第二十五回

第二十五回 镇元仙赶捉取经僧 孙行者大闹五庄观

却说他兄弟三众到了殿上，对师父道：“饭将熟了，叫我们怎的？”三藏道：“徒弟，不是问饭。他这观里，有甚么人参果，似孩子一般的东西，你们是那一个偷他的吃了？”八戒道：“我老实。不晓得，不曾见。”清风道：“笑的就是他！笑的就是他！”行者喝道：“我老孙生的是这个笑容儿，莫成为你不见了甚么果子，就不容我笑？”三藏道：“徒弟息怒。我们是出家人，休打诳语，莫吃昧心食。果然吃了他的，陪他个礼罢。何苦这般抵赖？”

行者见师父说得有理，他就实说道：“师父，不干我事。是八戒隔壁听见那两个道童吃甚么人参果，他想一个儿尝新，着老孙去打了三个，我兄弟人各吃了一个。如今吃也吃了，待要怎么？”明月道：“偷了我四个，这和尚还说不是贼哩！”八戒道：“阿弥陀佛！既是偷了四个，怎么只拿出三个来分，预先就打起一个偏手[1]？”那呆子倒转胡嚷。

二仙童问得是实，越加骂毁。就恨得个大圣钢牙咬响，火眼睁圆，把条金箍棒揝了又揝，忍了又忍，道：“这童子只说当面打人。也罢，受他些气儿，送他个绝后计，教他大家都吃不成！”好行者，把脑后的毫毛拔了一根，吹口仙气，叫：“变！”变做个假行者，跟定唐僧，陪着悟能、悟净，忍受着道童嚷骂；他的真身出一个神，纵云头，跳将起去，径到人参园里，掣金箍棒往树上乒乓一下，又使个推山移岭的神力，把树一推推倒。可怜叶落枒开根出土，道人断绝草还丹！那大圣推倒树，却在枝儿上寻果子，那里得有半个？原来这宝贝遇金而落，他的棒两头却是金裹之物，况铁又是五金之类，所以敲着就振下来；既下来，又遇土而入，因此上边再没一个果子。他道：“好！好！好！大家散火！”他收了铁棒，径往前来，把毫毛一抖，收上身来。那些人肉眼凡胎，看不明白。

却说那仙童骂够多时，清风道：“明月，这些和尚也受得气哩。我们就像骂鸡一般，骂了这半会，他通没个招声。想必他不曾偷吃。倘或树高叶密，数得不明，不要诳骂了他。我和你再去查查。”明月道：“也说得是。”他两个果又到园中，只见那树倒枒开，果无叶落。唬得清风脚软跌跟头，明月腰酥打骸垢[2]。那两个魂飞魄散。有诗为证。诗曰：

三藏西临万寿山，悟空断送草还丹。

枒开叶落仙根露，明月清风心胆寒。

他两个倒在尘埃，语言颠倒，只叫：“怎的好！怎的好！害了我五庄观里的丹头[3]，断绝我仙家的苗裔！师父来家，我两个怎的回话？”明月道：“师兄莫嚷。我们且整了衣冠，莫要惊张了这几个和尚。这个没有别人，定是那个毛脸雷公嘴的那厮，他来出神弄法，坏了我们的宝贝。若是与他分说，那厮毕竟抵赖；定要与他相争，争起来，就要交手相打。你想我们两个，怎么敌得过他四个？且不如去哄他一哄，只说果子不少，我们错数了，转与陪个不是。他们的饭已熟了，等他吃饭时，再贴他些儿小菜。他一家拿着一个碗，你却站在门左，我却站在门右，扑的把门关倒，把锁锁住，将这几层门都锁了，不要放他。待师父来家，凭他怎的处置。他又是师父的故人，饶了他，也是师父的人情；不饶他，我们也拿住个贼在，庶几[4]可以免我等之罪。”清风闻言道：“有理！有理！”

他两个强打精神，勉生欢喜，从后园中径来殿上，对唐僧控背躬身道：“师父，适间言语粗俗，多有冲撞，莫怪，莫怪。”三藏问道：“怎么说？”清风道：“果子不少，只因树高叶密，不曾看得明白；才然又去查查，还是原数。”那八戒就趁脚儿跷[5]道：“你这个童儿，年幼不知事体，就来乱骂，白口咀咒，枉赖了我们也！不当人子！”行者心上明白，口里不言，心中暗想道：“是谎！是谎！果子已了了帐，怎的说这般话？……想必有起死回生之法？……”三藏道：“既如此，盛将饭来，我们吃了去罢。”

那八戒便去盛饭，沙僧安放桌椅。二童忙取小菜，却是些酱瓜、酱茄、糟萝卜、醋豆角、腌窝蕖、绰芥菜，共排了七八碟儿，与师徒们吃饭；又提一壶好茶，两个茶钟，伺候左右。那师徒四众却才拿起碗来，这童儿一边一个，扑的把门关上，插上一把两铜锁。八戒笑道：“这童子差了。你这里风俗不好，却怎的关了门里吃饭？”明月道：“正是，正是，好歹吃了饭儿开门。”清风骂道：“我把你这个害馋劳、偷嘴的秃贼！你偷吃了我的仙果，已该一个擅食田园瓜果之罪，却又把我的仙树推倒，坏了我五庄观里仙根，你还要说嘴哩！若能够到得西方参佛面，只除是转背摇车[6]再托生！”三藏闻言，丢下饭碗，把个石头放在心上。那童子将那前山门、二山门，通都上了锁。却又来正殿门首，恶语恶言，贼前贼后，只骂到天色将晚，才去吃饭。饭毕，归房去了。

唐僧埋怨行者道：“你这个猴头，番番撞祸！你偷吃了他的果子，就受他些气儿，让他骂几句便也罢了，怎么又推倒他的树！若论这般情由，告起状来，就是你老子做官，也说不通。”行者道：“师父莫闹。那童儿都睡去了，只待他睡着了，我们连夜起身。”沙僧道：“哥呵，几层门都上了锁，闭得甚紧，如何走么！”行者笑道：“莫管！莫管！老孙自有法儿。”八戒道：“愁你没有法儿哩！你一变个甚么虫蛭儿，瞒格子眼里就飞将出去，只是我们不会变的，便在此顶缸[7]受罪哩！”唐僧道：“他若干出这个勾当，不同你我出去呵，我就念起旧话经儿，他却怎生消受！”八戒闻言，又愁又笑道：“师父，你说的那里话？我只听得佛教中有卷《楞严经》、《法华经》、《孔雀经》、《观音经》、《金刚经》，不曾听见个甚那‘旧话儿经’呵。”行者道：“兄弟，你不知道。我顶上戴的这个箍儿，是观音菩萨赐与我师父的；师父哄我戴了，就如生根的一般，莫想拿得下来——叫做《紧箍儿咒》，又叫做《紧箍儿经》。他说‘旧话儿经’，即此是也。但若念动，我就头疼，故有这个法儿难我。师父，你莫念，我决不负你，管情大家一齐出去。”

