and led him inside, where he bowed and said, "Congratulations. Have you already obtained the scriptures?"

Wukong answered, "You are far too early. Too early, too early."

Lingji said, "If you have not yet reached Thunderclap Monastery, why do you come back to my barren mountain?"

Wukong said, "Last year, thanks to your kindness in subduing the Yellow Wind Monster, I went on my way. Since then I have endured who knows how many hardships. Now I have reached Flame Mountain and cannot go forward. I asked the locals, and they told me about an Iron Fan Immortal with a Plantain Fan that can put out the fire. So I went to look for her. It turns out that she is the wife of the Bull Demon King and the mother of Red Boy.

When I told her I had made her son into Guanyin Bodhisattva's attendant, and said he no longer had to suffer seeing her only rarely, she took me as her enemy and refused to lend the fan. We fought, and when she saw that my staff was too heavy for her to bear, she fanned me once and blew me all the way here. So I have come boldly to your monastery to ask the road back.

How far is it from here to Flame Mountain?"

Lingji laughed. "That woman is called the Rakshasa Woman, and also Princess Iron Fan. Her Plantain Fan was born from a spirit vine beyond Kunlun when heaven and earth first opened. It is the leaf-essence of the moon, so it can extinguish fire. If she fans a person, the wind can carry him eighty-four thousand li before it stops.

From my mountain to Flame Mountain it is only a little more than fifty thousand li, and even that you were able to stop because you still have the power to ride the clouds. If you were an ordinary man, you would not have been able to remain in place at all."

Wukong said, "How terrible! How is my master ever to get across that place?"

Lingji laughed. "Do not worry, Great Sage. This is also part of Tripitaka's destiny. It is meant to help you complete your merit."

Wukong said, "How does that make merit?"

Lingji said, "When I took the Buddha's command long ago, he gave me one Wind-Stilling Pill and one Flying-Dragon Staff. The Flying-Dragon Staff was already used to subdue the wind demon. This Wind-Stilling Pill has not yet been used. I will give it to you now. With it that woman cannot fan you away. You can then borrow the fan and put out the fire, and is that not a merit gained on the spot?"

Wukong bowed his head again and again, thanking him without end. The Bodhisattva took a brocade pouch from his sleeve, placed the Wind-Stilling Pill into Wukong's collar, and stitched it fast with needle and thread.

Then he sent Wukong to the gate and said, "I cannot keep you long. Go northwest, and you will reach the Rakshasa Woman's territory."

Wukong took leave of Lingji, rode a somersault cloud, and returned to Mount Cuiyun in an instant. He struck the gate with his iron staff and shouted, "Open the gate! Open the gate! Old Sun is here to borrow the fan."

Inside, the flower girl hurried in to report, "Mistress, the one who came to borrow the fan is here again."

When the Rakshasa Woman heard this, she was full of alarm. "That damn monkey is truly capable. My treasure can fan a person eighty-four thousand li before it stops. How could he have been blown away and then come back so quickly? This time I will fan him two or three times in a row and see whether he can find his way home."

She hastily put on her armor and dress, took her swords in both hands, and came out saying, "Sun Wukong, you are not afraid of me and have come back to court death?"

Wukong laughed. "Sister-in-law, do not be so stingy. Lend me the fan for a while. Once I have sent Tripitaka across the mountain, I will return it to you. I am a man of true sincerity, not one of those who borrow and never give back."

She cursed again, "You wretched ape! What nonsense. My son's revenge has not been settled, and now you dare ask me for the fan? Do not go anywhere. Take a sword from me."

The Great Sage was not afraid in the least. He met her with his staff. They fought back and forth for five or seven rounds. The Rakshasa Woman's arms began to weaken, while Sun Wukong fought with all his strength. Then she took out the fan and waved it at him, but Wukong did not budge.

He put away his staff and laughed. "This time is not like last time. No matter how you fan, if Old Sun moves even once, I do not count as a man."

