Chapter 56: The Spirit Goes Wild and Slays the Bandits; The Way Goes Astray and Lets the Mind-Monkey Go Free

A verse says:

When the mind-tower holds nothing, that is called clarity;
in utter stillness, not a single thought is born.
Bind the monkey and horse fast; do not let them roam.
Be careful with your spirit; let no harsh shape rise.
Cut off the six thieves, awaken to the three vehicles;
when all ten thousand ties are laid aside, truth becomes plain.
Let evil lust vanish forever and pass beyond the real realm,
and sit to enjoy the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss.

Now to return: Tripitaka clamped his teeth on iron and steel and kept his body from breaking, and thanks to Sun Wukong and the others the scorpion spirit was beaten to death and the Pipa Cave was rescued.

The pilgrims set out again without a word. It was already the season of high summer. The scene was:

A hot wind brought the scent of wild orchids; after rain, fresh bamboo grew cool.
Mugwort covered the mountain, but no one came to gather it.
Calamus bloomed thick in the ravine, each blossom vying for fragrance.
Pomegranate flowers brightened the banks, and the bees rejoiced to wander.
Willow shade deepened by the stream, and yellow birds cried out in ecstasy.
On the long road, who could wrap zongzi in time?
Dragon boats should have been rowed down to the Miluo River.

The pilgrims admired the Duanwu festival and passed through the season without noticing, when suddenly they came upon another high mountain blocking the road. Tripitaka pulled in his horse and turned to say, "Wukong, there is a mountain ahead. I fear some monster may rise again, so you must be careful."

Wukong and the others said, "Master, rest easy. We have given our hearts to the Buddha. What demon do we have to fear?"

Tripitaka was delighted by this and urged his fine horse on with the whip. In an instant they climbed the mountain slope and looked up. It truly was:

The pines and cypresses at the summit touched the clouds in blue-green ranks;
on the stone cliffs briars and thorns clung to wild vines.
Ten thousand zhang of height rose steep and towering; a thousand layers of sheer stone dropped into deep ravines.
Green moss and blue lichen spread over the shaded rocks; ancient cypresses and tall locusts made a vast forest.
In the deep woods one could hear hidden birds; their fine notes were truly worth listening to.
In the ravines water ran down like spilled jade, and by the road flowers fell like heaps of gold.
The mountain was fierce and not fit for travel, with not even half a flat step in ten.
Foxes and deer appeared in pairs; white deer and black monkeys came out in twos.
Suddenly a tiger's roar shook the heart, and crane cries rang through the sky.
Yellow plums and red apricots were fit to eat, and the wild grasses and flowers had names no one knew.

The four travelers went into the mountain and walked at a leisurely pace for a long while. After they passed over the crest and came down the western slope, they reached a stretch of level land. Zhu Bajie put on airs and told Sha Wujing to carry the luggage, while he himself held up the rake in both hands and went ahead to drive the horse.

The horse, however, was not afraid of him at all. No matter how loudly the fool clicked and clucked, it still only walked slowly and would not hurry.

Wukong said, "Brother, why are you driving it? Let it walk slowly."

Bajie said, "It is getting late, and we have already climbed mountains all day. I am hungry, and everyone should move a little faster so we can find a house and beg a vegetarian meal."

Wukong laughed. "Since that is the case, let me make it move faster."

He shook the Golden-Hooped Rod and gave a shout. At once the horse slipped free of the bridle and shot forward like an arrow. Why did the horse not fear Bajie but only fear Wukong? Five hundred years earlier Wukong had served as Keeper of the Heavenly Horses in the Great Brahma Heaven's Imperial Stables. He was called Bimawen, and horses still feared him to this day.

Tripitaka could not hold the reins and could only clutch the saddle and let the horse run freely. They rode for another twenty li or so before they found level ground at last, when suddenly they heard a crash of gongs. On both sides of the road thirty or more men sprang out, each with spears, blades, clubs, and staves, and barred the road.

"Monk, where are you going?"

Tripitaka was so frightened that he nearly lost his seat. He fell from the horse and crouched in the grass by the roadside, crying, "Great kings, spare my life! Great kings, spare my life!"

The two leading brutes said, "We do not want your life. Leave behind your traveling money."