说话后，都已天昏，不觉东方月上。行者道：“此时万籁无声，冰轮明显，正好走了去罢。”八戒道：“哥呵，不要捣鬼。门俱锁闭，往那里走？”行者道：“你看手段！”好行者，把金箍棒捻在手中，使一个“解锁法”，往门上一指，只听得突的一声响，几层门双俱落，唿喇的开了门扇。八戒笑道：“好本事！就是叫小炉儿匠使掭子[8]，便也不像这等爽利！”行者道：“这个门儿，有甚稀罕！就是南天门，指一指也开了。”却请师父出了门，上了马，八戒挑着担，沙僧拢着马，径投西路而去。行者道：“你们且慢行。等老孙去照顾那两个童儿睡一个月。”三藏道：“徒弟，不可伤他性命；不然，又一个得财伤人的罪了。”行者道：“我晓得。”行者复进去，来到那童儿睡的房门外。他腰里有带的瞌睡虫儿，原是在东天门与增长天王猜枚耍子赢的。他摸出两个来，瞒窗眼儿弹将进去，径奔到那童子脸上，鼾鼾沉睡，再莫想得醒。他才拽开云步，赶上唐僧，顺大路一直西奔。

这一夜马不停蹄，只行到天晓。三藏道：“这个猴头弄杀我也！你因为嘴，带累我一夜无眠！”行者道：“不要只管埋怨。天色明了，你且在这路旁边树林中将就歇歇，养养精神再走。”那长老只得下马，倚松根权作禅床坐下。沙僧歇了担子打盹。八戒枕着石睡觉。孙大圣偏有心肠，你看他跳树扳枝顽耍。四众歇息不题。

却说那大仙自元始宫散会，领众小仙出离兜率，径下瑶天，坠祥云，早来到万寿山五庄观门首。看时，只见观门大开，地上干净。大仙道：“清风、明月却也中用。常时节，日高三丈，腰也不伸；今日我们不在，他倒肯起早，开门扫地。”众小仙俱悦。行至殿上，香火全无，人踪俱寂，那里有明月、清风！众仙道：“他两个想是因我们不在，拐了东西走了。”大仙道：“岂有此理！修仙的人，敢有这般坏心的事！想是昨晚忘却关门，就去睡了，今早还未醒哩。”众仙到他房门首看处，真个关着房门，鼾鼾沉睡；这外边打门乱叫，那里叫得醒来。众仙撬开门板，着手扯下床来，也只是不醒。大仙笑道：“好仙童啊！成仙的人，神满再不思睡，却怎么这般困倦？莫不是有人做弄了他也？快取水来。”一童急取水半盏递与大仙。大仙念动咒语，噀[9]一口水，喷在脸上，随即解了睡魔。

二人方醒，忽睁睛，抹抹脸，抬头观看，认得是与世同君和仙兄等众，慌得那清风顿首，明月叩头道：“师父啊！你的故人，原是东来的和尚，——一伙强盗，十分凶狠！”

大仙笑道：“莫惊恐，慢慢的说来。”清风道：“师父啊，当日别后不久，果有个东土唐僧，一行有四个和尚，连马五口。弟子不敢违了师命，问及来因，将人参果取了两个奉上。那长老俗眼愚心，不识我们仙家的宝贝。他说是三朝未满的孩童，再三不吃，是弟子各吃了一个。不期他那手下有三个徒弟，有一个姓孙的，名悟空行者，先偷四个果子吃了。是弟子们向伊理说，实实的言语了几句，他却不容，暗自里弄了个出神的手段，——苦啊！……”二童子说到此处，止不住腮边泪落。众仙道：“那和尚打你来？”明月道：“不曾打，只是把我们人参树打倒了。”大仙闻言，更不恼怒，道：“莫哭！莫哭！你不知那姓孙的，也是个太乙散仙，也曾大闹天宫，神通广大。既然打倒了宝树，你可认得那些和尚？”清风道：“都认得。”大仙道：“既认得，都跟我来。众徒弟们，都收拾下刑具，等我回来打他。”众仙领命。

大仙与明月、清风纵起祥光，来赶三藏，顷刻间就有千里之遥。大仙在云端里平西观看，不见唐僧；及转头向东看时，道：“多赶了九百馀里。”原来那长老一夜马不停蹄，只行了一百二十里路；大仙的云头一纵，赶过了九百馀里。仙童道：“师父，那路旁树下坐的是唐僧。”大仙道：“我已见了。你两个回去安排下绳索，等我自家拿他。”清风先回不题。

那大仙按落云头，摇身一变，变作个行脚全真。你道他怎生模样：

穿一领百衲袍，系一条吕公绦。手摇麈尾，渔鼓轻敲。三耳草鞋蹬脚下，九阳巾子把头包。飘飘风满袖，口唱《月儿高》[10]

。

径直来到树下，对唐僧高叫道：“长老，贫道起手了。”那长老忙忙答礼道：“失瞻！失瞻！”大仙问：“长老是那方来的？为何在途中打坐？”三藏道：“贫僧乃东土大唐差往西天取经者。路过此间，权为一歇。”大仙惊讶道：“长老东来，可曾在荒山经过？”长老道：“不知仙官是何宝山？”大仙道：“万寿山五庄观，便是贫道栖止处。”

行者闻言，他心中有物的人，忙答道：“不曾！不曾！我们是打上路来的。”那大仙指定笑道：“我把你这个泼猴！你瞒谁哩？你倒在我观里，把我人参果树打倒，你连夜走在此间，还不招认，遮饰甚么！不要走！趁早去还我树来！”那行者闻言，心中恼怒，掣铁棒不容分说，望大仙劈头就打。大仙倒身躲过，踏祥光，径到空中。行者也腾云，急赶上去。大仙在半空现了本相，你看他怎生打扮：

头戴紫金冠，无忧鹤氅穿。履鞋登足下，丝带束腰间。体如童子貌，面似美人颜。三须飘颔下，鸦翎叠鬓边。相迎行者无兵器，止将玉麈手中捻。

那行者没高没低的，棍子乱打。大仙把玉麈左遮右挡，奈[11]了他两三回合，使一个“袖褪乾坤”的手段，在云端里，把袍袖迎风轻轻的一展，刷地前来，把四僧连马一袖子笼住。八戒道：“不好了！我们都装在[12]里了！”行者道：“呆子，不是，我们被他笼在衣袖中哩。”八戒道：“这个不打紧。等我一顿钉钯，筑他个窟窿，脱将下去，只说他不小心，笼不牢，吊的了罢！”那呆子使钯乱筑，那里筑得动：手捻着虽然是个软的，筑起来就比铁还硬。

那大仙转祥云，径落五庄观坐下，叫徒弟拿绳来。众小仙一一伺候。你看他从袖子里，却像撮傀儡一般，把唐僧拿出，缚在正殿檐柱上；又拿出他三个，每一根柱上绑了一个；将马也拿出拴在庭下，与他些草料；行李抛在廊下。又道：“徒弟，这和尚是出家人，不可用刀枪，不可加钺，且与我取出皮鞭来，打他一顿，与我人参果出气！”众仙即忙取出一条鞭，——不是甚么牛皮、羊皮、麂皮、犊皮的，原来是龙皮做的七星鞭，着水浸在那里。令一个有力量的小仙，把鞭执定道：“师父，先打那个？”大仙道：“唐三藏做大不尊，先打他。”

