Chapter 81: At Sea-Quelling Monastery the Mind-Monkey Knows the Monster; in Black Pine Forest the Three Search for Their Master

Now to return: Tripitaka and his disciples reached Sea-Quelling Monastery, where the monks greeted them and prepared a vegetarian feast. The four of them ate their fill, and the woman was given enough to ease her hunger as well. By the time the sky had grown dark, lamps were being lit in the abbot's chamber.

The monks, partly because they wanted to hear how Tripitaka had come west to seek the scriptures and partly because they could not take their eyes off the woman, crowded together beneath the lamplight.

Tripitaka said to the lama monk at first sight, "Abbot, when we leave tomorrow and go west from this treasure mountain, how is the road?"

The monk dropped to both knees. Startled, the elder caught him by the arm and said, "Abbot, please rise. I am only asking about the road. Why such ceremony?"

The monk said, "Reverend master, the road west tomorrow is smooth and level. You need not worry. Only there is one awkward matter. I should have spoken of it the moment you came in, but I feared offending your greatness. Now that the meal is over, I dare to say it plainly. Since you have come from afar and are weary from the road, the little monks can sleep in their own room. As for this lady bodhisattva, she is not very convenient. We do not know where best to put her for the night."

Tripitaka said, "Abbot, do not think ill of us. My disciples have no evil intent. This morning, when we passed through Black Pine Forest, we found this woman tied to a tree. My youngest disciple, Sun Wukong, did not want to save her, but I took pity and released her. Since we are here now, just let her sleep wherever you see fit."

The monk thanked him. "Since the reverend master is so generous, let her sleep in the Hall of the Heavenly Kings. Set up a straw bed behind the Heavenly Kings' images, and let her rest there."

Tripitaka said, "Excellent, excellent."

At once the little monks led the woman to sleep behind the hall. The elder stayed in the abbot's chamber, where the heads of the house invited him to make himself at ease, and then the company dispersed.

Tripitaka told Wukong, "You have worked hard. Go to bed early and rise early."

So they all slept in one place, none daring to leave their master's side. Night deepened. Truly:

The jade rabbit climbed high and all the sounds of the night grew still; the heavenly street was quiet, and not a footstep moved.
The Milky Way shone bright with scattered stars; the drum tower beat out the watches in order.

The night's gossip need not be told.

At dawn Wukong rose and had Bajie and Brother Sha gather the luggage and pack the horse, then asked Master to set out. The elder, however, was still greedily asleep and had not yet woken.

Wukong came close and called, "Master."

Tripitaka lifted his head a little but did not answer.

Wukong asked, "What is the matter, Master?"

The elder groaned, "Why do my head and eyes feel so heavy, and why does my whole body ache in my skin and bones?"

Bajie heard this and reached out to feel him. He was warm to the touch.

The fool laughed. "I know what it is. Last night he saw free food and ate several extra bowls, then slept with his head bent down. He has hurt his stomach."

Wukong snapped, "Nonsense. Let me ask Master myself."

Tripitaka said, "In the middle of the night I got up to ease myself and forgot to put on my cap. I think the wind must have blown on me."

Wukong said, "That sounds more like it. Can you travel now?"

Tripitaka said, "I cannot even sit up. How could I mount a horse? I am only afraid we will delay the road."

Wukong said, "Master, what sort of talk is that? As the saying goes, 'A day as teacher, a lifetime as father.' We are your disciples, like sons to you. Another saying goes, 'A child is not raised with gold and silver, only with timely care.' Since you are ill, what does it matter if we delay a few days? You need only rest."

So the brothers attended to their master. Before they knew it, morning had passed into noon, noon into dusk, and dusk into another dawn.

Three full days slipped by. On the third day, Tripitaka sat up and said, "Wukong, I have been sick for two days and have not had the chance to ask: has that woman who escaped death been given anything to eat?"

Wukong laughed. "Master, mind your own illness first. What concern is she of yours?"

