Chapter 46: The Wayward Immortal Bests the True Dharma; The Mind Ape Reveals His Divinity and Destroys All Evil

The king, seeing that Sun Wukong possessed the magical power to summon dragons and command spirits, stamped the travel document with the imperial seal and was about to hand it to Tang Sanzang, allowing him to proceed westward. The three Taoist priests, in a panic, knelt down in the Golden Throne Hall to make an appeal. The emperor immediately descended from his dragon throne and personally helped them up, saying, “National Masters, why do you perform such great courtesy today?” The Taoist priests replied, “Your Majesty, we have come here to support the state, protect the country, and pacify the people, enduring hardship for twenty years. Now this monk flaunts his magical powers, seizes people, and ruins our reputation. Your Majesty, by granting a single rain, pardons the crime of murder—does this not belittle us? We beg Your Majesty to temporarily withhold his travel document and allow us brothers to contend with him once more, to see what outcome results.” The king, being utterly muddled, swayed east when told east and west when told west, and indeed withdrew the document, saying, “National Master, how will you compete with him?” Tiger Strength Great Immortal said, “I will compete with him in sitting meditation.” The king said, “National Master, you are mistaken. That monk is of the Chan school by upbringing; he must already understand Chan principles to dare receive the imperial decree to seek scriptures. How can you compete with him in this?” The Great Immortal said, “My sitting meditation is different from the ordinary. It has a special name, called ‘Cloud Ladder Displaying Sagehood.’” The king asked, “What is ‘Cloud Ladder Displaying Sagehood’?” The Great Immortal said, “It requires a hundred tables, fifty forming one meditation platform, stacked one upon another. One may not climb up by hand, nor use ladders or stools to ascend. Each person rides a cloud to reach the top of the platform and sit down, remaining motionless for several hours.” The king, seeing the difficulty, issued a decree and asked, “Monk, my National Master wants to compete with you in ‘Cloud Ladder Displaying Sagehood’ sitting meditation. Can you do it?” When the heard this, he hesitated and did not answer. Zhu Bajie said, “Brother, why don’t you speak?” The replied, “Brother, to tell you the truth, if it were things like kicking down the sky, digging wells, stirring up the seas, overturning rivers, carrying mountains, chasing the moon, shifting stars—all kinds of clever feats—I can do them all. Even beheading, brain-splitting, gutting, heart-cutting, or strange contortions don’t frighten me. But when it comes to sitting meditation, I lose. Where do I have the patience to sit still? Even if you locked me to an iron pillar, I’d still be climbing and fidgeting—no way I could stay seated.” Sanzang suddenly spoke up, “I can sit in meditation.” The, delighted, said, “Perfect, perfect. How long can you sit?” Sanzang said, “In my youth, I encountered a wandering Chan monk who preached the Way. On the fundamental nature of life and destiny, I settled my mind and preserved my spirit, and even at the threshold of life and death, I sat for two or three years.” The said, “Master, if you sit for two or three years, we might as well give up on fetching the scriptures. At most, it’s two or three hours, then you come down.” Sanzang said, “Disciple, but I cannot ascend.” The said, “You step forward and accept the challenge; I will send you up.” That elder, indeed, pressed his palms together before his chest and said, “Poor monk can sit in meditation.” The king decreed the setting up of meditation platforms. With the state’s power to move mountains, in less than half an hour, two platforms were erected, one on each side of the Golden Throne Hall. Tiger Strength Great Immortal descended the hall, stood in the center of the steps, gave a leap, mounted a mat-like cloud, and went straight to sit on the western platform. The plucked a hair, transformed it into a decoy body to accompany Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, standing below; he himself turned into a five-colored auspicious cloud, lifted Tang Sanzang into the air, and set him directly down on the eastern platform. Then he withdrew the auspicious light, transformed into a cicada-like insect, and flew to Zhu Bajie’s ear, saying, “Brother, keep a close watch on the master, and don’t talk to my substitute anymore.” That idiot laughed and said, “Understood, understood.” Now, Deer Strength Great Immortal had been sitting on an embroidered stool watching for some time. The two on the high platforms were evenly matched, so this Taoist decided to help his elder brother: he plucked a short hair from the back of his head, rolled it into a ball, flicked it upward, and it landed directly on Tang Sanzang’s head, transforming into a large bedbug that bit the elder. At first, the elder felt an itch, then pain. Now, in sitting meditation, one must not move one’s hands; moving them counts as a loss. For a moment, the pain was unbearable. He shrank his head and