行者闻言，心中暗道：“我那老和尚不禁打；假若一顿鞭打坏了阿，却不是我造的业？”他忍不住开言道：“先生差了。偷果子是我，吃果子是我，推倒树也是我，怎么不先打我，打他做甚？”大仙笑道：“这泼猴倒言语膂烈[13]。这等便先打他。”小仙问：“打多少？”大仙道：“照依果数，打三十鞭。”那小仙抡鞭就打。行者恐仙家法大，睁圆眼瞅定，看他打那里。原来打腿。行者就把腰扭一扭，叫声：“变！”变作两条熟铁腿，看他怎么打。那小仙一下一下的，打了三十，天早向午了。大仙又分付道：“还该打三藏训教不严，纵放顽徒撒泼。”那仙又抡鞭来打。行者道：“先生又差了。偷果子时，我师父不知，他在殿上与你二童讲话，是我兄弟们做的勾当。纵是有教训不严之罪，我为弟子的，也当替打。再打我罢。”大仙笑道：“这泼猴，虽是狡猾奸顽，却倒也有些孝意。既这等，还打他罢。”小仙又打了三十。行者低头看看，两只腿似明镜一般，通打亮了，更不知些疼痒。此时天色将晚。大仙道：“且把鞭浸在水里，待明朝再拷打他。”小仙且收鞭去浸，各各归房。晚斋已毕，尽皆安寝不题。

那长老泪眼双垂，怨他三个徒弟道：“你等闯出祸来，却带累我在此受罪，这是怎的起？”行者道：“且休报怨，打便先打我。你又不曾吃打，倒转嗟呀怎的？”唐僧道：“虽然不曾打，却也绑得身上疼哩。”沙僧道：“师父，还有陪绑的在这里哩。”行者道：“都莫要嚷，再停会儿走路。”八戒道：“哥哥又弄虚头了。这里麻绳喷水，紧紧的绑着，还比关在殿上，被你使解锁法搠开门走哩！”行者道：“不是夸口说，那怕他三股的麻绳喷上水，——就是碗粗的棕缆，也只好当秋风！”正话处，早已万籁无声，正是天街人静。好行者，把身子小一小，脱下索来道：“师父去呀！”沙僧慌了道：“哥哥，也救我们一救！”行者道：“悄言！悄言！”他却解了三藏，放下八戒、沙僧，整束了偏衫，扣背了马匹，廊下拿了行李，一齐出了观门。又教八戒：“你去把那崖边柳树伐四棵来。”八戒道：“要他怎的？”行者道：“有用处。快快取来！”

那呆子有些夯力，走了去，一嘴一棵，就拱了四棵，一抱抱来。行者将枝梢折了，教兄弟二人复进去，将原绳照旧绑在柱上。那大圣念动咒语，咬破舌尖，将血喷在树上，叫：“变！”一根变作长老，一根变作自身，那两根变作沙僧、八戒；都变得容貌一般，相貌皆同，问他也就说话，叫名也就答应。他两个却才放开步，赶上师父。这一夜依旧马不停蹄，躲离了五庄观。

只走到天明，那长老在马上摇桩[14]打盹。行者见了，叫道：“师父不济！出家人怎的这般辛苦？我老孙千夜不眠，也不晓得困倦。且下马来，莫教走路的人看见笑你。权在山坡下藏风聚气处，歇歇再走。”

不说他师徒在路暂住。且说那大仙天明起来，吃了早斋，出在殿上，教拿鞭来：“今日却该打唐三藏了。”那小仙抡着鞭，望唐僧道：“打你哩。”那柳树也应道：“打么。”乒乓打了三十。抡过鞭来，对八戒道：“打你哩。”那柳树也应道：“打么。”及打沙僧，也应道：“教打。”及打到行者，那行者在路，偶然打个寒噤道：“不好了！”三藏问道：“怎么说？”行者道：“我将四棵柳树变作我师徒四众，我只说他昨日打了我两顿，今日想不打了，却又打我的化身，所以我真身打噤。收了法罢。”那行者慌忙念咒收法。

你看那些道童害怕，丢了皮鞭，报道：“师父呵，为头打的是大唐和尚，这一会打的都是柳树之根！”大仙闻言，呵呵冷笑，夸不尽道：“孙行者，真是一个好猴王！曾闻他大闹天宫，布地网天罗，拿他不住，果有此理。——你走了便也罢，却怎么绑些柳树在此冒名顶替？决莫饶他！赶去来！”那大仙说声赶，纵起云头，往西一望，只见那和尚挑包策马，正然走路。大仙低下云头，叫声：“孙行者！往那里走！还我人参树来！”八戒听见道：“罢了！对头又来了！”行者道：“师父，且把善字儿包起，让我们使些儿凶恶，一发结果了他，脱身去罢。”唐僧闻言，战战兢兢，未曾答应，沙僧掣宝杖，八戒举钉钯，大圣使铁棒，一齐上前，把大仙围住在空中，乱打乱筑。这场恶斗，有诗为证。诗曰：

悟空不识镇元仙，与世同君妙更玄。

三件神兵施猛烈，一根麈尾自飘然。

左遮右挡随来往，后架前迎任转旋。

夜去朝来难脱体，淹留何日到西天！

他兄弟三众各举神兵，那大仙只把蝇帚儿演架。那里有半个时辰，他将袍袖一展，依然将四僧一马并行李，一袖笼去。返云头又到观里，众仙接着，仙师坐于殿上，却又在袖儿里一个个搬出。将唐僧绑在阶下矮槐树上，八戒、沙僧各绑在两边树上，将行者捆倒。行者道：“想是调问哩。”不一时，捆绑停当，教把长头布取十匹来。行者笑道：“八戒，这先生好意思，拿出布来与我们做中袖哩！——减省些儿，做个一口中[15]罢了。”那小仙将家机布搬将出来。大仙道：“把唐三藏、猪八戒、沙和尚都使布裹了！”众仙一齐上前裹了。行者笑道：“好！好！好！夹活儿就大殓了！”须臾，缠裹已毕。又教拿出漆来。众仙即忙取了些自收自晒的生熟漆，把他三个布裹漆漆了，浑身俱裹漆，上留着头脸在外。八戒道：“先生，上头倒不打紧，只是下面还留孔儿，我们好出恭。”那大仙又教把大锅抬出来。行者笑道：“八戒，造化！抬出锅来，想是煮饭我们吃哩。”八戒道：“也罢了；让我们吃些饭儿，做个饱死的鬼也好看。”众仙果抬出一口大锅支在阶下。大仙叫架起干柴，发起烈火，教：“把清油拗[16]上一锅，烧得滚了，将孙行者下油锅扎[17]他一扎，与我人参树报仇！”

行者闻言，暗喜道：“正可老孙之意。这一向不曾洗澡，有些儿皮肤燥痒，好歹荡荡，足感盛情。”顷刻间，那油锅将滚。大圣却又留心：恐他仙法难参，油锅里难做手脚。急回头四顾，只见那台下东边是一座日规[18]台，西边是一个石狮子。行者将身一纵，滚到西边，咬破舌尖，把石狮子喷了一口，叫声：“变！”变作他本身模样，也这般捆作一团，他却出了元神，起在云端里，低头看着道士。

只见那小仙报道：“师父，油锅滚透了。”大仙教：“把孙行者抬下去！”四个仙童抬不动；八个来，也抬不动；又加四个，也抬不动。众仙道：“这猴子恋土难移，小自小，倒也结实。”却教二十个小仙，扛将起来，往锅里一掼，烹的响了一声，溅起些滚油点子，把那小道士们脸上烫了几个燎浆大泡！只听得烧火的小童喊道：“锅漏了！锅漏了！”说不了，油漏得罄尽，锅底打破。原来是一个石狮子放在里面。

