Chapter 86: Wood Mother Helps to Quell the Monsters; Metal Father Uses Magic to Destroy the Demons

Great Sage Sun, leading the horse and carrying the load, searched all over the mountain calling for his master, when suddenly he saw Zhu Bajie rushing over, huffing and puffing, saying, “Elder Brother, what are you shouting for?” Pilgrim said, “The master is missing. Have you seen him?” Bajie said, “I only became a monk to follow Tang Sanzang in the first place, and you tricked me into playing the general. I risked my life, fought that demon a good fight, and barely escaped with my skin. The master was under your watch and Sha Monk’s; why come asking me?” Pilgrim said, “Brother, I’m not blaming you. You don’t know how your eyes got blurry, letting the demon back to grab the master. I went to fight that demon and left Sha Monk to guard the master, but now even Sha Monk is gone.” Bajie laughed and said, “Maybe Sha Monk took the master to relieve himself somewhere.” Before he finished speaking, Sha Monk arrived. Pilgrim asked, “Sha Monk, where did the master go?” Sha Monk said, “Both of you were bleary-eyed, letting the demon in to seize the master. I went to fight that demon, but the master was sitting on the horse himself.” Pilgrim stamped his foot in a rage and said, “Fallen into his trap, fallen into his trap!” Sha Monk said, “What trap did you fall into?” Pilgrim said, “This is the ‘Plum-Blossom Petal Plan’ to split us up. He took the chance to snatch the master from the middle. Heaven, heaven! What’s to be done?” He couldn’t help the tears streaming down his cheeks. Bajie said, “Don’t cry; crying makes you a coward. Anyway, it’s not far—right on this mountain. Let’s just go search for him.”

The three, having no other choice, entered the mountain to search. After walking about twenty miles, they saw beneath a steep cliff a cave dwelling:

Towering peaks mirrored each other, strange and grotesque rocks rose high. Exotic flowers and fragrant herbs gave off sweet scents; red apricots and green peach blossoms bloomed brightly. Before the cliff, an ancient tree, its bark smooth from rain, measured forty spans around; outside the gate, a green pine, its dark hue soaring to the sky, stood two thousand feet tall. Paired wild cranes often came to the cave mouth, dancing in the clear breeze; matched mountain birds always perched on the branches, calling at the daylight. Clumps of yellow vines hung like ropes; rows of misty willows drooped like golden threads. A square pond held water; a deep cave leaned against the mountain. The square pond’s water hid scaly creatures not yet turned dragons; the deep cave by the mountain housed old demons who had eaten men for years. Truly, it rivaled a paradise, a fine lair for gathering wind and storing vital energy.

When Pilgrim saw it, he bounded up in two or three steps to the door and looked. The stone gate was tightly shut, and across it was laid a stone slab with eight large characters: “The Cyclic Cavern of the Hidden Mist Mountain.” Pilgrim said, “Bajie, get to work. This is the demon’s dwelling. The master must be inside.” That dull-witted fellow, relying on his strength, raised his rake and struck with all his might, smashing a large hole in the stone gate, and shouted, “Demon, send my master out quickly, or I’ll knock down the gate with my rake, and your whole family will be finished.”

The little demon guarding the gate rushed in to report, “Great King, trouble has come.” The old monster said, “What trouble?” The little demon said, “Someone at the gate has broken through the door and is yelling for the master!” The old monster was startled and said, “I wonder who’s come looking?” The vanguard said, “Don’t be afraid. Let me go out and see.” That little demon ran to the front gate and, through the broken hole, stuck out his head to look. Seeing it was a long-snouted, big-eared fellow, he turned back and shouted loudly, “Great King, don’t fear him—it’s Zhu Bajie. He’s no match and won’t dare be rude. If he is, open the gate, grab him, and steam him for eating. The one to fear is that hairy-faced, thunder-goblin-mouthed monk.” Bajie, hearing this from outside, said, “Brother, he doesn’t fear me, only you. The master must be in his place. You go up quickly.” Pilgrim cursed, “Vicious beast! Your grandfather Sun is here. Send my master out, and I’ll spare your life.” The vanguard said, “Great King, trouble—Pilgrim Sun has come too.” The old monster complained, “It was all your idea, this ‘petal-petal’ plan, and it’s brought disaster to our door. How are we to end this?” The vanguard said, “Great King, rest easy. Don’t blame me yet. I recall that Sun Pilgrim is a magnanimous monkey. Though his divine powers are vast, he loves flattery. Let’s take a fake head out to fool him, say a few flattering words, and claim we’ve eaten his master. If we can drive him off, Tang Sanzang is still ours to enjoy. If we can’t fool him, we’ll think of another plan.” The old monster said, “Where do we get a fake head?” The vanguard said, “Let me make one and see.”