rubbed against his collar for relief. Zhu Bajie said, “Oh no, the master’s having an epileptic fit.” Sha Wujing said, “No, it’s a headache.” The overheard this and said, “My master is a man of utmost sincerity. If he said he can sit in meditation, he certainly can; if he said he can’t, he just can’t. A gentleman—how could he lie? You two, say no more. Let me go up and see.” Good—with a buzz, he flew onto Tang Sanzang’s head and saw a bedbug the size of a bean biting his master. He quickly pinched it off with his hand and scratched and rubbed for the master. The elder, no longer in pain or itch, sat upright. The thought to himself, “A monk’s head is bald—not even a louse can settle there. How did this bedbug appear? It must be some trick from that Taoist to harm my master. Haha, since we’re still tied, let old Sun go play a trick on him!” This flew up, landed on the animal-head ornament of the golden hall, shook himself, and transformed into a seven-inch-long centipede, going straight to the Taoist’s nostril and stinging him. The Taoist, unable to stay seated, tumbled down with a somersault, nearly losing his life. Fortunately, many high and low officials helped him up. The king, greatly alarmed, ordered the chief attendant to lead him to the Wenhua Hall to wash and dress. The then rode the auspicious cloud, carried the master down the steps, and the elder had won. The king only ordered them to proceed. But Deer Strength Great Immortal again memorialized, “Your Majesty, my elder brother originally suffered from an occult wind illness. When he reached that height, he caught the heavenly wind, and his old ailment flared up, allowing the monk to win. Please detain him and let me compete with him in ‘Guessing Behind a Board.’” The king asked, “What is ‘Guessing Behind a Board’?” Deer Strength said, “Poor Taoist has the magic to know objects behind a board. Let’s see if the monk can match it. If he guesses correctly against me, let him go; if not, Your Majesty may convict him according to the law, avenging my brother’s grievance and not dishonoring the twenty years of service to the state.” The king, utterly confused, heeded this slander and decreed: Have a vermilion-lacquered chest brought to the hall by the eunuchs. Tell the queen to place a treasure inside. Shortly, it was carried out and set on the white jade steps, and the king commanded the monk and the Taoist, “Each of you, test your magic powers by guessing what treasure is in the chest.” Sanzang said, “Disciple, how can we know what’s inside the chest?” The gathered his auspicious light, transformed back into a cicada-like insect, and clung to Tang Sanzang’s head, saying, “Master, rest assured; let me go take a look.” Good Great Sage, he gently flew onto the chest, crawled down to the chest’s foot, and found a crack in the board. He slipped inside and saw a red lacquer tray containing a set of palace robes: a Mountain and River State Robe and a Heaven and Earth Realm Skirt. He picked them up with his hand, rumpled them, bit the tip of his tongue, sprayed a mouthful of blood, and shouted, “Change!” They transformed into a tattered, worn-out, one-piece garment. Before leaving, he also urinated on it with a foul spray. Then he crawled back out through the board crack, flew to Tang Sanzang’s ear, and said, “Master, just guess it’s a tattered, worn-out, one-piece garment.” Sanzang said, “He’s calling it a treasure to guess; what kind of treasure is ‘worn-out’?” The said, “Never mind that; just guess it.” Tang Sanzang stepped forward and was about to guess, when Deer Strength Great Immortal said, “I’ll guess first: the chest contains a Mountain and River State Robe and a Heaven and Earth Realm Skirt.” Tang Sanzang said, “No, no. The chest contains a tattered, worn-out, one-piece garment.” The king said, “This monk is insolent! How dare he mock our kingdom for having no treasures? Guessing a ‘worn-out, one-piece garment’? Seize him!” The two rows of guards were about to move. In panic, Tang Sanzang pressed his palms together and cried out, “Your Majesty, please spare poor monk for a moment. Let the chest be opened and examined. If it truly is a treasure, poor monk will accept punishment; if it is not, would that not be unjust to poor monk?” The king ordered the chest opened. The attending officer immediately opened it, brought out the red lacquer tray, and looked—indeed, it was a tattered, worn-out, one-piece garment. The king, furious, said, “Who placed this object here?” From behind the dragon throne, the three palace empresses stepped forward and said, “My lord, it was I who personally placed the Mountain and River State Robe and the Heaven and Earth Realm Skirt. I don’t know how it turned into this.” The king said, “Empress, please withdraw. I understand. What is used in the palace is nothing but satins and silks; where would this ‘worn-out’ thing come from?” He ordered, “Lift the chest up; let me personally hide a treasure and test again.” The emperor then went to the rear palace, picked a large peach from the fairy peach tree in the imperial garden—as big as a bowl—placed it in the chest, and had it carried down for guessing again.