大仙大怒道：“这个泼猴，着然无礼！教他当面做了手脚！你走了便罢，怎么又捣了我的灶？这泼猴枉自也拿他不住，就拿住他，也似抟砂弄汞，捉影捕风。——罢！罢！罢！饶他去罢。且将唐三藏解下，另换新锅，把他扎一扎，与人参树报报仇罢。”那小仙真个动手，拆解布漆。

行者在半空里听得明白。他想着：“师父不济：他若到了油锅里，一滚就死，二滚就焦，到三五滚，他就弄做个稀烂的和尚了！我还去救他一救。”好大圣，按落云头，上前叉手道：“莫要拆坏了布漆，我来下油锅了。”那大仙惊骂道：“你这猢狲！怎么弄手段捣了我的灶？”行者笑道：“你遇着我就该倒灶[19]，管我甚事？我才自也要领你些油汤油水之爱，但只是大小便急了，若在锅里开风[20]，恐怕污了你的熟油，不好调菜吃；如今大小便通干净了，才好下锅。不要扎我师父，还来扎我。”那大仙闻言，呵呵冷笑，走出殿来，一把扯住。毕竟不知有何话说，端的怎么脱身，且听下回分解。

[1] 打偏手：藏私、做手脚。

[2] 打骸垢：战栗、打哆嗦。

[3] 丹头：修炼金丹时引导成丹的丹饵。这里指人参果。

[4] 庶几：差不多，大概。

[5] 趁脚儿跷：顺着别人的言语、附和人言。这里作得理不让人解释。

[6] 转背摇车：重新回到摇篮里，指转世投胎。转背，回身到。摇车，摇篮。

[7] 顶缸：代人受过。

[8] 掭（tiàn）子：小炉匠们所用的一种工具，形状如同细扁的小铁棍。

[9] 噀（xùn）：含在口中喷出。

[10] 《月儿高》：元明时民间流行的歌曲。

[11] 奈：对付。

[12] ：也作搭联、搭连。一种两头有口袋的兜囊，搭在肩上前后有袋，所以叫搭联。小的随肩背带，大的用以装被褥。

[13] 膂（lǚ）烈：劣烈、刚强的意思。

[14] 摇桩：形容犯困时身体摇晃不稳，像根桩子一样。

[15] 一口中：即一口钟，指僧衣。形状如钟，上窄下宽，所以叫一口钟。“中”与“钟”同音。

[16] 拗（ǎo）：“熬”的借字。

[17] 扎：“炸”的借字。

[18] 日规：同“日晷”，以日影计时的一种仪器。

[19] 倒灶：倒霉。这里是双关语。

[20] 开风：就是大小便。

CHAPTER 25. The Zhenyuan Immortal gives chase to catch the scripture monk; Pilgrim Sun greatly disturbs Five Villages Abbey.

We were telling you about the three brothers, who went to the main hall and said to their master, “The rice is almost done. Why did you call us?” “Disciples,” said Tripitaka, “I didn’t want to ask you about the rice. They have something called the ginseng fruit in this Abbey, which looks like a newborn infant. Which one of you stole it and ate it?” “Honestly,” said Eight Rules, “I don’t know anything about it, and I haven’t seen it.” “It’s the one who is laughing! It’s the one who is laughing!” said Clear Breeze. “I was born with a laughing face!” snapped Pilgrim. “Don’t think because you have lost some kind of a fruit that you can keep me from laughing!” “Disciple, don’t get angry,” said Tripitaka. “Those of us who have left the family should not lie, nor should we enjoy stolen food. If you have in truth eaten it, you owe them an apology. Why deny it so vehemently?” When Pilgrim perceived how reasonable this advice of his master was, he said truthfully, “Master, it’s not my fault. It was Eight Rules who overheard those two Daoist lads eating some sort of ginseng fruit. He wanted to try one to see how it tasted and told me to knock down three of the fruits; each of us brothers had one. It’s true that we have eaten them. What’s to be done about that?” “He stole four of the fruits,” said Bright Moon, “and still this monk could claim that he’s not a thief!” “Amitābha Buddha!” said Eight Rules. “If you stole four of them, why did you only bring out three for us to divide among ourselves? Didn’t you skim something off the top already?” So saying, Idiot began to make a fuss again.

When the immortal lads found out the truth, they became even more abusive in their language; the Great Sage became so enraged that he ground his steel-like teeth audibly and opened wide his fiery eyes. He gripped his golden-hooped rod again and again, struggling to restrain himself and saying to himself, “These malicious youths! They certainly know how to give people a lashing with their tongues! All right, so I have to take such abuse from them. Let me offer them in return ‘a plan for eliminating posterity,’ and none of them will have any more fruit to eat!” Dear Pilgrim! He pulled off a strand of hair behind his head and blew on it with his magic breath, crying “Change!” It changed at once into a specious Pilgrim, standing by the Tang Monk, Wujing, and Wuneng to receive the scolding from the Daoist lads. His true spirit rose into the clouds, and with one leap he arrived at the ginseng garden. Whipping out his golden-hooped rod, he gave the tree a terrific blow, after which he used that mountain-moving divine strength of his to give it a mighty shove. Alas,

Leaves fell, limbs cracked, and roots became exposed;

The Daoists lost their grass of reverted cinnabar.

After the Great Sage had pushed down the tree, he tried to look for the fruits on the branches but he could not find even half a fruit. The treasure, you see, would fall when it met with gold, and both ends of his rod were wrapped in gold. Moreover, iron is also one of the five metallic elements. The blow of the rod, therefore, shook loose all the fruits from the tree, and when they fell, they became assimilated to the earth once they touched the ground, so that there was not a single fruit left on the tree. “Fine! Fine!” he said. “Now all of us can scram!” He put away his iron rod and went back to the front. With a shake of his body he retrieved his hair, but the rest of the people, like those of fleshly eyes and mortal stock, could not perceive what had taken place.

We now tell you about the two immortal lads, who ranted at the pilgrims for a long time. Clear Breeze said, “Bright Moon, these monks do take our reproach quite well. We have been upbraiding them as if they were chickens all this time, but not once have they even attempted to answer us. Could it be that they really did not steal the fruits? With the tree so tall and the leaves so dense, we could have made a mistake in our tallying, and we might have chided them unjustly. We should go and investigate further.” “You are right,” said Bright Moon, and the two of them accordingly went back to the garden. But what they saw was only a tree on the ground with broken boughs and fallen leaves, without so much as a single fruit on it. Clear Breeze was so aghast that his legs gave way and he fell to the ground; Bright Moon shook so violently that he could hardly stand up. Both of them were scared out of their wits! We have, as testimony, this poem:

Tripitaka went westward to the Long Life Mount;

Wukong cut down the grass of reverted cinnabar.

Boughs broken and leaves fallen, the divine root exposed:

Clear Breeze and Bright Moon were horrified!