She fanned again and again, but still he did not move. The Rakshasa Woman panicked, quickly snatched back the treasure, and hurried into the cave, shutting the gate tight.

Wukong saw her shut the gate and set to work on a trick. He pulled apart his collar, put the Wind-Stilling Pill in his mouth, shook himself, and changed into a tiny locust-like insect. Through the crack of the gate he slipped inside.

There he heard the Rakshasa Woman cry, "I am thirsty, thirsty! Bring tea quickly!"

The maid brought a pot of fragrant tea and poured a bowl full, the foam rising in a white froth. Wukong was delighted. With a hum he flew down and hid beneath the tea foam. The Rakshasa Woman was desperate with thirst, took the bowl, and drank it in two or three gulps.

By then Wukong had already gone into her belly. He resumed his true form and shouted, "Sister-in-law, lend me the fan."

The Rakshasa Woman was shocked. "Little ones, have the front gate been shut?"

They all said, "It has been shut."

She said, "If it is shut, how can Sun Wukong be shouting in my house?"

The flower girl said, "He is shouting from inside your body."

The Rakshasa Woman cried, "Sun Wukong, what trick are you playing?"

Wukong said, "Old Sun has never played tricks. These are all true hands and real skills. I am already having my sport inside your noble belly, and I can see your liver and lungs plainly enough. I know you are thirsty and hungry, so I will first send you a seat-bowl to quench your thirst."

With that he stamped downward with his foot. The Rakshasa Woman could not bear the pain in her lower belly and sat on the ground, crying out.

Wukong said, "Do not refuse. I will give you a little refreshment for your hunger as well."

He thrust upward with his head. The Rakshasa Woman's heart ached so fiercely that she rolled on the ground, her face yellow and her lips white, crying, "Uncle Sun, spare my life!"

Only then did Wukong withdraw his hands and feet. "So now you know who your uncle is? Because of the Bull Demon King's face, I will spare your life. Bring me the fan at once."

The Rakshasa Woman said, "Uncle, yes, there is a fan, there is a fan. Come out and take it."

Wukong said, "Bring the fan over and let me look at it from outside."

The Rakshasa Woman called to the maid, who brought out a Plantain Fan and held it at the side. Wukong reached up from near her throat and saw it, then said, "Sister-in-law, since I have spared your life, I should not have to bore a hole from your ribs outward. Open your mouth three times."

She did as he said.

Wukong once again turned into the locust-like insect, flew out first, and settled on the Plantain Fan. The Rakshasa Woman knew nothing of it and opened her mouth three times, calling, "Uncle, come out."

Wukong resumed his true form, took the fan, and said, "Am I not here? Thank you for lending it, thank you for lending it."

He strode off at once. The little maids hurried to open the gate and let him out of the cave.

The Great Sage turned his cloud around and headed east in an instant. He lowered the cloud and stood beneath the red brick wall. Bajie was overjoyed. "Master, Senior Brother is here! He is here!"

Tripitaka came out with the old man, along with Sha Wujing, to greet him and escort him inside.

Wukong leaned the Plantain Fan against the wall and said, "Old sir, is this the fan?"

The old man said, "It is, it is."

Tripitaka was delighted. "Disciple, you have done a great deed. It was hard work finding this treasure."

Wukong said, "Hard work is one thing, but listen to who this Iron Fan Immortal really is. She is the wife of the Bull Demon King and the mother of Red Boy. Her name is Princess Iron Fan, also called the Rakshasa Woman. I went to borrow the fan and she brought up old grudges, even cutting me a few times with her sword. I showed her my staff, and she blew me away with the fan.

I was fortunate enough to meet Bodhisattva Lingji, who gave me a Wind-Stilling Pill and pointed me back. I then returned to Mount Cuiyun and met the Rakshasa Woman again. She waved the fan, but it could not move me, so she went back inside. I changed into a tiny locust and flew into the cave. Just then she was asking for tea, and I slipped beneath the foam and into her belly, where I made her suffer until she begged me, calling me uncle, and willingly lent me the fan. I spared her and came back with it. Once we get across Flame Mountain, I will return it to her."