Tang Sanzang said, "Disciple, here you go guessing again." Sun Wukong replied, "Don't worry, let me go have another look." With a buzz, he flew off again, still slipping through the crack in the board, and saw that it was a peach, just what he wanted. So he revealed his true form, sat down inside the chest, and gobbled up the peach completely, even cleaning the flesh off both cheeks, leaving only the pit inside. He then turned back into a tiny cicada-like insect, flew out, and perched on Tang Sanzang's ear, saying, "Master, just guess that it's a peach pit." The elder said, "Disciple, don't make a fool of me. If I hadn't spoken quickly earlier, I'd have nearly been taken away for execution. This time I must guess a treasure. What kind of treasure is a peach pit?" Sun Wukong said, "Don't be afraid, just go ahead and win against him."

As Sanzang was about to speak, he heard the Goat Strength Immortal say, "Let me, the poor priest, guess first: it's a celestial peach." Sanzang guessed, "It's not a peach, but a bare peach pit." The king shouted, "I placed a celestial peach with my own hands, how could it be a pit? The third royal master guessed correctly." Sanzang said, "Your Majesty, open it and see." The attending officials lifted it up again, opened it, and brought out the jade plate—it was indeed a pit, with neither skin nor flesh left. Seeing this, the king was startled and said, "Royal Master, don't compete with him anymore; let him go. The celestial peach I hid with my own hands is now just a pit—who ate it? It must be that some spirit is secretly helping him." When Zhu Bajie heard this, he sneered slightly and said to Sha Wujing, "He doesn't know that this fellow is an old hand at eating peaches."

Just as they were speaking, Tiger Strength Immortal, having finished washing and combing in the Literary Splendor Hall, came up to the court and said, "Your Majesty, this monk has the magic of moving and substituting objects. Lift the chest up here, and I'll break his spell and compete with him again." The king said, "Royal Master, what else do you wish to guess?" Tiger Strength said, "Magic can only affect objects, not a living person. Hide this young acolyte inside, and I guarantee he won't be able to swap him out." So the young acolyte hid inside the chest, the lid was closed, and it was carried down. The king called out, "You monk, guess again—what treasure is this third round?"