Good demon! He took a fine steel knife and axe, chopped a willow root into the shape of a human head, sprayed some human blood on it, and made it all messy. He then had a little demon carry it on a lacquer tray to the gate and call out, “Great Sage Sun, Grandfather, calm your anger and hear me.” Sun Pilgrim, indeed fond of flattery, hearing the cry “Great Sage Sun, Grandfather,” stopped Bajie and said, “Hold your hand. Let’s hear what he has to say.” The little demon with the tray said, “Your master was taken into the cave by our great king. The little demons in the cave are crude and ignorant, not knowing good from bad. One swallowed, another gnawed; grabbing and biting, they ate your master, leaving only this head.” Pilgrim said, “If he’s eaten, that’s that. Just bring out the head, and I’ll see if it’s real or fake.” That little demon tossed the head through the hole in the gate. When Zhu Bajie saw it, he wept and said, “Pitiful! That master went in like that, and comes out like this!” Pilgrim said, “Dullard, first recognize if it’s real or fake before you cry.” Bajie said, “Shameless! How can a head have real or fake?” Pilgrim said, “This is a fake head.” Bajie said, “How do you know it’s fake?” Pilgrim said, “When a real head is thrown out, it makes no sound as it falls; a fake head makes a clatter like a wooden clapper. If you don’t believe me, let me throw it and you listen.” He picked it up and hurled it against a stone, and it went clang. Sha Monk said, “Elder Brother, it made a sound.” Pilgrim said, “A sound means it’s fake. Let me make it show its true form for you.” He quickly drew out his gold-banded cudgel and struck it with a pow. When Bajie looked, it was a willow root. The dull-witted one couldn’t help cursing, “You bunch of hairy lumps! You’ve hidden my master in the cave and used a willow root to fool your ancestor Zhu. Is my master a willow-tree spirit?”

The little demon carrying the tray, trembling with fear, ran back and reported, “Hard, hard, hard, hard, hard, hard!” The old demon said, “Why so many ‘hards’?” The little demon said, “Zhu Bajie and Sha Monk were fooled, but Sun Pilgrim is an antique dealer—he knows goods. He recognized the fake head. Now we must get a real human head for him, and maybe he’ll go away.” The old demon said, “How do we get a real head? Pick one from the leftover human heads in the Flaying Pavilion.” The demons went to the pavilion, chose a fresh head, had the scalp cleaned off till it was smooth and slippery, and brought it out on a tray, calling, “Great Sage Sun, Grandfather, the first one was indeed fake. This one is truly Lord Tang’s head. Our great king kept it to guard the house, but today he offers it specially.” With a thud, they tossed another human head through the hole in the gate, bloody and rolling wildly.

Sun Wukong recognized it as a real human head, but there was nothing he could do, so he wept. Zhu Bajie and Sha Monk also joined in loud crying. Bajie, with tears in his eyes, said, "Elder Brother, don't cry just yet. The weather isn't good, and it might soon stink. Let me take it, while there's still some life left, and bury it before we cry." The Great Sage replied, "That's reasonable." The idiot, not minding the filth or stench, took the head in his arms, ran to a sunny spot on the cliff, found a place sheltered from the wind, used his rake to dig a pit, buried the head, and then raised a grave mound. Only then did he call to Sha Monk, "You and Elder Brother keep crying, while I go find some offerings." He then went to the stream, broke off a few large willow branches, and picked up some round pebbles. Returning to the grave, he stuck the willow branches on either side and piled the pebbles in front. The Great Sage asked, "What's the meaning of this?" Bajie said, "These willow branches count as pines and cypresses to shade Master's grave; these pebbles count as snacks to offer to Master." The Great Sage scolded, "You blockhead! Since he's already dead, why use stones as offerings?" Bajie replied, "It's just to show the living's intentions, as a token of filial piety." The Great Sage said, "Stop your nonsense. Let Sha Monk stay here: first, to guard the grave, and second, to watch the luggage and the horse. You and I will break into his cave, capture the demon, and chop him into a thousand pieces to avenge Master." Sha Monk, weeping, said, "Elder Brother speaks very truly. You two put your hearts into it; I'll keep watch here."

