Journey to the West, Volume Two

Journey to the West, Volume Two

Now it was said that the fifty defeated little demons, carrying tattered banners and broken drums, stumbled back into the cave and reported, “Great King, the Tiger Vanguard could not defeat that hairy-faced monk. He was driven down the eastern slope.”

When the old demon heard this, he was greatly troubled. He lowered his head in silence, pondering what plan to make. Just then another little demon guarding the front gate came in and said, “Great King, the Tiger Vanguard has been killed by that hairy-faced monk. He has dragged the body to the entrance and is shouting challenges.”

Hearing this, the old demon became even more enraged.

“What an ignorant wretch! I never even ate his master, yet he has killed my vanguard. Outrageous! Outrageous! Bring me my armor! I have only heard talk of this Sun the Pilgrim. I shall go out and see what sort of nine-headed, eight-tailed monk he is. I will capture him and make him pay with his life for my Tiger Vanguard.”

The little demons hurriedly brought out his armor. The old demon dressed himself completely, seized a three-pronged steel fork, and led his horde of demons out of the cave.

The Great Sage stood outside the entrance. When he saw the monster emerge, he found him truly fierce and valiant. Look how he was dressed:

A golden helmet flashed beneath the sun, Golden armor gathered radiant light. From the helmet streamed pheasant plumes, And over his mail hung a pale goose-yellow robe. A dragon-patterned belt gleamed around his armor, A shining breastplate dazzled the eyes. His deerskin boots were dyed like locust blossoms, His brocade apron trimmed with willow-leaf embroidery. In his hand he held a keen three-pronged fork, No less imposing than Erlang, the Illustrious Sage of old.

The old demon came through the gate and shouted harshly, “Which one is Sun the Pilgrim?”

The Pilgrim, with the tiger demon’s hide under his feet and the compliant iron staff in his hands, replied, “Your Grandfather Sun is here! Bring out my master!”

The monster looked carefully at him and saw that the Pilgrim was short and thin, his appearance unimpressive, scarcely four feet tall. He laughed.

“Pitiful! Pitiful! I thought the fellow who could overthrow my men would be some mighty hero. Instead you are nothing but a sickly skeleton!”

The Pilgrim laughed. “You worthless son have no eye for quality! Your grandfather may be small, but if you are willing to strike me on the head once with the shaft of your fork, I shall grow three feet taller.”

The monster said, “Brace your head and take my blow!”

The Great Sage showed no fear. The monster indeed struck downward. The Pilgrim bent his waist slightly and at once grew three feet taller, until he stood nearly ten feet high.

Startled, the demon checked his steel fork and shouted, “Sun the Pilgrim! Why are you showing off your protective transformations in front of my gate? Stop playing tricks! Come forward and let us test our real abilities!”

The Pilgrim laughed. “My son! As the saying goes, ‘If you spare a man, you do not raise your hand; once the hand is raised, there is no sparing.’ Your grandfather’s hand is very heavy. I fear you cannot endure even one blow from my staff!”

The monster would hear no more. He spun his steel fork and thrust straight at the Pilgrim’s chest. But the Great Sage was an expert and remained calm. He shifted his iron staff, used a move called “Black Dragon Sweeping the Ground,” deflected the fork, and struck at the monster’s head.

There at the entrance to Yellow Wind Cave, the two fought a tremendous battle:

The demon king raged; the Great Sage showed his might. The demon king raged, seeking vengeance for his vanguard; The Great Sage showed his might, seeking to rescue his master. Fork met staff, staff met fork. One was commander of all the mountain demons, The other the Handsome Monkey King, protector of the Dharma. At first they fought amid the dust, Then both rose into midair. The steel fork was pointed, gleaming, and keen; The compliant staff was black, ringed in yellow. One pierced its victims and sent their souls to the Underworld; The other struck them down before King Yama. Everything depended on quick hands and sharp eyes, And each combatant needed mighty strength. Both risked life and limb in desperate battle— Who would remain unharmed, and who would suffer wounds?

It is told that Tang Sanzang and his three companions, having escaped this calamity, continued onward. After some days they crossed the eight hundred li of Yellow Wind Ridge and entered a stretch of level country to the west.

Time passed swiftly. Summer ended and autumn came. The cold cicadas chirped among withered willows, and the Fire Star moved westward.

As they traveled, they suddenly came upon a vast body of water, with roaring currents, muddy waves, and surging billows.

From his horse Sanzang called urgently, “Disciples, look at the broad water ahead. There are no boats in sight. How are we to cross?”

Bajie looked and said, “It truly is a raging torrent. There is no boat with which to cross.”

The Pilgrim jumped into the air, shaded his eyes with his hand, and looked.

Even he was alarmed.

“Master, this really is difficult! Difficult indeed! If Old Sun alone wished to cross, I would only need to twist my waist once and I would be over. But for Master, it would be a thousand times difficult to cross and impossible even in ten thousand years.”

Sanzang asked, “It seems boundless from here. How wide is it?”

“Across, it is about eight hundred li.”

Bajie said, “Brother, how can you know the distance?”

“To tell you the truth, worthy brother, in daylight Old Sun’s eyes can normally see fortune or disaster a thousand li away. From the air just now I could not tell how far the river stretches upstream or downstream, but its width from bank to bank is certainly around eight hundred li.”

The elder sighed in distress and turned his horse back.

Then they noticed a stone monument on the bank.

The three went together to inspect it. Carved upon it in three seal-script characters were the words: