Chapter 28: Flower-Fruit Mountain Monsters Gather in Unity Three Tripitaka Encounters Demons in the Black Pine Forest

Although the Great Sage had been banished by Tripitaka, he still thought of him with a sigh. Looking towards the Eastern Ocean, he remarked, “It has been five hundred years since I last traveled this path!” He saw the ocean—

Vast mists stretched, immense waves rolled. The vast mists reached the celestial river, and the immense waves connected to the earth's veins. When the tide came, it surged violently, the water engulfing the coves. The surging tide roared like thunder in spring, and the water flooding the coves resembled fierce winds blowing through summer. Dragon-riding elders would frown in passing, and crane-riding immortals would often traverse it with worry. Near the shore, no villages appeared; by the water, few fishing boats were seen. Waves rolled like a thousand years of snow, and winds stirred an autumn chill in June. Wildfowl came and went freely, seabirds rose and fell at will. No fishermen were in sight, only the cries of gulls in the ear. Fish swam joyfully in the deep, while migrating geese grieved in the sky.

The Pilgrim leaped, crossing the Eastern Ocean, and soon arrived at Flower-Fruit Mountain. He lowered his cloud and opened his eyes to see that the mountain was devoid of flowers and plants, all mist and haze gone. Peaks and rocks had collapsed, and the forests were scorched and withered. Why was it so? Because when he had caused havoc in the Celestial Palace and was taken to the Upper Realm, the Illustrious Sage Erlang and his seven sworn brothers from Mount Meishan had set the mountain ablaze, leaving it ruined. The Great Sage felt even more wretched. An ancient poem, lamenting the ruined mountain, bears witness:

Looking back at the immortal mountain, tears streamed from my eyes; seeing its desolation, my heart grew even sorer. Then, I thought the mountain unharmed, but today I know the earth has suffered. How hateful Erlang destroyed me, how despicable that young sage bullied others. He fiercely dug up your ancestral spirits' graves, and needlessly shattered your family's burial mounds. All the mists and clouds in the sky have vanished; the winds and clouds across the land are sparse. From the eastern ridge, no striped tigers roar; on the western mountain, no white apes cry. In the northern stream, no foxes or rabbits leave tracks; in the southern valley, no deer or bamboo remain. Green stones have burned into a thousand pieces of earth; jade-like sand has turned into a heap of mud. Outside the cave, all tall pines have fallen; before the cliff, emerald cypresses are scarce. Ailanthus, fir, elm, cypress, chestnut, and sandalwood are charred; peaches, apricots, plums, cherries, pears, and dates are gone. With no mulberries or osage, how can silkworms be raised? With sparse willows and bamboos, where can birds perch? Skillful stones on the peaks have turned to dust; dry springs in the ravines are all overgrown with grass. The earth before the cliff is black, with no lingzhi or orchids; the red mud by the road is climbed by vines and creepers. Where did the birds of yesteryear fly? On which mountains did the beasts then roam? Leopards avoid this desolate place of rampant snakes and pythons; cranes shun this ruin where serpents lurk. I imagine it was my evil deeds of the past that led to this present hardship.

As the Great Sage was grieving, a sound emerged from the fragrant grassy slope and the hollow of thorny brambles. Seven or eight small monkeys leaped out, swarming forward, surrounding him, kowtowing and crying out, “Grandpa Great Sage! You’ve come home today!” The Handsome Monkey King asked, “Why are none of you playing or frolicking? Why have you all hidden yourselves? I’ve been here for a long time, but haven’t seen a trace of you. What happened?” Hearing this, the monkeys wept as they explained, “Ever since the Great Sage was captured and taken to the Upper Realm, we have truly suffered at the hands of hunters! We couldn’t endure their powerful crossbows and strong bows, their yellow eagles and vicious dogs, their nets, traps, and spears. So, valuing our lives, we dared not come out to play. We just hid deep in our caves and far from our nests. When hungry, we’d steal grass to eat from the slopes; when thirsty, we’d drink clear spring water from the ravines. Just now, hearing Grandpa Great Sage’s voice, we specially came to meet you, hoping for your protection.” Hearing this, the Great Sage felt even more miserable. He asked, “How many of you are left on this mountain?” The monkeys replied, “About a thousand, counting old and young.” The Great Sage said, “In my time, there were forty-seven thousand demons in total. Where have they all gone now?” The monkeys explained, “Ever since Grandpa left, this mountain was set on fire by Erlang Bodhisattva, and more than half of us were burned to death. We huddled in wells, burrowed into ravines, and hid under the Iron Plate Bridge, thus saving our lives. After the fire died down and the smoke cleared, there were no flowers or fruits to sustain us, making it difficult to survive, so another half went elsewhere. We, this remaining half, stayed on the mountain, enduring hardships. In the past two years, another half of us have been captured by hunters.” The Pilgrim asked, “What did they do with those they captured?” The monkeys said, “Speaking of those hateful hunters! They took those of us hit by arrows or spears, or killed by poison, stripped our skins, removed our bones, then stewed us with soy sauce, steamed us with vinegar, fried us in oil, and stir-fried us with salt, eating us as food. Some who were caught in nets or traps were taken alive to perform tricks: jumping through hoops, doing somersaults, standing on their heads, and making noise with gongs and drums in the streets, performing all sorts of acts.” The Great Sage grew even more furious upon hearing this. He asked, “Who is in charge in the cave?” The demons replied, “Marshals Ma and Liu, and Generals Ben and Ba are still in charge.” The Great Sage said, “You go tell them I’ve returned.” Those small demons burst into the cave, reporting, “Grandpa Great Sage has come home!”