Only then did Tripitaka understand that they were highwaymen. He raised his head and looked carefully.

One had blue face and fangs, and mocked even the years themselves;
the other had bulging eyes and round cheeks, more fearsome than the god of death.
Red hair bristled by their temples like flames in the wind;
yellow beards jutted from their chins like needles stuck in rows.
On their heads were tiger-skin caps; around their waists were colorful skirts of fox fur.
One held a wolf-tooth club; the other carried a knotted rattan staff.
Truly they were no less than mountain tigers,
and as fierce as dragons rising from the water.

Seeing how savage they looked, Tripitaka had no choice but to stand and join his palms.

"Great kings, I am a monk from Great Tang sent by the Tang emperor to seek scriptures in the Western Heaven. I have left Chang'an years ago, and by now even the little traveling money I had is gone. Monks live by begging. Where could I have wealth? I beg Your Honors to be merciful and let me pass."

The two bandit chiefs and their men came forward.

"We have made our tiger-hearted stand here by the road for the very purpose of taking money. What mercy do you mean? If you truly have no money, then strip off your clothes, leave the white horse, and we will let you go."

Tripitaka said, "Amitabha. This robe of mine was made from scraps gathered from one household, thread from another, and cloth from many little gifts. If you strip it away, would you not be killing me? This world lets one be a hero for a day, but the next life makes one a beast."

The bandits were furious. They drew big clubs and came straight at him.

Tripitaka never in his life knew how to lie. In such a crisis, he had no choice but to make up a story.

"Great kings, wait a moment. I have a little disciple behind me who is on his way. He has a few taels of silver on him. I will have him bring it."

The bandit chief said, "This monk does not know how to take a loss. Bind him up."

The men all moved at once, bound him with a rope, and hung him high from a tree.

Now to return: the three troublemakers came hurrying after. Bajie laughed heartily. "Master must have gone ahead fast. We do not know where he is waiting for us."

Then he looked up and saw the elder hanging from the tree.

He said, "Look at Master. So he got there first and is playing on the vine, swinging from the tree like a child."

Wukong said, "You fool, do not babble. Master is hanging there. You two take your time and wait here. I will go look."

The Great Sage quickly climbed the slope and took a closer look. Seeing that they were indeed highway robbers, he was overjoyed.

"Good fortune, good fortune. Business has come to the door."

He turned at once, shook himself, and changed into a clean little monk. He wore a black robe and looked no more than sixteen years old. On his shoulder he carried a blue cloth bundle.

He strode forward and called, "Master, what is going on here? What sort of bad men are these?"

Tripitaka said, "Disciple, why are you only asking questions? Hurry and save me."

Wukong asked, "What are they doing?"

Tripitaka said, "These bandits stopped me and asked for traveling money. Because I had nothing on me, they tied me up here and are waiting for you. If not, they would have taken even my horse."

Wukong laughed. "Master, you are no good at this. Even monks of the world are not all as soft as you. The Tang emperor sent you west to see Buddha. Who told you to give away the dragon horse?"

Tripitaka said, "With me hanging here and being beaten to ask for money, what else could I say?"

Wukong said, "How did you speak to them?"

Tripitaka said, "They beat me hard, so there was no choice. I had to confess you."

Wukong said, "Master, you were most inconsiderate. Why would you confess me?"

Tripitaka said, "I said you had some traveling money on you, and only used that as an emergency tale to save my life."

Wukong said, "Good, good. You elevated me just as I deserved. If only you would mention me seven or eighty times a month, I would have more business than ever."

The bandits, seeing Wukong talking with Tripitaka, spread out and surrounded them.

"Little monk, your master says you have traveling money in your bundle. Hurry and hand it over if you want your lives spared. If you say even half a word of no, we will end your miserable days."

Wukong set down the bundle and said, "Gentlemen, do not shout. There is some money in this bundle, but not much - only about twenty ingots of horse gold, thirty pieces of white silver, and some scattered small coin that I have not even counted. If you want it, take the bundle too. Only do not beat my master. As the old books say, 'Virtue is the root; wealth is only the branch.' This is a matter of the branch, not the root.