Sanzang said, "Here we go again!" Sun Wukong said, "Let me go have another look." With a buzz, he flew over again, slipped inside, and saw that it was a young boy. Oh, great sage, truly knowledgeable—his skill at transformation was unmatched in the world, and his cleverness was rare indeed. He shook himself and changed into the form of an old Daoist priest, entered the chest, and called out, "Disciple." The boy said, "Master, where did you come from?" Sun Wukong said, "I came by a magic escape method." The boy said, "What instructions do you have?" Sun Wukong said, "That monk saw you come into the chest; if he guesses 'acolyte,' won't we lose again? I've come specially to discuss with you: shave your head, and we'll guess 'monk' instead." The boy said, "Whatever you say, Master, as long as we can win against him. If we lose to him again, it won't just lower our reputation; I'm also afraid the court won't respect us." Sun Wukong said, "Well said. Come here, my child. If we win, I'll reward you heavily." He turned his golden cudgel into a barber's razor, embraced the boy, and said, "Good child, bear the pain, don't make a sound, and let me shave your head." In a moment, he cut off all the hair, rolled it into a ball, and stuffed it into a crack in the chest's corner. He put away the razor, felt the boy's bald head, and said, "My child, your head looks like a monk's, but your clothes don't match. Take them off, and I'll change them for you." The acolyte was wearing a crane-feather robe of pale green with cloud-shaped and floral embroidery trimmed in brocade. He took it off. Sun Wukong blew a divine breath and said, "Change!" It turned into a simple brown robe and put it on him. Then he plucked two hairs, turned them into a wooden fish, and handed it to the boy, saying, "Disciple, you must listen carefully: if they call for 'acolyte,' don't come out; but if they call for 'monk,' push open the chest lid, knock the wooden fish, and chant a Buddhist sutra as you come out—only then will we succeed." The boy said, "I only know how to chant the 'Three Officials Sutra,' the 'Northern Dipper Sutra,' and the 'Disaster Relief Sutra'; I don't know any Buddhist sutras." Sun Wukong said, "Can you recite the Buddha's name?" The boy said, "Amitabha, who can't recite that?" Sun Wukong said, "Alright, alright, just recite the Buddha's name, and I won't have to teach you. Remember this well—I'm off." He turned back into a tiny cicada-like insect, slipped out, flew to Tang Sanzang's ear, and said, "Master, just guess 'monk.'" Sanzang said, "This time he'll surely win." Sun Wukong said, "How do you know?" Sanzang said, "The sutras say: 'The three treasures are the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha.' A monk is one of the treasures."

Just as they were speaking, Tiger Strength Immortal said, "Your Majesty, this third round is an acolyte." He kept calling, but the boy wouldn't come out. Sanzang pressed his palms together and said, "It's a monk." Zhu Bajie shouted at the top of his voice, "Inside the chest is a monk." Suddenly, the boy pushed open the chest lid, knocked the wooden fish, and chanted the Buddha's name as he came out. The delighted civil and military officials cheered in unison. The three Daoist priests were so frightened they were struck dumb.

The king said, "This monk has the help of spirits. How did a Daoist go into the chest and come out a monk? Even if an attendant went in with him, they could only shave his head; how did his clothes also fit, and his mouth chant the Buddha's name? Royal Master, let him go." Tiger Strength Immortal said, "Your Majesty, it's a match of equals, a meeting of talents. Let me, the poor priest, use the martial arts I learned in my youth at Zhongnan Mountain and compete with him outright." The king said, "What martial arts?" Tiger Strength said, "My two brothers and I all have some supernatural powers: we can cut off our heads and put them back on; cut open our bellies and scoop out our hearts, and they'll grow back; bathe in a cauldron of boiling oil." The king was greatly startled and said, "These three things are all paths to death." Tiger Strength said, "We have this magic power, so we dare to boast like this. We must settle the victory or defeat." The king then called out, "Monk from the East, my royal master won't let you go; he wants to compete with you in head-chopping, belly-splitting, and bathing in boiling oil."

Sun Wukong, who had turned into a tiny cicada-like insect to deliver the news, suddenly heard this. He immediately withdrew his hairs, revealed his true form, and laughed heartily, saying, "Good fortune, good fortune! Business has come to the door." Zhu Bajie said, "These three things are all matters of life and death; how do you call that business coming to the door?" Sun Wukong said, "You still don't know my skills." Zhu Bajie said, "Elder Brother, you've already shown enough transformations and shifts; how can you have such skills?" Sun Wukong said, "As for me:

When my head is chopped off, I can still speak;

When my arms are cut off, I can still strike people.