Tripitaka said, "Yes, yes. Help me up. Bring me paper, brush, and ink, and borrow an inkstone from the monastery."

Wukong asked, "What for?"

The elder said, "I want to write a letter, with the travel pass enclosed. You can take it to the imperial capital and deliver it to the Tang emperor."

Wukong said, "That is easy enough. Old Sun is no good at many things, but if you speak of delivering a letter, I am the best in the world. Get the letter ready and hand it to me. I can somersault to Chang'an, deliver it to the Tang king, and somersault back again before your brush and ink are dry. But why send a letter? First tell me the words, and then write them down."

The elder wept and said:

I, your servant monk, bow three times with my head to the ground. May ten thousand years be shouted for our sacred sovereign.
The civil and military ranks can all see and know it, the princes and officials together.
I once left the Eastern Land by imperial decree, hoping to reach Lingshan and meet the World-Honored One.
But on the road I met danger and hardship, and who could have guessed that calamity would overtake me halfway there?
A monk sick in bed can no longer press on, and the Buddha's gate lies far beyond the reach of heaven.
A scripture without a life to carry it is only wasted labor. I therefore beg permission to send another man in my place.

When Wukong heard this, he could not help laughing.

"Master, you are far too fainthearted. You have only a little sickness, and already you think of this. If you were truly at the point of life and death, you would only need to ask me. Old Sun has his own way: which King Yama would dare stir? Which judge would dare issue a writ? Which ghostly messenger would dare come and fetch you? If they angered me, I would take out my Heaven-Rousing temper again, batter my way into the netherworld, seize the ten kings of hell, and tear the sinews from each of them. I would not spare them."

Tripitaka said, "Disciple, I am ill. Do not brag in this way."

Bajie stepped forward and said, "Brother, since Master says he is not well, just say he is well. There is no need to make such a scene. Let us settle things early. We can sell the horse, pawn the luggage, buy a coffin, and send off the funeral fire."

Wukong said, "You fool, there you go talking nonsense again. You do not know this.

Master is the Buddha Tathagata's second disciple. In former days he was called the Elder Golden Cicada. Because he slighted the Buddha's teaching, he had to suffer this great trial."

Bajie said, "Brother, if Master slighted the Buddha's Law and was banished back to the Eastern Land, then he had already suffered enough, wandering through the sea of right and wrong and the field of speech and dispute, taking on a human body by transformation, vowing to go west and bow before the Buddha and seek the scriptures, being bound whenever he met demons and hung up whenever he met monsters. He has suffered all that pain. Why should he then be made sick?"

Wukong said, "What do you know? Master was listening to the Buddha preach and dozed off for a moment. In that one try he stepped on a grain of rice with his left foot, and so he has had these three days of illness in the lower world."

Bajie cried out, "Then by that logic I have dropped food all over the place since I was little. I do not know how many years of sickness I ought to have."

Wukong said, "Brother, the Buddha does not keep track of the common herd the way you do. You do not understand. As the poet said:

At noon the farmer hoes the grain, sweat dripping to the soil beneath.
Who can know that every grain in the bowl came from bitter labor?

Master only needs one day. Tomorrow he will be fine."

Tripitaka said, "Today is different from yesterday. My throat is terribly dry. Go and find some cool water for me to drink."

Wukong said, "Good. If Master wants water, that means he is already better. I will go fetch some."

He took the bowl and went to the kitchen in back to draw water. There he saw the monks with red eyes, all weeping and choking back tears, though none dared cry aloud.

Wukong said, "You monks are too tender-hearted. We are staying a few days and then leaving. I will thank you when we go and settle the firewood money by the day. Why are you all so limp?"

The monks all dropped to their knees in panic.

"We do not dare, we do not dare."

Wukong said, "Why not? Did my big-mouthed monk eat up your capital?"

The monks said, "Old lord, this wilderness mountain has a hundred monks, great and small. If each of us supported you for one day, we could feed you for a hundred days. How could we dare begrudge the food? We would never be so petty."