Good Bajie immediately took off his black robe, tightened his undergarments, lifted his rake, and followed the Great Sage. The two advanced with all their might, and without any further words, smashed the stone gate with a roar that shook the heavens, shouting, "Give us back our living Tang Monk!" The horde of small demons inside, terrified out of their wits, all complained of the vanguard's fault. The old demon asked the vanguard, "These monks have broken in; what shall we do?" The vanguard said, "As the ancients said well: 'Once your hand's in the fish basket, you can't avoid the smell.' With one thing done, we might as well do another. Let's just lead our troops and kill those monks." The old monster, hearing this, had no other plan, and indeed issued orders: "Little ones, let everyone be of one mind; take your sharpest weapons and follow me out to battle." With a great shout, they all charged out of the cave.

The Great Sage and Bajie quickly retreated a few steps to a level spot on the mountain, where they confronted the demon horde and shouted, "Which one is the famous leader? Which is the demon who captured my master?" The demon host formed a battle line; a brocade flag fluttered once, and the old monster, wielding an iron pestle, called out loudly, "You reckless monk! Don't you recognize me? I am the Great King of the Southern Mountain, who has roamed here for centuries. Your Tang Monk is already captured and eaten by me; what can you do about it?" The Great Sage cursed, "You audacious furball! How old can you be, to dare call yourself 'Southern Mountain'? Lord Laozi, the ancestor of heaven and earth, still sits to the right of the Supreme Purity; Tathagata Buddha, the honored one of the world, still sits beneath the Great Peng; Confucius, the sage of the Confucian school, is merely called 'Master.' You beast, how dare you call yourself 'Great King of the Southern Mountain' and boast of centuries of roving? Don't run away—taste your grandpa's staff!" The demon dodged sideways, parried the iron staff with his pestle, glared with wide eyes, and said, "You look like a monkey; how dare you overwhelm me with so many words? What skills do you have to act so arrogantly before my gate?" The Great Sage laughed, "You nameless beast! You don't know old Sun. Stand still, steel your nerve, and listen to me:

'My home is in Dongsheng Shenzhou,

Heaven and earth have held me for countless autumns.

On Flower-Fruit Mountain, a stone egg lay,

When it split, I was born that day.

Not born of mortal kind,

My sacred body from sun and moon did find.

Self-cultivated by nature, no small feat,

Heavenly talent, the great elixir complete.

Officially titled Great Sage, I ruled the cloud domain,

In power and strife, the Dipper I'd disdain.

A hundred thousand divine troops couldn't near me,

All the stars in the sky I'd easily flee.

My fame spreads through the universe far and wide,

My wisdom fills the world, nowhere to hide.

Now fortunate to follow the Buddha's way,

I aid the elder on his westward journey today.

Opening roads through mountains, none can block,

Building bridges over streams, demons in shock.

In forests I show might, tigers and leopards I slay,

On cliffs I capture beasts without delay.

From the east I've come true to the west,

What demon dares to put us to the test?

You beast who harmed my master, hateful and vile,

I'll make sure your life ends in a short while.'"

The monster, hearing this, was both startled and enraged. Gnashing his teeth, he leaped forward and struck at the Great Sage with his iron pestle. The Great Sage lightly parried with his staff, wanting to continue talking, but Bajie couldn't restrain himself. He drew his rake and wildly attacked the vanguard. The vanguard led all the demons in a charge. This battle on the level mountain ground was truly a fierce fight:

Monks from the great eastern land,

Seeking true scriptures in the western paradise.

The Southern Mountain great leopard spewed wind and mist,

Blocking the road in the deep mountain, showing his might.

With clever tricks and cunning schemes,

He ignorantly captured the Tang Monk of Tang.

Meeting the Great Sage with vast powers,

And Bajie with his famous name.

Demons fought wildly on the level ground,

Dust flew high, the sky was unclear.

On that side, small demons roared,

Spears and swords wildly raised;

On this side, divine monks shouted,

Rakes and staffs together blazed.

The Great Sage, a hero without a peer,

Bajie, strong and delightfully crude.

The old monster of South Peak and his vanguard,

All for a piece of Tang Monk's flesh,

Risked death and forgot life.