The two of them lay on the ground, hardly able to speak coherently. They could only blurt out, “What shall we do? What shall we do? The magic root of our Five Villages Abbey is severed! The seed of this divine house of ours is cut off! When our master returns, what shall we tell him?” Then Bright Moon said, “Elder Brother, stop hollering! Let’s pull ourselves together and not alarm those monks. There’s no one else here; it has to be that fellow with a hairy face and a thundergod beak who used magic unseen to ruin our treasure. If we try to talk to him, he will probably deny it, and further argument may well lead to actual combat. In the event of a fight, how do you suppose the two of us could stand up to the four of them? It would be better if we deceived them now by saying that the fruits were not missing, and that since we made a mistake in our counting, we were offering them our own apology. Their rice is almost cooked. When they eat, we shall even present them with a few side dishes. When each of them is holding a bowl, you stand on the left of the door and I’ll stand on the right, and we’ll slam the door shut together. We’ll lock it and all the other doors of this Abbey too, so that they will not be able to escape. We can then wait for Master to return and let him do with them what he wills. Since the Tang Monk is an old acquaintance of Master, he might decide to forgive them, and that would be his act of kindness. Should he decide not to, however, we have at least managed to catch the thieves, for which we ourselves might be forgiven.” When he heard these words, Clear Breeze said, “You are right! You are right!”

The two of them forced themselves to look cheerful as they walked back to the main hall from the rear garden. Bowing to the Tang Monk, they said, “Master, our coarse and vulgar language just now must have offended you. Please pardon us!” “What are you saying?” asked Tripitaka. “The fruits were not missing,” said Clear Breeze, “but we couldn’t see them clearly because of the dense foliage. We went back again to have a second look and we found the original number.”

Hearing this, Eight Rules chimed in at once. “You lads, you are young and impulsive, quick to condemn before you even know the truth of the matter. You throw out your castigations at random, and you have accused us unjustly. It’s blasphemy!” Pilgrim, however, understood what was going on; though he did not say anything, he thought to himself, “It’s a lie! It’s a lie! The fruits were done with! Why do they say such things? Could it be that they have the magic of revivification?” Meanwhile, Tripitaka said to his disciples, “In that case, bring us some rice. We’ll eat and leave,”

Eight Rules went at once to fetch the rice, while Sha Monk set the table and chairs. The two lads brought out seven or eight side dishes, including pickles, pickled eggplants, radishes in wine sauce, string beans in vinegar, salted lotus roots, and blanched mustard plants for master and disciples to eat with their rice. They also brought out a pot of fine tea and two mugs, and stood on either side of the table to wait on them. As soon as the four of them had taken up their bowls, however, the lads, one on each side, took hold of the door and slammed it tightly shut. They then bolted it with a double-shackle brass lock. “You lads made a mistake,” said Eight Rules with a laugh, “or else your custom here is rather strange. Why do you shut the door before you eat?” “Indeed!” said Bright Moon. “For good or ill, we will not open the door until after we have eaten.” Then Clear Breeze lashed out at them, saying, “You bulimic and gluttonous bald thieves! You stole and ate our divine fruits, and you were thus already guilty of eating the produce of someone’s garden without permission. Now you have even knocked over our divine tree and destroyed this immortal root of our of Five Villages Abbey. And you still dare to speak to us defiantly? If you think you can reach the Western Heaven to behold the face of Buddha, you will have to ride the Wheel of Transmigration and do it in the next incarnation!” When Tripitaka heard these words, he threw down his rice bowl and sat there weighed down as if by a huge boulder on his heart. The lads then went to lock both the front gate and the second gate before returning to the main hall to revile them once more with the most abusive language. Calling them thieves again and again, the two lads assailed them until it was late, when they then left to eat. After the meal, the lads went back to their own room.

The Tang Monk began to complain at Pilgrim, saying, “You mischievous ape! Every time it’s you who cause trouble! If you stole and ate their fruits, you should have been more forbearing to their reproach. Why did you have to knock down even their tree? If you were brought into court, even if your old man were the judge, you would not be able to defend yourself when you behave like that!” “Don’t scold me, Master,” said Pilgrim. “If those lads have gone to sleep, let them sleep. We’ll leave tonight.” “Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “all the doors have been locked securely. How can we leave?” Pilgrim said with a laugh, “Never mind! Never mind! Old Monkey will find a way!” “You have a way, all right!” said Eight Rules. “All you need to do is to change into some sort of an insect, and you can fly out through a hole or a crack in the window. But what about those of us who don’t know how to change into these tiny things? We have to stay and take the blame for you.” “If he does something like that,” said the Tang Monk, “and leaves us behind, I’ll recite that Old-Time Sūtra and see whether he can take it!” When he heard this, Eight Rules did not know whether to laugh or not. “Master,” he said, “what are you saying? I have only heard the Sŭraṅgama Sūtra, the Lotus Sūtra, the Peacock Sūtra, the Guanyin Sūtra, and the Diamond Sūtra in Buddhism, but I have never heard of anything called the Old-Time Sūtra.”

“You don’t know about this, Brother,” said Pilgrim. “This fillet that I wear on my head was given to Master by the Bodhisattva Guanyin. Master deceived me into wearing it, and it took root, as it were, on my head so that it could never be removed. There is, moreover, the Tight-Fillet Spell or the Tight-Fillet Sūtra. The moment he recites that, I’ll have a terrible headache, for it’s the magic trick designed to give me a hard time. Master, don’t recite it. I won’t betray you. No matter what happens, all of us will leave together.”

As they spoke, it grew dark and the moon rose in the East. Pilgrim said, “When all is quiet and the crystal orb is bright, this is the time for us to steal away.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “stop this hocus-pocus. The doors are all locked. Where are we going to go?” “Watch my power!” said Pilgrim. He seized his golden-hooped rod and exercised the lock-opening magic; he pointed the rod at the door and all the locks fell down with a loud pop as the several doors immediately sprung open. “What talent!” said Eight Rules, laughing. “Even if a little smith were to use a lock pick, he wouldn’t be able to do this so nimbly.” Pilgrim said, “This door is nothing! Even the South Heaven Gate would immediately fly open if I pointed this at it!” They asked their master to go outside and mount the horse; Eight Rules poled the luggage and Sha Monk led the way toward the West. “Walk slowly, all of you,” said Pilgrim. “Let me go and see to it that the Daoist lads will sleep for a month.” “Disciple,” said Tripitaka, “don’t harm them, or you will be guilty of murder as well as robbery.” “I won’t harm them,” said Pilgrim.

Going inside again, he went to the door of the room where the lads were sleeping. He still had around his waist a few sleep-inducing insects, which he had won from the Devarāja Virūpākṣa when they had played a game of guess-fingers at the East Heaven Gate. Taking out two of these insects, he filliped them through a hole in the window. They headed straight for the faces of the lads who fell at once into a sleep so deep that it seemed nothing could arouse them. Then Pilgrim turned around and caught up with the Tang Monk, and all of them fled, following the main road to the West.

Throughout that whole night, the horse did not pause to rest, and they journeyed until it was almost dawn. “Monkey,” said the Tang Monk, “you have just about killed me! Because of your mouth, I’ve had to spend a sleepless night.” “Stop this complaining!” said Pilgrim. “It’s dawn now, and you may as well take some rest in the forest here by the road. After you have regained a little strength, we’ll move on.” All that elder could do was to dismount and use a pine root as his couch. As soon as he put down the luggage, Sha Monk dozed off, while Eight Rules fell asleep with a rock as his pillow. The Great Sage Sun, however, had other interests. Just look at him! Climbing the trees and leaping from branch to branch, he had a grand time playing. We shall leave them resting and make no further mention of them now.