Wukong said, "If you are not begrudging the food, then why are you crying?"

The monks said, "Old lord, there is some evil spirit from the mountains haunting this monastery. At night we send two little monks to ring the bell and strike the drum, but after the bells and drums sound, no one ever comes back. The next day, when we search, we find only monk caps and shoes lying in the rear garden, with the bones still there. The thing has eaten the men alive. Since you have stayed three days, six monks from our monastery have vanished.

That is why my brothers cannot help being afraid and grieving. When we saw that your master was ill, we did not dare speak of it. But we could not hold back our tears."

Wukong heard this and was both startled and delighted.

"No need for more words. It must be a monster devouring people here. I will wipe him out for you."

The monks said, "Old lord, no spirit is truly a spirit unless it can fly and hide itself. As the old saying goes, 'Trust not the straight in the straight man, and guard against a man's lack of mercy.'

Do not blame us for saying this: if you can catch him, then you will have cut out the root of disaster for our poor mountain, and that would be a blessing beyond three lives. But if you cannot catch him, there will be no end of trouble."

Wukong said, "What trouble?"

The monks said, "To speak truthfully, old lord, our mountain has a hundred monks, but every one of us shaved his head young.

Hair long? We cut it. Robe thin? We patch it. In the morning we wash our faces, fold our hands, and take refuge in the Great Way. At night we prepare the incense, clack our teeth, and recite Amitabha with sincerity. When we lift our heads, we see the nine grades of the lotus Buddha-land, the ship of compassion of the three vehicles, and the clouds of Dharma. We wish to see the Lord Buddha in the Jetavana grove, bow our heads, take the Five Precepts, ferry the great thousand worlds, and awaken from the stubborn emptiness into the emptiness of form.

When the faithful come and go, old and young, tall and short, fat and thin, we all beat the wooden fish and strike the bronze chimes, crowding our way through the two scrolls of the Lotus Sutra and the one book of Repentance to the King of Liang. When the faithful do not come, new and old, plain and pretty, we clasp our hands, close our eyes, and sit in meditation on our cushions, keeping the moonlit gate tightly shut.

We do not care if the orioles and birds quarrel outside. We do not even practice the great vehicle of mercy and convenience. Because of that, we cannot subdue tigers or dragons, and we know nothing of demons or spirits.

If you anger that monster, our hundred monks will be enough for him to dine on. First, our beings will be dragged into the wheel of rebirth; second, this old monastery's relics will be wiped out; and third, there will be not one spark left to shine at the Buddha's assembly. Those are the troubles we fear."

Wukong heard this and flew into a rage.

"You miserable monks! You only know the monster and know nothing of Old Sun's doings?"

The monks answered softly, "To tell the truth, we do not know."

Wukong said, "Then listen while I tell you. I have subdued tigers and dragons on Flower-Fruit Mountain, and I have made havoc in Heaven.

When I was hungry, I would nibble two or three of Laozi's elixir pills. When I was thirsty, I would lightly drain six or seven cups of the Jade Emperor's wine. My golden eyes, half black and half white, could see through the dim sky and the blurred moon. My Golden-Hooped Rod was neither too short nor too long, and it moved without shadow or trace.

What do I care for big fiends and small? I treat them as loose and shabby as old rags. One chase and they run, shiver, hide, and panic; one catch and I crush, burn, grind, and pound them. It is exactly like the Eight Immortals crossing the sea, only I show my own divine art. Monks, I will capture this monster for you, and then you will know who Old Sun is."

The monks heard this and nodded to themselves. "This shaved devil talks big. He must have some history."

One of them said, "Wait a moment. Your master is already ill. It is not urgent to catch the monster. As the saying goes, 'At a feast, if you do not get drunk you still get your fill; in battle, if you do not die you are already hurt.' If you fight him and it delays your master, that would not be wise."

Wukong said, "That is true. I will first bring the cold water to Master, then come back."

He picked up the bowl, filled it with cold water, and carried it back to the abbot's chamber. "Master, drink your cold water."