We monks have other ways of earning our keep. If we meet a generous householder who feeds monks, we may even get travel money and clothes. What use is much wealth to us? Only let my master go, and I will hand over everything."

The bandits were overjoyed.

"The old monk is stingy, but this little monk is generous."

They shouted, "Let him down."

Tripitaka got his life back. He sprang onto the horse and, without waiting for Wukong, whipped the mount back toward the old road.

Wukong quickly shouted, "Wrong road!"

He picked up the bundle and was just about to chase after him when the bandits blocked his way.

"Where do you think you are going? Leave the money behind if you do not want pain."

Wukong laughed. "Then let us split the money three ways."

The bandit chief said, "This little monk is too clever. He is trying to hide some from his master. Very well, bring it out and let us see. If there is a lot, we will even give you some to buy fruit behind his back."

Wukong said, "Brother, that is not what I mean. Why should I have any traveling money? You two are the ones robbing others of gold and silver. You ought to share some with me."

The bandits flew into a rage.

"You monk do not know whether you are alive or dead. We were going to let you off, but now you demand money from us instead. Do not run."

They lifted a rattan club and struck Wukong seven or eight times on the bald head.

Wukong only smiled and acted as if he did not feel it.

"Brother, if you are going to hit, hit until next spring and keep going all the way to the time for harvesting."

The bandit chief was shocked. "This monk has a very hard head!"

Wukong laughed. "I would not dare, I would not dare. You flatter me too much."

The men could not make sense of him. Two or three of them came forward and struck him in a jumble.

Wukong said, "Gentlemen, calm down. Let me take out the money."

The Great Sage reached into his ear and drew out a tiny embroidered needle.

"My fellow monks, I truly did not bring any traveling money. I will give you only this needle."

The bandits said, "What bad luck. We let go a rich monk and caught a poor bald rat instead. What do we want with a needle?"

When Wukong heard that they did not want it, he held it in his fingers and shook it once. It grew into a rod as thick as a bowl.

The bandits were frightened.

"This monk is small, but he can work spells."

Wukong planted the rod in the ground.

"My lords, if you can lift it, then it is yours."

Two bandits rushed up and tried to seize it. Alas, it was like a dragonfly shaking a stone pillar. They could not move it even a hair.

The rod was truly the Ruyi Jingu Bang, weighing 13,500 jin on the heavenly scales. How could those bandits know that?

The Great Sage stepped forward, lifted it easily, and used a rolling stance to point at the bandits.

"You are all badly fated. You have run into Old Sun."

The bandits came at him again, and he struck one of them five or six times.

Wukong laughed. "You are tired already. Let me strike once."

He shook out the rod, and it grew as thick as a well curb and seven or eight zhang long. He brought it down with a crash and knocked one man flat on the ground. His lips and teeth were smashed in, and he made no more sound.

The other bandit shouted, "You bald thief, how rude! You had no traveling money, and now you have killed one of our men."

Wukong laughed. "Hold on, hold on. Let me take them one by one, and I will cut the root off all at once."

He brought the rod down again and killed the second chief.

The rest of the robbers were so frightened that they dropped spears and clubs and fled in all directions.

Tripitaka, riding the horse, had run east by mistake. Bajie and Brother Sha stopped him.

"Master, where are you going? You have taken the wrong road."

Tripitaka reined in the horse and said, "Disciples, hurry and tell your senior brother to spare them. Do not let him kill those bandits."

Bajie said, "Master, stay right here. I will go."

The fool ran all the way to the front and shouted, "Brother, Master says do not kill people."

Wukong said, "Brother, who said I killed anyone?"

Bajie asked, "Then where did the bandits go?"

Wukong said, "The rest have scattered. Only the two chiefs are sleeping here."

Bajie laughed. "Those poor fellows, they must have spent the night awake and are tired. They did not go sleep anywhere else, only here."

He came up beside them and looked.

"Why, they are just like me. They are sleeping with their mouths open and some sticky spit running out."

Wukong said, "Old Sun's rod beat tofu out of them."

Bajie said, "Can a person's head have tofu in it?"

Wukong said, "I beat out their brains."

Bajie heard that the brains had been beaten out and hurried back to Tripitaka.

"They are broken up," he said.