We now tell you about the Great Immortal, who left the Tushita Palace with the lesser immortals after the lecture was over. Descending from the Green Jasper Heaven and dropping down from the auspicious clouds, they arrived before the Five Villages Abbey at the Long Life Mountain, where they found the gates wide open and the grounds neat and clean. “Well,” said the Great Immortal, “Clear Breeze and Bright Moon are not that useless after all! Ordinarily, they don’t even bestir themselves when the sun is high, but today when we are away, they are willing to rise early to open the gates and sweep the grounds.” All the lesser immortals were delighted, but when they reached the main hall, they discovered neither fire and incense nor any trace of a human person. Clear Breeze and Bright Moon were simply nowhere to be seen!

“Because of our absence, the two of them must have stolen away with our things,” said the rest of the immortals. “Nonsense!” said the Great Immortal. “How could those who seek the way of immortality dare to engage in such wickedness? They must have forgotten to close the gates last night and gone to sleep. They are probably not yet awake this morning.” When they all reached the door of the Daoist lads, they found the door tightly shut and heard heavy snoring from within. They pounded on the door and attempted to rouse them, but the lads could not be wakened by all that clamor. Finally, the immortals managed to pry open the door and pull the lads off their beds; even then they did not wake up. “Dear immortal lads!” said the Great Immortal, laughing. “Those who have attained immortality should not be so desirous of sleep, for their spirits are full. Why are they so fatigued? Could it be that someone has played a trick on them? Quickly, bring me some water!” One of the lads brought half a cup of water to the Great Immortal, who recited a spell before spitting a mouthful of water on the lads’ faces. The Sleep Demon was thus exorcised.

Both lads woke up, and as they opened their eyes and wiped their faces, they suddenly saw all the familiar faces of their teacher, Lord, Equal to Earth, and the other immortals. Clear Breeze and Bright Moon were so startled that they knelt down at once and kowtowed, saying, “Master, your old friends, the monks who came from the East, were a bunch of vicious thieves!” “Don’t be afraid!” said the Great Immortal, smiling. “Take your time and tell me about them.”

“Master,” said Clear Breeze, “Shortly after you left that day, a Tang Monk from the Land of the East did indeed arrive with three other monks and a horse. In obedience to your command, your disciples, having ascertained their origin, took two of the ginseng fruits and served them. That elder, however, had worldly eyes and a foolish mind, for he could not recognize the treasures of our immortal house. He insisted that they were newborn infants not yet three days old and absolutely refused to eat them. For this reason, each of us ate one of the fruits instead. We didn’t expect, however, that one of his three disciples, a fellow whose surname was Sun and whose given name was Wukong Pilgrim, would steal and eat four of the fruits. When we discovered the theft, we tried to reason with him, speaking rather forthrightly to that monk. But he refused to listen to us and instead used the magic of the spirit leaving the body to—oh, this is painful!” When the two lads reached this point in their discourse, they could not hold back their tears. “Did that monk strike you?” asked the rest of the immortals. “He did not hit us,” said Bright Moon, “but he struck down our ginseng tree.”

When the Great Immortal heard this, he was not angry. Instead, he said, “Don’t cry! Don’t cry! What you don’t know is that the fellow with the name of Sun is also a minor immortal of the Great Monad; he has great magic power and has caused much disturbance in Heaven. If our treasure tree is struck down, all I want to know is whether you will be able to recognize these monks if you see them again.” “Certainly,” said Clear Breeze. “In that case,” said the Great Immortal, “follow me. The rest of you disciples can prepare the instruments of punishment. When I return, they shall be whipped.”

The various immortals took this instruction, while the Great Immortal mounted the auspicious luminosity with Clear Breeze and Bright Moon to give chase to Tripitaka. In a moment they had covered a thousand miles, but when the Great Immortal looked toward the West at the tip of the cloud, he could not see the Tang Monk anywhere. When he turned around and stared eastward instead, he found that he had overtaken the pilgrims by some nine hundred miles, for that elder, even with his horse galloping nonstop all night, had managed to travel only one hundred and twenty miles. Reversing the direction of his cloud, the Great Immortal made the trip back in an instant. “Master,” said one of the lads, “that’s the Tang Monk sitting beneath a tree by the road.” “I see him,” said the Great Immortal. “You two go back and prepare the ropes. Let me capture them by myself.” Clear Breeze and Bright Moon went back to the Abbey at once.

Dropping down from the clouds, the Great Immortal changed himself into a mendicant Daoist1 with one shake of his body. “How was he dressed?” you ask.

A priestly robe patched a hundred times

And a sash in the style of Mr. Lü.2

His hands waved a yak’s-tail

And lightly tapped a fish-drum.

Straw sandals with three loops shod his feet;

A sinuous turban wrapped around his head.

With wind-filled sleeves all aflutter,

He sang of the rising moon.

He came straight to the tree and said in a loud voice to the Tang Monk, “Elder, this poor Daoist raises his hands!” Hastily returning the salutation, the elder said, “Pardon me for not paying respects to you first.” “Where did the elder come from,” asked the Great Immortal, “and why is he sitting in meditation here beside the road?” Tripitaka said, “I am a scripture seeker sent by the Great Tang of the Land of the East to the Western Heaven.” Feigning surprise, the Great Immortal said, “When you came from the East, did you pass through my humble mountain abode?” “Which precious mountain is the abode of the venerable immortal?” asked the elder. The Great Immortal said, “The Five Villages Abbey in the Long Life Mountain is where I reside.”

The moment he heard this, Pilgrim, having something very much on his mind, replied, “No! No! We came by another route up there.” Pointing a finger firmly at him, the Great Immortal said with a laugh, “Brazen ape! Who are you trying to fool? You struck down my ginseng fruit tree in my Abbey, and then you fled here in the night. You dare deny this? Why try to cover up? Don’t run away! Go quickly and bring back another tree for me!” When Pilgrim heard this, he grew angry and whipped out his iron rod; without waiting for further discussion, he struck at the head of the Great Immortal. Stepping aside to dodge the blow, the Great Immortal trod on the auspicious luminosity and rose into the air, closely followed by Pilgrim, who also mounted the clouds. The Great Immortal changed back into his true form in midair, and this was how he appeared:

He wore a cap of purple gold,

And a carefree gown trimmed with crane’s down.

He had on his feet a pair of shoes;

A silk sash was tied round his waist.

His body seemed that of a lad

His face, that of a lady fair,

But with flowing moustaches and beard.

Some crow feathers adorned his hair.

He faced Pilgrim but without a weapon,

Save a jade yak’s-tail3 which he twirled in his hand.

Above and below, Pilgrim struck wildly with his rod, only to be parried again and again by the Great Immortal wielding his jade yak’s tail. After two or three rounds of fighting, the Great Immortal displayed his magic of the cosmos in the sleeve. Standing on the tip of a cloud and facing the wind, he gently flipped open the wide sleeve of his gown and sent it toward the earth in a sweeping motion. All four of the monks and the horse were at once scooped up into the sleeve. “This is dreadful!” said Eight Rules. “We have been placed in a clothes bag!” “It isn’t a clothes bag, Idiot!” said Pilgrim. “We’ve been scooped up into his sleeve.” “In that case,” said Eight Rules, “it shouldn’t be too difficult! Let me use my rake and make a hole in his gown. When we make our escape, we can claim that he was careless and didn’t hold us securely, so that we fell out of his sleeve.” Idiot started to dig into the garment madly with his rake, but all to no avail: although the material was soft to the touch, it was harder than steel when it came into contact with the rake.