Tripitaka was thirsting badly. He raised his head, took the bowl in both hands, and drank only one swallow. Indeed:

When you are thirsty, one drop is sweet dew; when the right medicine is found, the sickness leaves at once.

Wukong saw the elder's spirit brighten, and his brows and eyes relax. He asked, "Master, can you eat some soup and rice now?"

Tripitaka said, "This cold water is like a miracle pill. The illness is already half gone. I can eat some soup and rice."

Wukong shouted at once, "My master is better. Bring soup and rice!"

The monks hurried to prepare, rinsing rice and cooking it, rolling noodles, making flat cakes, steaming buns, and serving flour soup. Four or five tables were brought in.

Tripitaka could only manage half a bowl of rice gruel. Wukong and Brother Sha took one table between them, and the rest all went down the throat of Bajie, who ate everything in sight. After the utensils were cleared away and the lamps lit, the monks all dispersed.

Tripitaka said, "How many days have we stayed here?"

Wukong said, "Three full days. By tomorrow evening it will be four days."

Tripitaka said, "Three days have cost us a great deal of road."

Wukong said, "Master, it does not count. We will go tomorrow."

Tripitaka said, "True enough. Even with some illness, there is no help for it."

Wukong said, "Since we are leaving tomorrow, let me first catch that monster tonight and see what sort of creature he is."

Tripitaka was startled.

"What monster do you mean?"

Wukong said, "There is a monster in this monastery. Let Old Sun catch him for you."

Tripitaka said, "Disciple, I am still sick. Why do you want to stir up trouble now? If that creature has magic, and you cannot catch him, will you not only make things worse for me?"

Wukong said, "You really do like to cool down a man's spirit. Wherever Old Sun goes, I subdue monsters. When have you ever seen me lose?"

Tripitaka caught his sleeve.

"Disciple, as the old saying goes, 'When there is room to act with ease, act with ease; when mercy can be given, give mercy.' 'What is the use of ambition compared with endurance?'

The Great Sage, seeing that his master kept pleading and would not let him subdue the demon, finally told the truth.

"Master, I will not hide it from you. That monster has already eaten people here."

Tripitaka was shocked.

"What people has he eaten?"

Wukong said, "While we have stayed here these three days, six little monks have already been eaten."

Tripitaka said, "'When the hare dies, the fox grieves; when a thing is harmed, its kind feels it.' If he has eaten monks in this monastery, then I too am a monk. I will let you go, only be careful."

Wukong said, "You need not say more. My hand will sweep him away at once."

At the lamp-lit instructions he told Bajie and Brother Sha to guard their master. Then he leaped out of the abbot's chamber and went straight to the Buddha hall to look.

The stars were out overhead, but the moon had not yet risen, so the hall was dark. He blew out true fire, lit the glass lamps, struck the drum on the east side, and rang the bell on the west. When the sound had settled, he shook himself and changed into a little monk of twelve or thirteen, wearing a yellow silk short jacket and a white robe, beating a wooden fish while reciting scripture.

By the first watch nothing happened. By the second watch, when the waning moon had just risen, he suddenly heard a rush of wind.

What a wind it was:

Black fog covered the sky and made the world dim; mournful clouds darkened the earth.
All four directions turned to spilled ink and blue wash in confusion.
At first it whipped up dust and earth; afterward it toppled trees and broke forests.
When the dust flew, starlight appeared; when the trees fell, the moonlight dimmed.
Even Chang'e had to clasp the osmanthus tree; the Jade Rabbit turned and hunted for her medicine bowl.
The nine luminary officers all shut their doors; the Four Sea Dragon Kings all barred their gates.
The city gods in the temples searched for little ghosts; how could the immortals in the air ride the wind?
The king of the underworld looked for horse-faced demons; the judges ran in confusion, hats askew.
It shook the rocks atop Kunlun and stirred the rivers and lakes into one confused flood.