Tripitaka cried, "Goodness gracious! Which road did they take?"

Bajie said, "They have been beaten until their legs are straight. Where could they go?"

Tripitaka asked, "Why do you say they are broken up?"

Bajie said, "They are dead. If that is not broken up, then what is?"

Tripitaka asked, "What do they look like?"

Bajie said, "Each has a big hole in his head."

Tripitaka ordered, "Open the bundle, take out a few copper coins, and go quickly buy two plasters to stick on them."

Bajie laughed. "Master, you are not serious. Plasters are only good for living people's sores. How could you stick them on dead men's holes?"

Tripitaka said, "Then they are truly dead?"

He became angry and would not stop scolding, calling them monkey-head and monkey-brain and all the rest.

He turned the horse around and went back with Sha Wujing and Bajie to where the dead men lay. Sure enough, they were lying under the slope in blood.

Tripitaka could not bear the sight.

"Bajie, quick, use your rake to dig a pit and bury them. I will recite a burial sutra for them."

Bajie said, "Master is always putting people to work. Wukong killed them, so he ought to bury them too. Why make Old Pig do labor?"

Wukong had been made angry by his master's scolding and shouted, "You lazy lout! Hurry up and bury them. If you are late, I will strike you with one more blow."

The fool was frightened and dug out three feet into the slope, but under it there were only rocks and roots, so the rake kept catching. He dropped the rake and began to root with his snout instead. When he reached soft soil, he shoved with his mouth, two feet at a time.

In two mouths and five feet of digging he buried the two corpses and piled earth over them into one mound.

Tripitaka called, "Wukong, bring incense and candles so I may pray and recite the sutra."

Wukong pursed his lips. "How thoughtless. In the middle of this mountain, with no village in front and no inn behind, where are we to find incense and candles? Even if we had money, there would be nowhere to buy them."

Tripitaka said bitterly, "You monkey, step aside. Let me scoop up some earth and burn it as incense."

So Tripitaka dismounted beside the wild grave and, as the holy monk who did not forget even the deserted mound, prayed over the burial site:

I bow and make my plea, good heroes, and tell you why.
I am a disciple from Great Tang in the Eastern Land,
sent by imperial command from the great Emperor Taizong
to seek the scriptures in the Western Heaven.
Just now, at this place, we met so many of you,
though I know not what prefecture, what county, or what district
has gathered you all here in this mountain to form a band.
I spoke to you with good words and begged you earnestly,
but you would not listen and instead grew angry.
Then you were hurt beneath the staff of the Pilgrim.
I think with pity on your corpses exposed to the air,
and so I bury you now in a rough earth mound.
I cut green bamboo for incense and candles, though they have no brightness, only my devotion;
I take hard stones for alms-dishes, though they have no flavor, only my sincerity.
When you bring your lawsuit before the halls of hell, trace the root and seek the cause:
his surname is Sun, my surname is Chen, and we are men of different houses.
If there is grievance, let it find the one who caused it.
Do not complain against the monk who came west to seek the scriptures.

Bajie laughed. "Master has washed his hands clean. When they were being beaten, we two were still there too."

Tripitaka truly scooped up earth and prayed again.

"If they bring suit, let them complain only against Wukong. It has nothing to do with Bajie or Brother Sha."

The Great Sage could not help laughing.

"Master, you truly are heartless. For your sake I have spent who knows how much labor on the scripture road, and now after I have killed these bandits, you tell them to complain against Old Sun alone. It is true I did the striking, but I only did it for you. If you were not going west for scriptures, I would not be your disciple. How would I ever have come here to kill people? Very well, let me pray over them too."

He gripped the iron staff and struck the mound three times.

"You evil thieves, listen to me: I took seven or eight blows from you before, and another seven or eight after, and it did not hurt or itch at all. Then you angered my spirit and by mistake I killed you. Go ahead and sue me wherever you like. Old Sun is not afraid. The Jade Emperor knows me; the Heavenly Kings follow me. The Twenty-Eight Lodestars fear me; the Nine Luminaries fear me. City gods and district gods kneel to me; the Eastern Peak Great Emperor fears me. The Ten Kings of Hell once served me as underlings, and the Five-Route Fierce Gods once played under me as children. Not just the Three Realms and Five Offices - all the rulers in the ten directions are familiar faces to me. Go ahead and complain wherever you will."