Turning around the direction of his auspicious cloud, the Great Immortal went back to the Five Villages Abbey and sat down, ordering his disciples to fetch some ropes. As the little immortals went about their business, he fished out the pilgrims one by one like puppets from his sleeve: first he brought out the Tang Monk and had him bound to one of the large pillars in the main hall. Then he took out the three disciples and had them tied to three other pillars. Finally he took out the horse and had it tied up in the courtyard; it was given some hay while the luggage was thrown into one of the corridors. “Disciples,” said the Great Immortal, “these monks are persons who have left home, and they should not be harmed by knives or spears, hatchets or battle-axes. Bring out my leather whip instead and give them a beating—as an act of vengeance for my ginseng fruit!” Some of the immortals went quickly to fetch the whip—not the sort made of cow hide, sheep hide, suede, or buffalo hide. It was, rather, a whip of seven thongs made of dragon hide. After soaking it in water for a while, one of the more robust little immortals took it up and asked, “Master, which one shall be flogged first?” The Great Immortal replied, “Tripitaka Tang is the unworthy senior member of his party. Beat him first.”

When Pilgrim heard what he said, he thought to himself, “That old monk of mine cannot stand such flogging. If he’s destroyed by the whip, wouldn’t that be my sin?” Unable to remain silent any longer, he said, “Sir, you are mistaken! It was I who stole the fruits, and it was I who ate the fruits. Moreover, I also pushed down the tree. Why don’t you flog me first? Why do you have to whip him?” “This brazen ape,” said the Great Immortal, laughing, “does know how to speak courageously! All right, let’s flog him first.” “How many lashes?” asked the little immortal. “As many as the original number of the fruits,” said the Great Immortal. “Thirty lashes.” Lifting high the whip, the little immortal was about to strike. Fearing that this weapon of an immortal’s house might be a formidable one, Pilgrim opened his eyes wide to see where he was going to be struck and found that the little immortal was about to flog his legs. With a twist of his torso, Pilgrim said, “Change!” and his two legs became hard as steel, all ready to be flogged. With measured strokes, the little immortal gave him thirty lashes before putting down the whip.

It was already almost noon when the Great Immortal said again, “We should now give Tripitaka a flogging, since he did not know how to discipline his mischievous disciples and permitted them to indulge in unruly behavior.” As the immortal took up the whip again, Pilgrim said, “You are again mistaken, sir. When the fruits were stolen, my master was conversing in this hall with the two lads; he had no knowledge whatever of what we brothers had perpetrated. Though he might be guilty of not being strict enough in his discipline of us, those of us who are his disciples should receive the punishment for him. Flog me again.” “This lawless ape!” said the Great Immortal. “Though he is sly and devious, he does possess some filial sentiments! In that case, let’s flog him again.” The little immortal again gave him thirty lashes. When Pilgrim lowered his head to take a look, he saw that his two legs had been beaten until they were shining like mirrors, though he had no sensation whatever, either of pain or of itching. By this time it was getting late, and the Great Immortal said, “Soak the whip in water. Wait until tomorrow, and then we shall punish them again.” The little immortals retrieved the whip and placed it in water, after which everyone retired to his own chamber. When they had finished their evening meal, all went away to sleep, and we shall say no more of them now.

With tears flowing from his eyes, the elder began to complain bitterly to his three disciples, saying, “You all have caused this trouble, but I have to suffer with you in this place. What are you going to do about it?” “Stop this complaining,” said Pilgrim. “They flogged me first, and you haven’t even had a taste of it yet. Why do you have to grumble like that?” “Though I have not been flogged,” said the Tang Monk, “this rope is causing me to ache all over.” “Master,” said Sha Monk, “there are others here who are your companions in bondage!” “Stop this racket, all of you!” said Pilgrim. “In a little while, we’ll all be on our way again.”

“Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “you are fibbing again. We are tightly bound now in hemp ropes sprayed with water. They are not like the locks on those doors that you opened so easily with your magic!”

“This is no exaggeration,” said Pilgrim, “but I’m not afraid of a three-ply hemp rope sprayed with water. Even if it were a coir cord as thick as a small bowl, I would consider it as insubstantial as the autumn wind!” Hardly had he finished speaking when it became completely quiet everywhere. Dear Pilgrim! He contracted his body and at once freed himself from the ropes, saying, “Let’s go, Master!”

“Elder Brother,” said a startled Sha Monk, “save us, too!” “Speak softly! Speak softly!” said Pilgrim. He untied Tripitaka, Sha Monk, and Eight Rules; they put on their clothes, saddled the horse, and picked up the luggage from the corridor. As they walked out of the Abbey gate, Pilgrim said to Eight Rules, “Go to the edge of the cliff there and bring back four willow trees.” “What do you want them for?” asked Eight Rules. “I have use for them. Bring them quickly.”

Idiot did possess some sort of brutish strength. He did as he was told, and with one shove of his snout he felled one of the willow trees. Knocking down three more, he gathered them up into a bundle and hauled them back. Pilgrim stripped the branches off the trunks, and the two of them carried the trunks inside, where they fastened them to the pillars with the ropes with which they had earlier been tied up themselves. Then the Great Sage recited a spell; biting the tip of his own tongue, he spat some blood on the trees and cried, “Change!” One of them changed into the elder, another changed into a figure like himself, and the two other trees changed into Sha Monk and Eight Rules. They all seemed to look exactly alike; when questioned, they knew how to make replies; when their names were called, they knew how to answer. Only then did the two of them run back out and catch up with their master. As before, the horse did not pause to rest for that whole night as they fled the Five Villages Abbey. When morning arrived, however, the elder was nodding on the horse, hardly able to remain in the saddle. When Pilgrim saw him like that, he called out, “Master, you are terribly soft! How is it that a person who has left home like yourself has so little endurance? If I, old Monkey, went without sleep even for a thousand nights, I still would not feel fatigue. Well, you had better get off the horse, so that travelers won’t see your condition and laugh at you. Let’s find a temporary shelter beneath the mountain slope and rest awhile before we move on again.”

We shall not tell you any more now about master and disciples resting by the way; we shall tell you instead of the Great Immortal, who rose at the crack of dawn and went out at once to the main hall after taking his morning meal. He said, “Bring out the whip. It’s Tripitaka’s turn today to be flogged.” The little immortal wielded the whip and said to the Tang Monk, “I’m going to beat you.” “Go ahead,” said the willow tree, and he was given thirty lashes. Changing the direction of his whip, the little immortal said to Eight Rules, “I’m going to flog you.” “Go ahead,” said the other willow tree, and the one that was changed into the form of Sha Monk gave the same reply when it was his turn. By the time they reached Pilgrim, the real Pilgrim, resting by the wayside, was suddenly sent into a violent shudder. “Something’s wrong!” he exclaimed. “What do you mean?” asked Tripitaka. Pilgrim said, “I transformed four willow trees into the four of us, thinking that since they flogged me twice yesterday, they would not beat me again today. But they are giving my transformed body a beating, and that’s why my true body is shivering. I had better stop the magic.” Hastily, Pilgrim recited a spell to suspend the magic.