When my legs are severed, I can still walk;

When my belly is split, it mends perfectly.

Just like making dumplings at home—

Squeeze one, and it's whole again.

Bathing in a cauldron of oil is even easier;

It's just like washing off dust in warm water."

When Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing heard this, they laughed heartily.

Sun Wukong stepped forward and said, "Your Majesty, this little monk knows how to chop off heads." The king said, "How do you know how to chop off heads?" Sun Wukong said, "When I was cultivating in the temple, I once met a wandering Chan monk who taught me a head-chopping method. I don't know if it's good or not, but now I'd like to try it out." The king laughed and said, "This young monk doesn't understand things. How can chopping off a head be tried out? The head is the seat of the six yang energies; once cut off, you die." Tiger Strength said, "Your Majesty, that's exactly what we want, so we can vent our anger." The foolish king believed his words and issued a decree to set up an execution ground.

At the decree, three thousand imperial guards lined up outside the court gate. The king ordered, "Let the monk go first to have his head cut off." Sun Wukong cheerfully replied, "I'll go first, I'll go first." He clasped his hands and called out loudly, "Royal Master, forgive my boldness in taking the lead." He turned and walked out. Tang Sanzang grabbed him and said, "Disciple, be careful. This is no place for games." Sun Wukong said, "What's there to fear? Let go of my hand, and let me go."

The Great Sage went straight into the execution ground, where the executioners seized him, tied him up in a bundle, and pressed him down on the high earthen mound. They heard a shout: "Strike!" With a swoosh, his head was cut off. Then an executioner kicked it away, and it rolled like a watermelon for thirty or forty paces. No blood came from the monkey's torso. Only a voice was heard from within his belly: "Head, come back!" This so frightened the Deer Strength Immortal that, seeing such skill, he recited a spell and ordered the local spirits and gods of the ground: "Hold that head back. Once I have beaten the monk and reported to the king, I will have your small shrine expanded into a great temple, and your clay statues gilded with real gold." Now, because those local spirits and gods were under his command due to his mastery of the Five Thunder Magic, they secretly held the monkey's head in place. The monkey called out again: "Head, come back!" But the head seemed to have taken root and could not move. The monkey grew anxious, clenched his fists, strained, and snapped all the ropes binding him. He shouted, "Grow!" and with a swoosh, a head grew out of his torso. The executioners were all terrified, and the imperial guards trembled with fear. The supervising official hurried into the court to report: "Your Majesty, the little monk had his head cut off, but another grew back." Eight Rules sneered, "Brother Sha, who knew elder brother had such skills." Sha Monk said, "He has seventy-two transformations, so he has seventy-two heads."

Before the words were finished, the monkey came over and called out, "Master." Tripitaka was overjoyed and said, "Disciple, was it hard?" The monkey replied, "Not hard, it was fun." Eight Rules asked, "Brother, do you need some ointment for the knife wound?" The monkey said, "Feel for yourself—is there any scar?" The idiot reached out and touched it, then laughed foolishly, "Wonderful, wonderful! It grew back perfectly, not even a trace of a scar."

While the brothers were all rejoicing, they heard the king summon them to receive the travel document: "I pardon your offense. Go quickly, go quickly." The monkey said, "Though I have received the document, the National Teacher must also go to the execution ground and have his head cut off, as a test of something new." The king said, "Great National Teacher, that monk won't let you off. You are to compete with him; just don't frighten me." Tiger Strength had no choice but to go. Several executioners tied him to the ground, flashed a blade, cut off his head, and kicked it away, rolling it over thirty paces. No blood came from his torso either, and he also called out, "Head, come back!" The monkey quickly pulled out a hair, blew on it with immortal breath, and commanded, "Change!" It turned into a yellow dog, which ran into the field, snatched the Taoist's head in its mouth, and ran straight to the Imperial River, where it dropped it—no more of that.