Tripitaka heard him speak such fierce and shameful words and grew alarmed.

"Disciples, I told you to pray so that you might cultivate kindness toward life. Why have you taken it so seriously?"

Wukong said, "Master, this is not a game. Let us hurry and look for lodging."

The elder had no choice but to mount in anger.

Sun the Great Sage now felt discontent toward him, and Bajie and Sha Wujing also felt jealous resentment. The master and disciples all wore smiles in front and opposition behind as they traveled west on the main road.

Soon they saw a farmstead below the north side of the road. Tripitaka pointed with his whip and said, "Let us go there and ask for lodging."

Bajie said, "Exactly."

So they went to the side of the farm and dismounted. It was truly a good place to stay.

Wildflowers filled the path; mixed trees shaded the gate.
The far bank carried running mountain water, and level fields were planted with wheat and mallows.
Reed banks were wet with dew, where little gulls slept;
willow branches were touched by wind, where tired birds perched.
Blue cypress and green pine competed in color;
red weeds and reeds answered one another in fragrance.
Village dogs barked, evening chickens called, and shepherd boys came home after feeding the cattle and sheep.
Kitchen smoke gathered like mist, and yellow grain was nearly cooked:
it was just the hour when a mountain household turns toward evening.

Tripitaka stepped forward and soon saw an old man come out from the gate of the village house. They greeted each other and exchanged questions.

The old man asked, "Where have the monks come from?"

Tripitaka said, "This poor monk is an envoy from Great Tang in the Eastern Land, traveling west to seek the scriptures. We have passed by your honorable place, and as it is getting late, I have come to your house to ask for one night's lodging."

The old man laughed. "From your place to mine is a very long road. How did you ever cross water and climb mountains to get here alone?"

Tripitaka said, "This poor monk has three disciples traveling with me."

The old man asked, "Where are these fine disciples?"

Tripitaka pointed. "The ones standing by the road over there."

The old man looked up and saw how ugly they were. He quickly turned and went back inside.

Tripitaka pulled him back. "Old benefactor, please have mercy and let us stay one night."

The old man trembled, speechless, and shook his head and hands.

"Not, not, not - they do not look like people! They are, are, are several demons."

Tripitaka said with a smile, "Do not be afraid, benefactor. My disciples were born looking like this. They are not demons."

The old man said, "Heavens! One looks like a yaksha, one like a horse-faced god, and one like a thunder spirit."

Wukong heard this and shouted loudly, "The thunder spirit is my grandson, the yaksha is my great-grandson, and the horse-faced one is my great-great-grandson!"

The old man was so frightened that his soul nearly flew apart, and he rushed to shut the door.

Tripitaka held him up and led him into the thatched hall, saying with a smile, "Old benefactor, do not fear them. They are just rough in speech and do not know how to talk properly."

While he was calming the man, a granny came out from the back with a child of five or six years old.

"Grandfather," she said, "why are you so frightened?"

Only then did the old man call out, "Mother, bring tea."

The granny really did leave the child and go inside to bring out two cups of tea. After the tea, Tripitaka came down and bowed to her.

"This poor monk is an envoy from Great Tang going west to seek scriptures. I have come to your honored house asking for lodging. It is only that my three disciples are ugly and frightened the old gentleman."

The granny said, "If you see ugly faces and get this frightened, what would you do if you saw tigers or jackals?"

The old man said, "Mother, the faces are ugly enough, but the words are worse. I said they looked like yakshas, horse-faced gods, and thunder spirits, and they shouted that the thunder spirit was their grandson, the yaksha their great-grandson, and the horse-faced one their great-great-grandson. Hearing that, I was frightened indeed."

Tripitaka said, "No, no. The one like a thunder spirit is my eldest disciple, Sun Wukong. The one like a horse face is my second disciple, Zhu Wuneng. The one like a yaksha is my third disciple, Sha Wujing. Though they are ugly, they have entered the Buddhist order and taken refuge in the good fruit. They are not any kind of evil ghost or poisonous monster. Why should you fear them?"

When the old couple heard their names and the words about Buddhist monks, their fear settled down and they said, "Please, please, come in."