Look at those frightened Daoist lads! The one who was doing the flogging threw away the whip and ran to report, saying, “Master, at first I was beating the Great Tang Monk, but now I am only striking at some willow roots!” When the Great Immortal heard these words, he laughed bitterly, saying, “Pilgrim Sun! Truly a marvelous Monkey King! It was rumored that when he caused great disturbance in Heaven, even the cosmic nets that the gods set up could not hold him. I suppose there must be some truth to that! So, you escaped! But why did you have to tie up these willow trees here to impersonate you and your companions? I’m not going to spare you! I’ll pursue you!” Saying this, the Great Immortal at once rose into the clouds; he peered toward the West and saw the monks fleeing, poling the load of luggage and riding the horse. The Great Immortal dropped down from the clouds, crying, “Pilgrim Sun! Where are you running to? Give me back my ginseng tree!” Hearing this, Eight Rules said, “We’re finished! Our foe is here again!” “Master,” said Pilgrim, “let’s pack up that little word ‘Kindness’ for the moment. Allow us to indulge in a little violence and finish him off so that we can make our escape.” When the Tang Monk heard these words, he trembled all over, hardly able to reply. Without even waiting for his answer, however, Sha Monk lifted his precious staff, Eight Rules brought out his muck-rake, and the Great Sage wielded his iron rod. They all rushed forward to surround the Great Immortal in midair and began to strike at him furiously. For this vicious battle, we have the following poem as testimony:

Wukong knew not that Zhenyuan Immortal—

Lord, Equal to Earth—was wondrous and strange.

Though three weapons divine showed forth their might,

One yak’s-tail flew up with natural ease

To parry the thrusts on the left and right,

To block the blows struck at the front and back.

Night passed, day came, still they could not escape!

How long would it take them to reach the West?

The three brothers all raised their divine weapons and attacked the immortal together, but the Great Immortal had only the fly brush with which to meet his adversaries. The battle, however, had not lasted for half an hour when the Great Immortal spread open his sleeve and with one scoop, recaptured the four monks, the horse, and their luggage. Reversing the direction of his cloud, he went back to his Abbey, where he was greeted by the other immortals. The Master Immortal took a seat in the main hall and again took out the pilgrims one by one from his sleeve. The Tang Monk was bound to a short locust tree in the courtyard, while Sha Monk and Eight Rules were fastened to two other trees, one on each side. Pilgrim, however, was tightly bound but left on the ground. “I suppose,” thought Pilgrim to himself, “they are going to interrogate me.” After the immortals had finished tying up the captives, they were told to bring out ten large bales of cloth. “Eight Rules,” said Pilgrim with a laugh, “this gentleman must have the good intention of making us some clothes! He might as well be more economical and just cut us a few monks’ bells!”4 After the little immortals had brought out the homespun cloth, the Great Immortal said, “Wrap up Tripitaka Tang, Zhu Eight Rules, and Sha Monk entirely in the cloth.” The little immortals obeyed and wrapped the three of them completely. “Fine! Fine! Fine!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “We are prepared to be buried alive!” After they were wrapped, the Daoists brought out some lacquer that they had made themselves, and the Great Immortal gave the order that the wrappings of the pilgrims be completely coated with the varnish. Only their faces were left uncovered. “Sir,” said Eight Rules, “I’m all right on top, but leave me a hole down below so that I can unburden myself!”

The Great Immortal next gave the order that a huge frying pan be brought out. “Eight Rules, we are lucky!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “If they are hauling out a pan, they must want to cook some rice for us to eat.” “That’s all right with me,” said Eight Rules. “If they let us eat some rice, we’ll be well-fed ghosts even if we die!” The various immortals duly brought out a huge pan, which they set up before the steps of the main hall. After giving the order that a big fire be built with plenty of dry firewood, the Great Immortal said, “Fill the pan with clear oil. When it boils, dump Pilgrim Sun into the pan and fry him! That’ll be his payment for my ginseng tree!”

When Pilgrim heard this, he was secretly pleased, saying to himself, “This is exactly what I want! I haven’t had a bath for some time and my skin is so dry that it’s getting itchy. For good or ill, I’ll enjoy a little scorching and be most grateful for it.” In a moment, the oil was about to boil. The Great Sage, however, was quite cautious; fearing that this might be some form of formidable divine magic that would be difficult for him to handle once he was in the pan, he looked around quickly. In the east he saw a little terrace with a sundial on top, but to the west he discovered a stone lion. With a bound, Pilgrim rolled himself toward the west; biting the tip of his tongue, he spat a mouthful of blood on the stone lion, crying, “Change!” It changed into a figure just like himself, all tied up in a bundle. His true spirit rose into the clouds, from where he lowered his head to stare at the Daoists.

Just then, one of the little immortals gave this report, “Master, the oil is sizzling in the pan.” “Pick up Pilgrim Sun and throw him in!” said the Great Immortal. Four of the divine lads went to carry him, but they could not lift him up; eight more joined them, but they had no success either. They added four more, and still they could not even budge him. “This monkey loves the earth so much that he can’t be moved!” said one of the immortals. “Though he may be rather small, he’s quite tough!” Finally, twenty little immortals managed to lift him up and hurl him into the pan; there was a loud splash, big drops of boiling oil flew out in every direction, and the faces of those little Daoists were covered with blisters. Then they heard the lad who was tending the fire crying, “The pan’s leaking! The pan’s leaking!” Hardly had he uttered these words when all the oil was gone. What they saw in the pan with its bottom punctured was a stone lion.

Enraged, the Great Immortal said, “That wretched ape! He’s wicked indeed! And I’ve allowed him to show off right in front of my nose! So, he wanted to escape, but why did he have to ruin my pan? I suppose it’s exceedingly difficult to catch the wretched ape, and even if one does catch him, trying to hold him is like trying to grasp sand or handle mercury, to catch a shadow or seize the wind! All right! All right! Let him go. Untie Tripitaka Tang and bring out a new pan. We’ll fry him instead in order to avenge my ginseng tree.” The various little immortals accordingly went to untie the lacquer cloth, but Pilgrim, who heard this clearly in the air, thought to himself, “Master is utterly helpless! If he arrives in the pan, the first boiling bubble will kill him and the second will burn him up; by the time the oil sizzles three or four times, he’ll be a messy monk! I had better go and save him!” Dear Great Sage! He lowered the direction of his cloud and went back to the main hall. With his hands at his waist, he said, “Don’t untie the lacquer wrapping to fry my master. Let me go into the pan of boiling oil instead.”

“You wretched ape!” cried a somewhat startled Great Immortal. “How dare you display such tricks to wreck my stove?”5 “If you have the misfortune of meeting me,” said Pilgrim, laughing, “your stove deserves to be overturned! Why blame me? Just now, I was about to receive your kind hospitality in the form of oily soup, but I suddenly had the urge to relieve myself. If I opened up right in the pan, I was afraid that I might spoil your hot oil so that it could not be used for cooking. Now that I’m completely relieved, I feel quite good about going into the pan. Don’t fry my master; fry me instead.” When the Great Immortal heard these words, he laughed menacingly and ran out of the hall to catch hold of Pilgrim. We do not know what sort of things he has to say to him, or whether Pilgrim manages to escape again. Let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.