Now, the Taoist called three times, but the head did not return. Unlike the monkey's skill, it could not grow back. From his torso, red blood gushed out with a gurgling sound. Pity that he, who had the power to summon wind and rain, could not compare to an immortal of the fruit of eternal life. In a moment, he fell to the dust. When the crowd looked, it was a headless yellow-haired tiger.

The supervising official came again to report: "Your Majesty, the Great National Teacher's head was cut off and could not grow back. He died in the dust, and his form is a headless yellow-haired tiger." When the king heard this report, he was greatly alarmed and stared unblinkingly at the other two Taoists. Deer Strength rose and said, "My elder brother's fate and fortune have ended. How could he be a yellow tiger? This is all the doing of that hateful monk, using some illusion to turn my brother into a beast. Today I will certainly not spare him. I must compete with him in belly-cutting and heart-gouging."

Only then did the king calm his mind. He called out again, "Little monk, the Second National Teacher still wants to compete with you." The monkey said, "I, the little monk, have not eaten cooked food for a long time. A few days ago, while coming from the west, I met a benefactor who urged me to eat, and I had a few extra steamed buns. Since then, my stomach has ached, and I think I have worms. I was just thinking of borrowing Your Majesty's knife to cut open my belly, take out my organs, wash my stomach and intestines clean, so that I can go west to see the Buddha." When the king heard this, he ordered, "Take him to the execution ground." Many people helped him, pulling and dragging. The monkey shook off their hands and said, "No need for help; I'll go myself. But one thing: don't tie my hands, so I can wash my organs myself." The king issued a decree: "Do not bind his hands."

The monkey swayed and swaggered straight to the execution ground. He leaned against the big post, untied his belt, and exposed his belly. The executioner put a rope around his neck and another around his legs, then flashed a short ox-ear knife, cut into his belly, and made a hole. With both hands, the monkey tore open his belly, took out his intestines and organs, sorted them out one by one for a good while, then put them back inside as before, coiling them up. He pinched his belly, blew on it with immortal breath, and commanded, "Grow!" and it healed shut.

The king was greatly shocked. He took the travel document in his hands and said, "Holy monk, do not delay your journey west. I give you your document, go." The monkey laughed and said, "The travel document is a small matter. How about asking the Second National Teacher to also cut and gouge himself?" The king said to Deer Strength, "This matter has nothing to do with me. It was you who opposed him. Go, go." Deer Strength said, "Rest assured, I will certainly not lose to him."

Look at him, also like the Great Sage Sun, swaying and swaggering straight into the execution ground. The executioners put a rope on him, and with a whoosh, the short ox-ear knife cut open his belly. He also took out his liver and intestines and handled them with his hands. The monkey promptly pulled out a hair, blew on it with immortal breath, and commanded, "Change!" It turned into a hungry eagle, which spread its wings and sharp claws, and with a swoosh, snatched up all his five organs and heart, flying off to who knows where to feast. This Taoist became a ghost with an empty cavity and a torn belly, a wandering soul lacking organs and intestines. The executioner kicked over the big post and dragged the corpse to look. Ah! It turned out to be a white-haired horned deer.

This so frightened the supervising official that he came again to report: "The Second National Teacher met with bad luck. While he was cutting open his belly, a hungry eagle snatched away all his organs, liver, and intestines. He died there, and his original form is a white-haired horned deer." The king said fearfully, "How could it be a horned deer?" Then the Goat Strength Immortal came forward and said, "My elder brother is dead; how could he appear in animal form? This is all the monk's magic harming us. Let me avenge my brothers." The king said, "What magic do you have to defeat him?" Goat Strength said, "I will compete with him in bathing in a cauldron of boiling oil." The king then ordered a large cauldron to be brought, filled with sesame oil, and commanded the two to compete. The monkey said, "Thank you for your care. I, the little monk, haven't bathed in a long time. These past few days, my skin has been itchy, so I might as well take a dip."