Just as the wind passed, he suddenly caught the scent of orchid and musk and heard the jingle of jade pendants. He half straightened and looked up. Ah, it was a beautiful woman walking straight up to the Buddha hall. Wukong only hummed the scripture under his breath and kept his eyes lowered.

The woman came near, put one arm around him, and said, "Little reverend, what scripture are you chanting?"

Wukong said, "The one I vowed to recite."

The woman said, "Everyone else is at ease and asleep. Why are you still chanting?"

Wukong said, "I vowed to recite it. Why would I not?"

The woman hugged him and kissed him. "Come with me to the back and play awhile."

Wukong turned his head away on purpose and said, "You do not know proper behavior."

The woman said, "Can you read faces?"

Wukong said, "A little."

The woman said, "Then tell me what sort of face I have."

Wukong said, "I see a little of the woman who ran away from her in-laws."

The woman laughed. "No, no. I did not run away from my in-laws. It is only that in a former life my fate was thin, and I was married to a man too young. I did not know the bridal chamber and ran away from my husband.

Now, by chance, the stars are bright and the moon is clear, and a thousand miles can still bring people together. Since you and I are fated to meet, let us go into the back garden and be paired like phoenixes."

Wukong heard this and secretly nodded to himself.

"Those stupid monks were all lured by lust and so lost their lives. She has come now to coax me too."

So he answered lightly, "Madam, I am a novice monk and still young. I do not know anything about being paired like phoenixes."

The woman said, "If you come with me, I will teach you."

Wukong laughed inwardly. "Very well. I will go along and see how she plans to manage me."

The two of them put their arms around each other and went out of the Buddha hall, then into the rear garden. There the monster tripped him and sent him sprawling. She cried "heart darling, heart brother" all the while and reached down to pinch at his shame.

Wukong cried, "My child, you really mean to eat Old Sun."

But he caught her hand, used a small hip-throw, and sent her rolling to the ground. The monster still cried, "Heart brother, you know how to throw your mother to the ground."

Wukong thought, "If I do not strike now, when will I?"

Then he bent his waist, sprang up, showed his true form, and raised the Golden-Hooped Rod to strike her head. The monster was shocked.

She thought, "This little monk is dangerous."

When she looked again, she saw that it was the Tang monk's disciple surnamed Sun. Still, she was not afraid.

What sort of monster was she? You will know from this:

Her nose was gold, and her fur spread white as snow.
Her door was the earth itself, and she kept her dwelling safely.
For three hundred years she had gathered her breath, and she had once visited Lingshan.
She had eaten her fill of incense, flowers, and candles, and the Tathagata had ordered her down below.
She was the beloved daughter of Li Tianwang and the sworn little sister of Prince Nezha.
She was neither the bird that fills the sea nor the turtle that bears a mountain.
She did not fear the sword of Lei Huan, nor the knife of Lu Qian.
She came and went at will, whether the rivers and streams were wide or the mountains of Tai and Heng were high.
With a moonlike face and flowerlike features, she was so delicate that no one could guess she was an old rat spirit showing off a little bravado.

She relied on her own great powers and at once raised her pair of swords, clanging and ringing, blocking left and right as she gave ground to neither east nor west. Wukong was stronger, but he could not yet pin her down. The yin wind rose all around, and the waning moon lost its light.

So there the two of them went, and in the rear garden there was a fierce fight:

Yin wind rose from the ground, and the sliver moon cast only a faint gleam.
The quiet Brahma hall stood dim, the little ghosts in the corridor already fading.
In the rear garden the field had become a battlefield.
Sun the Great Sage, holy from Heaven; the rat maiden, queen among women - neither would yield in divine contest.
One twisted her fragrant heart in anger at the black-robed monk; the other glared with wise eyes and hated her new finery.
Two swords flew from her hands, yet they could not distinguish a bodhisattva woman;
one staff struck from his hand, fierce as a living vajra.
The ring of the Golden-Hooped Rod flashed like lightning; the white iron rod gleamed for a breath like stars.
Jade towers seemed to be clawed by emeralds; golden halls shattered into paired mandarin ducks.
Monkeys cried under a low moon; wild geese called across the long Chu sky.
The eighteen arhats quietly cheered, and the thirty-two heavens were all in panic.