Tripitaka went outside and called the disciples in, instructing them, "The old gentleman did not care for your looks just now. When you go in, do not be rude. Show some respect."

Bajie said, "I am handsome and civilized, unlike senior brother, who is so unruly."

Wukong laughed. "Because you have a long mouth and big ears and an ugly face, you are hardly a handsome man either."

Sha Wujing said, "Stop arguing. This is no place for showing off. Come in, come in."

So they brought the luggage and horses into the hall, gave a proper greeting, and sat down.

The granny was very kind. She took the child inside and told the household to cook, and they set out a vegetarian meal for the pilgrims, who ate it all.

As evening deepened they lit the lamps and sat talking in the thatched hall.

Tripitaka asked, "Old benefactor, what is your surname?"

The old man said, "My surname is Yang."

Tripitaka asked, "How old are you?"

"Seventy-four," said the old man.

Tripitaka asked, "How many sons do you have?"

The old man said, "Only one. The child the granny was carrying just now was my grandson."

Tripitaka asked to see the son and bow to him.

The old man said, "That wretch is not fit to be bowed to. My luck is poor, and I cannot keep him in order. He is not at home right now."

Tripitaka asked, "What does he do for a living?"

The old man sighed. "Alas, alas! If he were willing to do an honest living, that would be my great fortune. That fellow only breeds evil thoughts and does not follow any proper trade. He likes nothing but road robbery, housebreaking, murder, and arson. The people he keeps company with are all packs of foxes and dogs. He went out five days ago and has not yet returned."

Tripitaka heard this and dared not breathe.

He thought to himself, "Perhaps Wukong killed the very man."

The elder was so uneasy that he leaned forward and sighed, "Alas! Alas! With such worthy parents, why must such a wicked son be born?"

Wukong stepped forward and said, "Old sir, if he is the kind of son who is not filial, not worthy, and given to theft, murder, and vice, then he only drags down his parents. What use is he? Let me find him and kill him for you."

The old man said, "I would be glad to be rid of him, but I have no one else. Fool though he is, I must still keep him so that I may bury him when the time comes."

Sha Wujing and Bajie both laughed.

"Brother, leave the trouble alone. We are not magistrates. If his family does not want it, what is it to us? Better ask the benefactor to give us a bundle of straw so we can make beds in the other room and sleep until dawn."

The old man immediately got up and sent Sha Wujing to the back garden for two armfuls of straw. He told them to sleep in the round straw hut in the garden. Wukong led the horse, Bajie carried the luggage, and the elder went with them into the hut to rest. That is enough of that for now.

Now to return: among that band of thieves there really was Yang's son. After the two bandit chiefs were killed earlier by Wukong in front of the mountain, the others scattered in all directions. Around the fourth watch they regrouped and came pounding at the door.

The old man heard the gate shake and woke up. "Mother, those fellows have come again."

The granny said, "Since they are here, go open the door and let them come home."

So the old man opened the door and saw that the whole band was shouting, "Hungry, hungry!"

Yang's son hurried inside and called his wife to light the fire and cook the rice. But there was no firewood in the kitchen, so he went to the back garden for wood. While he was there, he asked his wife, "Where did that white horse in the back garden come from?"

She said, "It belongs to the monks from Great Tang who came here last night and asked for lodging. The old man and the granny treated them to a vegetarian meal and let them sleep in the straw hut in the garden."

When the fellow heard this, he came out of the thatched hall clapping his hands and laughing.

"Brothers, good fortune, good fortune. Our enemies are in my house."

The thieves asked, "Which enemies?"

He said, "The monks who killed our boss came here to stay. They are sleeping in the straw hut right now."

The bandits said, "Wonderful, wonderful. Catch those bald monks and cut them all into meat paste. First we will get the luggage and the white horse, and then we will avenge our chief."

The fellow said, "Do not rush. You go sharpen your knives. While I cook the rice, we will all eat our fill and then strike together."

So the thieves really did sharpen knives and knives, spears and spears.

Now the old man heard what had been said and quietly went to the back garden. He woke Tripitaka and the other three and said, "That fellow has led his men back. He knows that you are here and means to harm you. I am old, but I could not bear to see you injured after coming so far. Hurry and pack the luggage. I will send you out the back gate."