The attendant officials indeed set up the oil cauldron, piled up dry firewood, lit a blazing fire, and brought the oil to a rolling boil. They ordered the monk to go first. The monkey pressed his palms together and said, "I don't know if this is a civil bath or a martial bath." The king said, "What is a civil bath? What is a martial bath?" The monkey said, "A civil bath means not taking off clothes. You fold your arms like this, jump in, roll over, and get up, without dirtying the clothes. If there's even a speck of grease, you lose. A martial bath means taking a clothes rack and a towel, taking off your clothes, jumping in, and freely turning somersaults, standing on your head, bathing as if playing." The king said to Goat Strength, "Do you want to compete with him in civil or martial bath?" Goat Strength said, "A civil bath—I'm afraid his clothes might be treated with medicine to repel oil. Let's do a martial bath."

The monkey stepped forward and said, "Forgive my boldness for taking the lead repeatedly." Look at him—he took off his cloth robe, slipped off his tiger-skin kilt, and with a leap, jumped into the cauldron. He tumbled and frolicked in the waves, playing as if swimming. When Eight Rules saw this, he bit his hand and said to Sha Monk, "We misjudged this monkey. Usually we joke and bicker with him to tease him, but how were we to know he had such real skills?" The two of them muttered and praised him endlessly.

The monkey saw this and thought suspiciously, "That idiot is laughing at me. Truly, 'the clever work hard while the clumsy take it easy.' I'm putting on this show, and he's at ease. Let me fix him—tie him up with a rope and see if he's scared." While bathing, he made a splash, sank to the bottom of the oil cauldron, and turned into a date-pit nail, never coming up again.

The supervising official approached and reported, "Your Majesty, the little monk has been boiled to death in the hot oil." The king was overjoyed and ordered the bones to be fished out for inspection. The executioner took an iron skimmer and fished in the oil cauldron. But the skimmer had wide holes, and the monkey had changed into something small; it slipped through the holes as it came and went, and could not be caught. He reported again, "The monk's body was small and his bones tender; they've all been fried away." The king ordered, "Arrest the three monks." The guards on both sides, seeing Eight Rules' fierce appearance, first seized him and tied up his back.

In panic, Sanzang called out loudly, “Your Majesty, forgive me for a moment. My disciple, ever since he took refuge in the Buddhist faith, has rendered meritorious service on every occasion. Today he offended the National Master and died in the cauldron of oil, yet the one who died first has already become a spirit. How dare I, a humble monk, cling to life and fear death? It is just as the officials of the realm govern the people of the realm. If Your Majesty commands a subject to die, how dare that subject refuse to die? I only beg your great mercy to grant me half a bowl of cold gruel and water and three sheets of spirit money, and allow me to go before the oil cauldron to burn this stack of paper, thereby expressing the feelings between me and my disciple. After that, I shall accept my punishment.” When the king heard this, he said, “That is reasonable. Most people from the Central Plains are indeed loyal and righteous.” He ordered that some gruel and paper money be brought to him. They were indeed fetched and handed to Tang Sanzang.

Sanzang called Sha Monk to accompany him. When they reached the foot of the steps, several officers pulled Zhu Bajie by the ears and dragged him to the side of the cauldron. Sanzang faced the cauldron and prayed, saying, “Disciple Sun Wukong: Since you received the precepts and took refuge in the Chan grove, you have protected me on my westward journey with deep kindness and affection. We hoped to cultivate the Great Way together, but who would have thought that today you would return to the shades? In life, you only sought to obtain the scriptures; in death, you still harbor the mind of reciting the Buddha’s name. Your heroic soul must wait through ten thousand miles, and even as a ghost in the underworld, you must ascend to Thunderclap Monastery.” When Bajie heard this, he said, “Master, that is not the right way to pray. Sha Monk, you pour the gruel and offer the paper for me; let me say the prayer.” The idiot, bound on the ground, said angrily, “Troublesome, reckless monkey! Ignorant! Damned, reckless monkey! Oil-fried! The monkey is finished; the is done for.” Sun the Pilgrim, at the bottom of the oil cauldron, heard the idiot’s random curses and could not restrain himself. He revealed his true form, stood naked on the bottom of the cauldron, and said, “You worthless, stupid fool! Who are you cursing?” When Sanzang saw him, he said, “Disciple, you’ve frightened me to death!” Sha Monk said, “Elder Brother is clearly used to pretending to be dead.”