These two made foes over Master's life,

Those two, for Tang Monk, were filled with strife.

They fought back and forth for many rounds,

Ramming and crashing, no winner found.

The Great Sage Sun saw that the small demons were fierce and wouldn't retreat despite repeated strikes, so he used his body-dividing spell. He plucked a handful of hairs, chewed them in his mouth, spat them out, and shouted, "Change!" They all turned into copies of himself, each wielding a golden-banded staff, and charged from the front inwards. The one or two hundred small demons, unable to guard front and back, or cover left and right, each fled for their lives, retreating in defeat to the cave. The Great Sage and Bajie then killed their way out from the formation. Pitiful were those demons who didn't know their place: those hit by the rake bled from nine holes; those struck by the staff had their bones and flesh turned to mud. The terrified Great King of the Southern Mountain, rolling in wind and mist, barely escaped with his life. The vanguard, unable to transform, was quickly knocked down by the Great Sage's staff, revealing his true form: an iron-backed grey wolf monster. Bajie stepped forward, grabbed its leg, turned it over, and said, "This wretch must have stolen who knows how many piglets and lambs to eat since he was young." The Great Sage shook himself, gathered back his hairs, and said, "Idiot, don't delay. Hurry after the old monster and demand Master's life." Bajie turned around and saw that all the small copies of the Great Sage had vanished. "Elder Brother, your magical forms are all gone," he said. The Great Sage replied, "I've already taken them back." Bajie exclaimed, "Wonderful, wonderful!" The two returned in triumph, overjoyed.

Now, the old monster, having escaped with his life back to the cave, ordered the small demons to move stones and carry earth to block the front gate. The surviving demons, trembling with fear, sealed the gate and dared not come out again. The Great Sage led Bajie to the gate, shouting, but no one answered from inside. When Bajie tried to smash the gate with his rake, he couldn't budge it. The Great Sage realized this and said, "Bajie, don't waste your strength. He's blocked the gate." Bajie said, "If the gate's blocked, how can we avenge Master?" The Great Sage replied, "Let's go back to the grave and check on Sha Monk."

The two returned to the spot and saw Sha Monk still crying. Bajie became even more distressed. He dropped his rake, prostrated himself on the grave, and pounded the earth with his hands, crying, "Oh, ill-fated Master! Master from a distant land! When will I see you again?" The Great Sage said, "Brother, don't grieve too much. This demon blocked the front gate, so there must be a rear entrance for coming and going. You two stay here while I go search again." Bajie, wiping tears, said, "Elder Brother, be careful. Don't let yourself be caught too, or we'll be in a sorry state, unable to cry properly: crying once for Master, once for Elder Brother—we'd be all mixed up." The Great Sage said, "Don't worry, I have my ways."

The Great Sage, putting away his staff and adjusting his skirt, strode forward when he suddenly heard the sound of gurgling water. Turning to look back, he saw it came from a stream in the ravine, rushing down from the upper reaches. On the other side of the stream, he spotted a gate, with a hidden drainage ditch to its left. He said, "No need to explain! That must be the back gate. If I go in my original form, some little demon might open the gate and recognize me. I’ll change into a water snake to cross over. But wait—if I turn into a water snake, Master’s spirit might know and blame me, a monk, for turning into a long, slithery thing. Better to become a little crab. No, that’s no good either; Master might scold me for having too many legs as a monk." So he transformed into a water rat, dashed over with a whoosh, and slipped through the drainage ditch into the inner courtyard. Peering out, he saw a little demon in the sunny spot laying out strips of dried human meat. Pilgrim said, "My boy, that must be Master’s leftover flesh, dried for rainy days. If I reveal myself and rush up to kill him with one blow, it would show I’m bold but not clever. I’ll change again and go inside to find the old fiend and see what’s what." Jumping out of the ditch, he shook himself and turned into a winged ant. Truly:

Small and weak, called the Black Steed,

Long hidden, it grows wings to speed.

By bridges it arrays its ranks,

Under beds it plays mystic pranks.

Knowing rain comes, it seals its hole,

Piling dust till it turns to coal.

Light and clever, nimble and free,

Unnoticed, it passes the door tree.