Tripitaka heard this, trembled all over, and kowtowed in thanks to the old man. Then he called Bajie to lead the horse, Sha Wujing to shoulder the luggage, and Wukong to take the nine-ring monk's staff. The old man opened the back gate and let them out, then went quietly back to sleep in front.

Now to return: after the bandits sharpened their knives and spears and ate their fill, it was already around the fifth watch. They all came into the garden to look, but found no one there.

They hurried to light lamps and torches and searched for a long time, but there was no trace of anyone. Only the back gate stood open.

They cried, "They went out the back gate! After them!"

So they shouted and gave chase. One and all they ran like arrows, straight to the east as the sun rose. Only then did they catch sight of Tripitaka.

The elder heard the shouting behind him and looked back. Twenty or thirty men came after him with spears and blades bristling.

He cried, "Disciples, the thieves have caught up. What are we to do?"

Wukong said, "Do not worry, do not worry. Old Sun will settle them."

Tripitaka reined in his horse and said, "Wukong, do not hurt anyone. It is enough if you scare them off."

Wukong paid no mind. He drew his staff and turned to meet them.

"Where are you all going?"

The thieves cursed, "Bald thief! Give us back our chief's life."

They formed a circle around Wukong and hacked and stabbed wildly with spear and blade.

The Great Sage shook the Golden-Hooped Rod, and it grew thick as a bowl. He beat the thieves until stars fell from the sky and the clouds scattered. Those he struck died; those he knocked on died; those he hit on the joints had their bones broken; those he grazed had their skin torn. A few clever ones ran away, but the stupid ones all went to see Yama.

Tripitaka, seeing so many men fall from his horse, was frightened and wheeled westward in panic. Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing followed closely with whip and stirrup.

Wukong asked one of the wounded men, "Which one was Yang's son?"

The thief moaned, "Grandfather, the one in yellow."

Wukong stepped up, snatched the knife away, cut down the one in yellow, and lifted his dripping head in his hand.

He gathered the iron staff, sprang up on a cloud, and caught up with Tripitaka's horse.

Holding up the head, he said, "Master, this is Yang's rebellious son. Old Sun has taken his head."

Tripitaka saw it and was terrified. He slipped from the horse and shouted, "You damned monkey, you scared me to death! Bring it here, bring it here!"

Bajie stepped forward and kicked the head into the roadside ditch. Then he used his rake to shovel dirt over it.

Sha Wujing set down the luggage and helped Tripitaka up.

"Master, please rise."

The elder, once he had steadied himself on the ground, began to recite the Tightening Spell. It squeezed Wukong until his ears turned red, his face darkened, his eyes swelled, and his head rang. He rolled on the ground, crying, "Do not chant it, do not chant it."

The elder kept chanting for more than ten times and would not stop.

Wukong somersaulted, stood on his hands like a candlestick, and could not bear the pain. He kept begging, "Master, spare me my offense. If you have anything to say, say it. Do not chant, do not chant."

Only then did Tripitaka stop and say, "Since there is nothing more to say, I do not want you following me. Go back."

Wukong knelt, still in pain.

"Master, why are you driving me away?"

Tripitaka said, "You brazen monkey, you are too fierce. You are not a man fit to seek scriptures.

Yesterday, when you killed those two bandit chiefs on the slope, I already thought you were heartless. Then when we reached the old man's house, he generously gave us vegetarian food and let us lodge there. He even opened the back gate and saved our lives. Though his son is unworthy, that has nothing to do with me, and you should not have cut off his head. Worse still, you killed so many people and destroyed so many lives, upsetting the harmony of heaven and earth.

I have counseled you again and again, but you do not show the slightest trace of kindness. Why should I keep you? Go, go quickly, so I do not have to chant the true words again."

Wukong was terrified and could only cry, "Do not chant, do not chant. I am going."

When he said that, he rode away on his somersault cloud and vanished without a trace.

A verse says:

When the heart harbors fierce madness, the cinnabar cannot ripen;
when the spirit has no fixed place, the Way is hard to complete.

But where the Great Sage has gone, no one knows. That must wait for the next chapter.