Tripitaka thanked him again and again.

The four of them all took leave of the old man and went west. After about forty li, the heat rose again until the air itself seemed to steam. Sha Wujing kept saying, "The soles of my feet are burning."

Bajie added, "My claws are hurting from the heat."

The horse, more restless than usual, moved with unusual speed, because it could not bear the heat.

Wukong said, "Master, please dismount for a moment. Brothers, do not go on yet. Let me wave out the fire, and after the wind and rain have passed and the ground has cooled, we can cross the mountain."

He did indeed raise the fan and went straight to the fire. He put forth all his strength and waved once. The mountain fire leaped up with a red roar.

He waved a second time, and the fire rose ten times higher.

He waved a third time, and the flames towered a thousand zhang high, closing around him. Wukong hurried back, but by then two tufts of his hair had already been burned away.

He ran straight to Tripitaka and cried, "Go back! Go back! The fire is coming. The fire is coming!"

Tripitaka climbed back onto the horse with Bajie and Sha Wujing, and they retreated east for more than twenty li before stopping. Tripitaka asked, "Wukong, how did it go?"

Wukong threw down the fan. "It will not do. It will not do. I was tricked by that woman."

Tripitaka's brows drew together. His heart grew heavy, and tears began to flow without stopping. "What can we do?"

Bajie said, "Brother, why did you cry 'go back' in such a hurry?"

Wukong said, "When I waved the fan once, the fire roared up; on the second wave, the fire grew even fiercer; on the third, the flame shot up a thousand zhang. If I had not run fast, even my hairs would have been burned away."

Bajie laughed. "You always say thunder cannot hurt you and fire cannot burn you. Why are you afraid of fire now?"

Wukong said, "You fool, you know nothing. That time I was on guard, so I was not hurt. Today I was only trying to wave out the fire, and I did not use the fire-avoidance spell, nor did I set the body-protecting method to work, so two tufts of hair were burned away."

Sha Wujing said, "If the fire is this fierce, there is no road west. What should we do?"

Bajie said, "Just go where there is no fire."

Tripitaka asked, "Where is there no fire?"

Bajie said, "The east, south, and north all have no fire."

Tripitaka asked, "Where, then, are the scriptures?"

Bajie said, "The scriptures are in the west."

Tripitaka said, "I only want to go where the scriptures are."

Sha Wujing said, "Where the scriptures are, there is fire; where there is no fire, there are no scriptures. Truly this leaves us between advance and retreat."

While the pilgrims were talking nonsense, someone called out, "Great Sage, no need to trouble yourself. Come have some vegetarian food first and then we will discuss the matter."

When they looked back, they saw an old man wearing a cloak that fluttered like the wind, a half-moon cap, and dragon-headed staff, with iron boots on his feet. Behind him came a fish-faced ghost carrying a copper basin on his head, and in the basin were steamed cakes, millet porridge, and rice.

The old man bowed on the west road and said, "I am the Earth Deity of Flame Mountain. Knowing that the Great Sage is protecting the holy monk and cannot go forward, I have come to offer a vegetarian meal."

Wukong said, "The meal is a small matter. When can this fire be put out, so that my master may cross?"

The Earth Deity said, "To put out the fire, you must ask the Rakshasa Woman to lend the Plantain Fan."

Wukong picked up the fan from the roadside and said, "Is this not the fan? Yet the more I wave it, the worse the fire gets. Why?"

The Earth Deity looked at it and laughed. "This fan is false. She deceived you."

Wukong said, "How, then, do I get the true one?"

The Earth Deity bowed lower still and smiled faintly. "If you want the true Plantain Fan, you must seek the Bull Demon King."

But what that Bull Demon King has to do with the matter, and how the road will be found, that must wait for the next chapter.