Spreading its wings, silent and shadowless, it flew straight into the main hall. There sat the old fiend, fretting in distress, when a little demon jumped out from behind and reported, "Great King, a thousand joys!" The old fiend asked, "What joy comes from where?" The little demon said, "I was just at the head of the stream behind the back gate, listening, when I heard someone wailing loudly. I climbed the peak to look, and it was Zhu Bajie, Sun Xingzhe, and Sha Heshang kowtowing and weeping over a grave. They must have taken that head for Tang Sanzang’s, buried it, and made it into a tomb to cry over." Pilgrim, hearing this in the dark, rejoiced inwardly: "If that’s the case, my master is still hidden somewhere, not yet eaten. Let me go search further to see if he’s alive or dead, then deal with them."

The Great Sage flew into the main hall, looking east and west, and saw a small door on the side, tightly shut. Slipping through the crack, he found it was a large garden, where faint sobbing could be heard. Flying deeper, he saw two people tied under a clump of large trees, one of whom was Tang Sanzang. At the sight, Pilgrim’s heart itched unbearably; unable to hold back, he revealed his original form, approached, and called out, "Master." The elder recognized him and said tearfully, "Wukong, you’ve come? Save me quickly. Wukong, Wukong." Pilgrim said, "Master, don’t keep calling my name; there are people about, and we might leak the news. Since you’re still alive, I can save you. The fiend said he’d already eaten you and used a fake head to trick me, leading us into a fierce fight. Rest assured, Master; bear it a little longer, and I’ll knock down that demon before I come to rescue you."

The Great Sage recited a spell, shook himself, and turned back into an ant, re-entering the main hall and clinging to the main beam. He saw the uninjured little demons gathering in groups, chattering noisily. Suddenly, one little demon jumped out and reported, "Great King, seeing the gate blocked and unable to break through, they’ve given up, abandoned Tang Sanzang, and made a grave out of the fake head. They’ll cry today, cry again tomorrow, and after the third day, they’ll probably go back. Once we hear they’ve dispersed, we’ll bring out Tang Sanzang, chop him fine, add plenty of spices, and fry him up fragrant. Everyone can have a piece and prolong their lives." Another little demon clapped and said, "Enough talk, enough talk; steaming him to eat would be more flavorful." Another said, "Boiling him saves firewood." Another said, "He’s a rare thing; better to salt him and preserve him for a long time." Pilgrim, hearing this from the beam, grew furious and thought, "What deep grudge does my master hold against you lot, that you scheme to eat him like this?" He plucked a handful of hairs, chewed them in his mouth, blew them out softly, and secretly recited a spell, turning them all into drowsy flies. He tossed them toward the faces of the little demons; each one entered a nostril, and the little demons gradually grew drowsy, soon all asleep. Only the old fiend couldn’t settle; he rubbed his head and face, sneezed repeatedly, and pinched his nose. Pilgrim thought, "Has he noticed? I’ll give him a ‘double lamp snuffing.’" He plucked another hair, did the same, and tossed it at his face; it entered his nostril. Two flies, one from the left and one from the right, went in. The old fiend got up, stretched his back, yawned twice, and fell into a deep sleep too.

Pilgrim, secretly pleased, jumped down and revealed his original form. Taking his staff from his ear, he shook it to the thickness of a duck’s egg, and with a crash, broke open the side door. Running to the back garden, he called out loudly, "Master!" The elder said, "Disciple, come quickly and untie the ropes; I’m bound painfully." Pilgrim said, "Master, don’t hurry; let me kill the fiend first, then I’ll untie you." Hurrying back to the main hall, he raised his staff to strike but stopped, thinking, "No good; I’ll untie Master first, then strike." He returned to the garden, then reconsidered: "Better strike first, then rescue." After going back and forth two or three times, he finally danced his way to the garden. The elder, seeing him, turned grief to joy and said, "Monkey, you must be so overjoyed that I’m not hurt that you can’t contain yourself and have to dance." Pilgrim then stepped forward, untied the ropes, and led the master away. From across the way, a man tied to a tree called out, "Great Master, show mercy and save me too." The elder stopped and said, "Wukong, untie that man as well." Pilgrim asked, "Who is he?" The elder said, "He came in a day before me. He’s a woodcutter, saying his old mother at home is very old and misses him. He’s a filial man; we might as well save him too."