The Great Sage was now full of spirit, and his staff never missed a step. The monster saw she could not beat him. At once her brows tightened and an idea came to her, so she turned and ran.

Wukong shouted, "You brazen thing, where are you going? Come back and yield."

She would not listen, but retreated straight away. When Wukong came close enough to give chase, she slipped off the embroidered shoe on her left foot, breathed on it with immortal breath, and muttered a spell.

"Change!"

The shoe changed into her own form, and the pair of swords kept on whirling there, while her true body flickered away in a clear wind.

Was this not the star of Tripitaka's disaster? She went straight into the abbot's chamber, carried Tripitaka off into the clouds, and in a breath was gone. Soon enough she had reached Sink-Sky Mountain, entered the Bottomless Cave, and ordered her little ones to prepare a vegetarian wedding feast. We need not dwell on that here.

Wukong fought until he was hot with rage. When he found only the shoe, he struck it once and knew he had been fooled. He hurried back to see his master, but there was no master to be found. All he saw was Bajie and Brother Sha, both of them babbling and muttering some words.

Wukong's fury filled his chest. He did not care right or wrong, grabbed his staff, and struck in every direction. He cried out, "I will beat you to death, both of you! Beat you to death!"

Bajie was so frightened he had nowhere to run. Brother Sha, being a veteran general from Lingshan, had seen too much and knew how to soften and yield. He came forward, knelt down, and said, "Brother, I know. You think of killing the two of us because we did not rescue Master and only came back on our own."

Wukong said, "If I kill you two, I will save him myself."

Brother Sha smiled. "Brother, where is that talk coming from? Without the two of us, it is just as the saying goes: one thread does not make a rope, and one hand cannot clap. Brother, who is to guard the luggage and horse? Better to imitate Guan and Bao dividing gold than Sun and Pang competing in cleverness.

As the old saying goes, 'To fight a tiger, you need brothers; to go into battle, you need father and sons.' Please spare the beating for now. At dawn we will join forces and search for Master together."

Though the Great Sage had great powers, he also understood right and wrong and recognized the moment. Seeing Brother Sha beg him so earnestly, he softened.

"Bajie, Sha Wujing, get up. Tomorrow we will look for Master. But we must put our strength into it."

Bajie, hearing that he was spared, was so relieved he wished the sky would split in half for joy.

"Big Brother, put it all on Old Pig."

The three of them sat and thought through the night, never once sleeping. They longed for dawn, for the sun to rise from the Fusang tree and sweep the stars away.

They sat until daybreak. Then they packed up to leave. The monks of the monastery had already come to the gate and asked, "Where are you going, old lords?"

Wukong laughed. "It is hard to say. Yesterday I boasted before everyone that I would capture the monster, but I have not yet caught him, and now my master is missing. We are going to search for him."

The monks cried out in fear, "Old lord, our little affair has brought disaster on your teacher. Where are you going to look?"

Wukong said, "There is a place to look."

The monks hurriedly said, "Since you are going, do not be in a rush. At least eat some morning vegetarian food."

They quickly brought out two or three tubs of soup and rice.

Bajie ate every last bit and licked the dishes clean.

"Good monks, when we have found our master, we will come back here and play."

Wukong said, "Come back here to eat their food? You had better go and look in the Hall of the Heavenly Kings to see if the woman is still there."

The monks said, "No, no, old lord, she is gone. She slept there one night, and the next day she was nowhere to be seen."

Wukong took his leave of the monks in high spirits, told Bajie and Brother Sha to lead the horse and carry the luggage, and headed back east.

Bajie said, "Brother, you have made a mistake. Why are we going east again?"