In panic, the civil and military officials on both sides stepped forward and memorialized, “Your Majesty, that monk did not die; he has crawled out of the oil cauldron again.” The execution supervisor, fearing he might have deceived the court, also memorialized, “Dead he certainly was, but the day is inauspicious, and the lesser monk is manifesting his spirit.” When the Pilgrim heard this, he flew into a rage, leaped out of the cauldron, wiped off the grease, put on his clothes, pulled out his staff, grabbed the execution supervisor, and struck him on the head, smashing him into a lump of flesh, saying, “What spirit am I manifesting?” The terrified officials quickly untied Bajie and knelt on the ground, begging, “Forgive us, forgive us.” The king descended from his dragon throne, but the Pilgrim went up to the hall, grabbed him, and said, “Your Majesty, don’t run away. I want you to order the Third National Master to jump into the oil cauldron as well.” The emperor, trembling with fear, said, “Third National Master, save my life. Quickly get into the cauldron, and don’t let the monk harm me.”

Yang Li descended from the hall, stripped off his clothes just as the Pilgrim had done, and jumped into the oil cauldron, likewise pretending to bathe. The Pilgrim released the king, approached the edge of the cauldron, and called for the fire-tenders to add more fuel. He then reached out and touched the oil. Ah! The boiling oil was perfectly cold. He thought to himself, “When I bathed, it was scalding hot; when he bathes, it is cold. I know now—some dragon king must be here protecting him.” He immediately leaped into the air, recited the “Om” spell, and summoned the Dragon King of the Northern Sea. “I’ll turn you into a horned earthworm, a scaly loach! How dare you help that Daoist and use a Cold Dragon to protect the bottom of the cauldron, letting him display his saintly power to defeat me?” The terrified Dragon King quickly replied, “Ao Shun would never dare to help. Great Sage, you are unaware that this vile creature has practiced austerities for a long time and shed his original shell. Only the Five Thunder Magic is truly effective for him; all his other arts are heretical and cannot lead to immortality. This ‘Great Flaying’ technique he learned on Little Mao Mountain. The other two, the Great Sage has already broken their spells and revealed their true forms. As for this one, he has cultivated a Cold Dragon himself, but it can only fool worldly people. How could it deceive the Great Sage? I, the little dragon, will now take back his Cold Dragon, and I guarantee that his bones will be broken and his skin scorched.” The Pilgrim said, “Hurry up and take it away, or I’ll beat you.” The Dragon King turned into a whirlwind, went to the edge of the oil cauldron, caught the Cold Dragon, and took it down to the sea.

The Pilgrim came down and stood before the hall with Sanzang, Bajie, and Sha Monk. They saw the Daoist struggling in the boiling oil cauldron, unable to climb out. He slipped and fell, and in an instant, his bones separated, his skin was scorched, and his flesh was ruined.

The execution supervisor again memorialized, “Your Majesty, the Third National Master has been fried to a crisp.” The king’s eyes filled with tears. He struck the imperial table with his hand and wailed loudly, saying:

“A human body is indeed hard to obtain; without true transmission, do not refine the elixir.

In vain you possess the arts of summoning spirits and controlling waters, yet you lack the pills to prolong life and preserve health.

Perfect brightness and chaos—how can one achieve nirvana? In vain you exert your mind, yet your life remains uneasy.

Had I known early that such a light defeat would come, how much better to have eaten in secret and dwelt quietly in the mountains?”

This is truly:

“What use is alchemy to turn lead into gold? Summoning wind and calling rain is always in vain!”

If you do not know how the managed to carry on, listen to the explanation in the next chapter.