Pilgrim, following his words, also untied the ropes and led them all out through the back gate, climbing the stone cliff and crossing the steep ravine. The elder thanked him, saying, "Worthy disciple, thanks to you for saving him and me. Where are Wuneng and Wujing?" Pilgrim said, "They’re both there crying over you. Call to them." The elder indeed called out loudly, "Bajie, Bajie." The idiot, dazed from crying, wiped his nose and tears and said, "Sha Heshang, Master’s spirit has come home to appear; he’s calling us over there." Pilgrim stepped forward and scolded, "Blockhead, what spirit? Isn’t this Master coming?" Sha Heshang looked up, saw him, and knelt quickly before him, saying, "Master, how much suffering you’ve endured! How did big brother rescue you?" Pilgrim recounted the whole story.

When Bajie heard this, he ground his teeth in rage, couldn’t hold back, raised his rake, and flattened the grave mound, dug out the head, and smashed it to pieces. Tang Sanzang said, "Why are you smashing it?" Bajie said, "Master, I don’t know whose dead man it was, but I cried over it." The elder said, "Thanks to it, my life was saved. If your brothers hadn’t charged the gate demanding me, they probably used it to fob me off; otherwise, I’d have been killed. Best to bury it, to show the compassion of us monks." Hearing this, the idiot buried the mess of crushed bones and flesh, piling up another grave mound.

Pilgrim laughed and said, "Master, please rest here a while. Wait until I have wiped them out clean, and then I'll come back." So he leaped down the rocky cliff, crossed the stream, and entered the cave. He took the ropes that bound the Tang Monk and the woodcutter and carried them into the main hall. The old demon was still sleeping. He tied him up with his hands and feet trussed together, pried him up with his gold-banded cudgel, hoisted him onto his shoulder, and went straight out the back door. From far off, Zhu Bajie saw this and said, "Elder Brother, you do have a knack for this kind of head-carrying business. Wouldn't it be better to find another head to make a pair and carry them on a pole?" Pilgrim came up to him, set the demon down, and Bajie raised his rake to strike. Pilgrim said, "Wait a moment. There are still little demons in the cave that haven't been caught." Bajie said, "Elder Brother, if there are any, take me inside to fight them." Pilgrim said, "Fighting them would be a waste of time. Better to find some firewood and finish them off at the root." When the woodcutter heard this, he led Bajie to a hollow in the east, where they gathered some broken bamboo shoots, withered pine branches, hollow willows, broken rattan roots, yellow mugwort, old reeds, rushes, and dry mulberry wood. They carried it all in through the back door. Pilgrim lit the fire, and Bajie fanned the flames with his ears. The Great Sage leaped up, shook himself, and withdrew the hairs that had become the sleeping insects. The little demons had just woken up when the smoke and flames engulfed them all. What a pity! Not even half a one survived. Even the cave was burned to ashes. Then they went back to see the master. When the master heard the old demon cry out as he woke up, he called out, "Disciple, the demon has awakened." Bajie stepped forward and struck the old demon dead with his rake, revealing his true form—it turned out to be a leopard spirit with speckled artemisia leaves. Pilgrim said, "A speckled hide can eat tigers, and now it could change into a man. This time we've beaten it to death, putting an end to future trouble." The elder thanked them profusely, then climbed onto his horse and mounted it. The woodcutter said, "Venerable Sir, not far to the southwest is my home. Please come to my house and see my mother, to let me kowtow and thank you for the grace of saving my life, and then I will see you on your way."

The elder gladly agreed, so he dismounted and walked along with the woodcutter and his four disciples. They headed southwest, winding their way, and before long they indeed saw:

Stone paths again overgrown with moss,

A brushwood gate entwined with vines and flowers.

On all sides, mountain light connects,

A forest of birds chirps and clamors.

Dense pines and bamboos intertwine in green,

A profusion of strange flowers and rare blooms.

In a secluded place deep in the clouds,

A thatched cottage with a bamboo fence.

From afar, they saw an old woman leaning against the brushwood gate, weeping bitterly, crying out for her son. When the woodcutter saw his own mother, he left the elder and hurried quickly to the brushwood gate, knelt down, and called out, "Mother, your son has returned." The old woman hugged him tightly and said, "My son, you haven't come home for several days. I thought the mountain lord had caught you and taken your life. My heart ached and could not bear it. Since you were not killed, why did you only come back today? Where are your rope and pole and your axe?" The woodcutter kowtowed and said, "Mother, I had indeed been caught by the mountain lord and tied to a tree. I truly had little hope of living. Fortunately, these venerable gentlemen came. This gentleman is an arhat from the East, the Tang Dynasty, who is going to the Western Heaven to fetch the scriptures. That venerable sir was also caught by the mountain lord and tied to a tree. His three disciples, who are great immortals with vast powers, beat the mountain lord to death. It turned out to be a leopard spirit with speckled artemisia leaves. All the little demons were burned to death. Then they untied that venerable sir and rescued him, and they rescued me as well. This is a kindness as vast as heaven and earth. Without them, I would certainly have died. Now the mountain has become peaceful, and even if I travel by night, there is no danger."