Marshals Ma and Liu and Generals Ben and Ba, hearing the news, rushed out, kowtowed, and welcomed him into the cave. The Great Sage sat in the center, and the throng of demons prostrated themselves before him, saying, “Grandpa Great Sage, we recently heard that you had saved your life and were escorting Tripitaka to the Western Heaven to acquire scriptures. Why have you not gone west, but returned to your mountain?” The Great Sage replied, “My children, you do not know. That Tang Sanzang does not distinguish between the wise and the foolish. All along the way, I captured monsters and subdued demons for him, using all my lifelong skills. Several times I slew demons, but he accused me of violence and wickedness, refusing to have me as his disciple. He banished me back here, writing a letter of dismissal as proof, saying he would never use me again.”

The monkeys clapped their hands and burst into laughter, exclaiming, “What a blessing, what a blessing! Why be a monk? Come home instead and let’s play together for a few years!” They cried, “Quickly prepare some coconut wine to welcome Grandpa!” The Great Sage said, “Do not drink yet. Let me ask you, when do those hunters usually come to our mountain?” Ma Liu replied, “Great Sage, it’s not a matter of 'when'. They pester us here every single day.” The Great Sage asked, “Why haven’t they come today?” Ma Liu said, “They are likely on their way.” The Great Sage commanded, “My children, go out and gather the brittle, burnt stones from the mountain for me and pile them up. Make piles of twenty or thirty, or fifty or sixty stones; I have a use for them.” The little monkeys swarmed out, one after another, leaping and scrambling, haphazardly piling up many heaps. The Great Sage observed them, then instructed, “My children, hide inside the cave and let your Old Sun work his magic.”

The Great Sage ascended to the mountaintop to observe. From the southern side, drums boomed and gongs clanged. Over a thousand men and horses appeared, each accompanied by hawks and hounds, carrying swords and spears. The Monkey King carefully watched these dangerous newcomers. What brave and truly valiant men! One could see:

Fox furs covered their shoulders, brocade wrapped their waists and chests. Wolf-tooth arrows filled their quivers, precious carved bows hung at their hips. Men resembled tigers scouring the mountains, horses like dragons leaping across ravines. In groups, they led their dogs, and on their arms, they carried their hawks. Wicker baskets carried fire cannons, and they brought their Hai Dong Qings (falcons). There were hundreds of sticky poles carried on shoulders, and a thousand rabbit forks. Ox-head nets blocked the roads, and Yama’s knot-traps were everywhere. They all shouted chaotically, spreading out like stars across the sky.

Seeing these men encroaching upon his mountain, the Great Sage grew furious. He made a hand seal, muttered an incantation, inhaled a breath from the southeast, and then exhaled, conjuring a fierce gale. What a wind! One could see:

Dust and earth were scattered, trees toppled and forests destroyed. Ocean waves rose like mountains, murky currents invaded in myriad folds. Heaven and Earth were shrouded in gloom, sun and moon appeared dim. One gust shook the pines like a tiger’s roar, then suddenly entered the bamboos like a dragon’s moan. Ten thousand openings shrieked as if heaven sighed in rage, flying sand and scattered stones wildly injured people.

The Great Sage conjured this great wind, making the shattered stones fly and dance wildly with the gale, pitiably striking those thousand-plus men and horses, one by one—

Stones pulverized their heads, flying sand injured all their steeds. Like ginseng and cassia, they lay scattered on the hills; blood dyed the ground like cinnabar. Aconite could not return to its native soil, how could betel nut find its way home? Their pale corpses lay upon the mountain, their wives at home yearned in vain. A poem bears witness:

With men and horses dead, how could they return home? Wild ghosts and lonely souls were like tangled flax. Pitiful were the valiant heroes who, unable to distinguish wise from foolish, lay bleeding in the sand.