Wukong said, "Do you not know? The woman bound in Black Pine Forest the other day, Old Sun saw through her completely, while you all thought her a good person. The monk she ate here today and the one who carried off Master are both her doing. You were helping a fine bodhisattva all right. Now that she has taken Master, we will follow the old road and search again."

The two of them sighed in admiration.

"Good, good. You really are cunning inside and coarse outside. Let us go, let us go."

The three hurried back into the forest. There they saw:

Clouds and mist all around, stones in tier upon tier, roads twisting and coiling. Fox tracks and rabbit prints crossed one another; tigers, leopards, wolves, and jackals came and went. There was no sign of the monster in the forest, and no one knew what had become of Tripitaka.

Wukong grew anxious. He drew his staff and changed himself into the battle form of his Havoc in Heaven days, with three heads and six arms, six hands working three staffs, and he beat wildly through the woods.

Bajie saw this and said, "Brother Sha, senior brother has lost his temper. He cannot find Master, so he has gone into a rage and turned himself into a thunder god."

As Wukong beat along, he drove out two old men, one the mountain god and one the earth god. They came forward on their knees and said, "Great Sage, the mountain god and earth god have come to pay respects."

Bajie said, "What a gifted root. He beat all the way and shook out a mountain god and earth god. If he keeps beating, he may drag out the year god too."

Wukong asked, "Mountain god, earth god, why are you so rude as to gather bandits here? The bandits get away with it, buy pigs and sheep to sacrifice to you, and then join up with the monsters to carry off my master. Where is he hidden now? Speak honestly, quickly, and if you do not, I will beat you."

The two gods panicked.

"Great Sage, you have wronged us. The monster is not on our mountain and is not under our care. Only when the night wind rises do we know a little."

Wukong said, "Since you know, then speak."

The earth god said, "That monster carried your master off to the south, a thousand li away. There is a mountain there called Sink-Sky Mountain. In that mountain is a cave called the Bottomless Cave. It was a monster from that mountain who came here and changed shape to carry him off."

Wukong heard this and was secretly alarmed. He sent the mountain god and earth god away, withdrew his dharma body, and returned to his true form. Then he said to Bajie and Brother Sha, "Master has been taken far away."

Bajie said, "If he is far away, then let us pursue him on the clouds."

The fool went first on a wild wind, Brother Sha followed on a cloud, the White Dragon Horse, being a dragon prince by origin, also rode the wind and mist while carrying the luggage, and the Great Sage went on a somersault cloud. Straight south they went.

Before long they saw a great mountain blocking the cloud's feet. The three of them caught the horse and steadied their clouds.

The mountain looked like this:

It pressed up against the blue sky, with peaks touching the clear firmament. On every side were countless mixed trees, and flocks of birds crying on the wing. Tigers and leopards moved in packs; deer and antelope traveled in herds. On the sunny side, rare flowers and jade grasses gave off fragrance; on the shaded side, hard frost and frozen ice would not melt. The ridges were steep and broken, the cliffs sharp and sheer. High peaks stood straight, and deep ravines wound around below. The pines were thick, the rocks bright, and a traveler could feel his heart turn cold at the sight. No woodcutter showed his face, and no herbal boy could be seen. In front of the eye, tigers and leopards stirred up mist; over the ground, foxes churned the wind.

Bajie said, "Brother, such a steep and perilous mountain must have evil spirits."

Wukong said, "No need to say it. A mountain this high is bound to have monsters, and a ridge this sharp is bound to have demons."

He said to Brother Sha, "Let us stay here for a moment while Bajie goes down into the hollow to ask the way. See which road is easiest, whether there is truly a cave here, and where the gate is opened. Find out every detail so that the three of us can go together and rescue Master."

Bajie said, "Old Pig has the worst luck. I am the one who gets sent to play the errand."

Wukong said, "Last night you said all the trouble was on your shoulders. How can you back out now?"

Bajie said, "All right, all right. Stop shouting. I will go."

He set down his rake, brushed his clothes, changed nothing but his empty hands, and hopped down the mountain to look for a road.

As for what happened on this journey, that must wait for the next chapter.