When the old woman heard this, she bowed with every step, welcoming the elder and his four disciples into her thatched cottage and asking them to sit down. Mother and son kowtowed and thanked them endlessly, then hastily prepared some vegetarian food to express their gratitude. Bajie said, "Brother Woodcutter, I know your household is poor. Just a simple meal will do; don't go to any trouble for a great feast." The woodcutter said, "To tell you the truth, Venerable Sir, in these mountains we are truly poor. We have no mushrooms, truffles, Sichuan pepper, or star anise—only a few wild vegetables to offer you, to show a little of our heartfelt thanks." Bajie laughed and said, "We're imposing on you, imposing on you. Just bring it out quickly; we're hungry." The woodcutter said, "Right away, right away." And indeed, before long, the tables and stools were wiped clean and set, and several plates of wild vegetables were brought out. They were:

Tender boiled daylily buds, sour pickled white dandelions. Floating pigweed and purslane, river shepherd's purse and wild chickweed. Swallow's nest, fragrant and tender; little shoots, crisp and green. Well-boiled horse-blue heads, stewed dog's-foot greens. Cat's ears, wild ground-ivy, gray amaranth cooked soft and tasty; scissors-heels, cow-trap greens, inverted-pit snails and broom-whisk cress; broken-rice cress and lettuce cress, a few kinds fragrant and smooth. Oil-fried black nightshade flowers, water chestnut stalks quite commendable. Cattail root and wild rice shoots, four kinds near water truly elegant. Look-at-mother grass, delicate and fine; ragged-robe grass, no need to wear it. Bitter hemp grows under the hedge fence. Sparrow's blanket, monkey's footprints—fried in oil, they're good to eat. Slanting mugwort, green mugwort, and mother-holding mugwort; moth flowers flying up to the buckwheat pancakes. Sheep's-ear bald, wolfberry shoots, plus blackberries without oil. Several kinds of wild greens for a meal, the woodcutter's sincere offering as thanks.

The master and disciples ate their fill, then packed up their luggage and prepared to leave. The woodcutter did not dare to keep them long; he asked his mother to come out again and offer thanks. The woodcutter only kowtowed, took a jujube wood staff, tidied his clothes, and went out to see them off. Sha Monk led the horse, Bajie carried the load, and Pilgrim walked close beside. The elder, on horseback, cupped his hands and said, "Brother Woodcutter, please guide us for a while until we reach the main road, and then we will part." Together they climbed heights and descended slopes, crossed mountain streams and sought out hillsides. The elder, on his horse, thought to himself, "My disciples,

Since parting from my sovereign lord and coming to the Western Regions,

The road has been long and far.

Through waters and mountains, disasters have come one after another;

From monsters and demons, it has been hard to escape with life.

My heart is only set on obtaining the Three Baskets of scripture;

My thoughts still seek to ascend to the Nine Heavens.

Busy and bustling, when will it ever end?

When will I complete my merit and return to the Tang Dynasty?"

When the woodcutter heard this, he said, "Venerable Sir, do not worry. This main road, if you go west for less than a thousand miles, will bring you to the Kingdom of India, the Land of Ultimate Bliss." When the elder heard this, he dismounted and said, "Thank you for escorting us so far. Since this is the main road, please return home, Brother Woodcutter, and give my regards to your honored mother. Just now we imposed upon you for a fine vegetarian meal. I, a poor monk, have nothing to give in return, but I will recite scriptures morning and evening to pray for the safety and long life of you and your mother." The woodcutter repeatedly agreed, took his leave, and returned to his own path. The master and disciples then went straight west. Truly:

Subduing demons, resolving grievances, escaping from suffering,

Receiving grace, they set out on the road with focused hearts.

If you want to know how many days it would be before they reached the Western Heaven, listen to the explanation in the next chapter.