The Great Sage descended from his cloud, clapped his hands, and laughed heartily, “What a blessing, what a blessing! Ever since I submitted to Tripitaka and became a monk, he always advised me: 'A thousand days of good deeds are still not enough; one day of evil deeds is more than sufficient.' It’s truly so! When I followed him, I slew a few demons, and he accused me of violence. But today, having come home, I have finished off so many hunters!” He called out, “My children, come out!” After the fierce wind passed, the monkeys, hearing the Great Sage’s call, leaped out one by one. The Great Sage instructed, “Go to the foot of the South Mountain, strip the clothes from the dead hunters, wash off the bloodstains, and wear them to ward off the cold. Push all the corpses of the dead into that ten-thousand-foot deep pool. Drag the fallen horses here, skin them to make boots, and cure their meat to eat slowly. Use their bows, arrows, spears, and swords to practice your martial arts. Gather all their miscellaneous flags; I have a use for them.” The monkeys all acknowledged his commands.

The Great Sage took the flags, disassembled and washed them, combining them into a single colorful banner. On it, he inscribed fourteen characters: “Rebuilding Flower-Fruit Mountain, Restoring Water-Curtain Cave, Great Sage Equal to Heaven.” He erected a pole and hung the flag outside the cave. Day by day, he summoned demons and gathered beasts, accumulating fodder and storing provisions, never mentioning the word “monk.” His charisma was immense, and his powers were supreme. He went to the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas and borrowed some celestial rain and divine water, washing the mountain green again. He planted elms and willows in front, and pines and nanmu trees behind. Peaches, plums, dates, and apricots—nothing was lacking. He lived a life of carefree ease and contentment, settling down to enjoy his domain.

Now, Tripitaka, having believed the cunning nature and released the mind-monkey, mounted his horse. Pigsy led the way, and Sandy carried the luggage as they traveled west. After crossing White Tiger Ridge, they suddenly saw a stretch of wooded hills, truly overgrown with intertwining vines and creepers, with emerald cypresses and green pines. Tripitaka called out, “Disciples, the mountain path is rugged and very difficult to traverse. Moreover, there are dense pine forests and towering trees. We must be extremely careful, lest there be evil spirits or demonic beasts.” Behold that idiot Pigsy, shaking off his lassitude, told Sandy to lead the horse, while he himself cleared the path with his rake, guiding Tripitaka directly into the pine forest. As they were proceeding, the elder reined in his horse and said, “Pigsy, I am truly hungry today. Where can I find some vegetarian food to eat?” Pigsy replied, “Master, please dismount and wait here while I go look for some.” The elder dismounted, Sandy set down his pole, took out the alms bowl, and handed it to Pigsy. Pigsy said, “I’m off.” The elder asked, “Where are you going?” Pigsy replied, “Don’t worry. When I go, I will drill ice for fire to find food, and press snow for oil to make a meal.”

He emerged from the pine forest and traveled west for more than ten *li*, without encountering a single household. It was truly a place of wolves and tigers, devoid of human habitation. The idiot walked laboriously, muttering to himself, “In the days when Pilgrim was here, the old monk would always get whatever he wanted. Today, it’s my turn, and it truly is as they say: 'Only when managing a household does one know the cost of firewood and rice; only when raising a child does one understand a parent’s kindness.' It’s simply impossible to beg for food here.” Then, drowsiness overcame him, and he thought, “If I go back now and tell the old monk there’s no place to beg for food, he won’t believe I’ve walked so far. I must wander for another hour or so before it’s acceptable to report back. Oh well, oh well, I’ll just sleep in this patch of grass for a bit.” The idiot buried his head in the grass and lay down. At the time, he only intended to doze off and wake up quickly, but who knew that a person exhausted from walking, once they lay their head down, would just keep sleeping?

Leaving Pigsy sleeping there, the elder, meanwhile, felt his ears burn, his eyes twitch, and his body and mind uneasy in the forest. He quickly called out to Sandy, “Wuneng went to beg for food, why isn’t he back by now?” Sandy replied, “Master, you still don’t know! He sees that people in the West often offer food to monks, and his belly is so big, why would he care about you? He’ll only come back once he’s full.” Tripitaka said, “That’s true! What if he’s engrossed in eating food there? How will we find him? It’s getting late, and this is no place to stay. We must find lodging soon.” Sandy said, “No worries, Master. You just sit here, and I’ll go find him.” Tripitaka said, “Precisely, precisely. Whether there’s food or not, finding lodging is crucial.” Sandy grasped his precious staff and headed straight out of the pine forest to look for Pigsy.

The elder sat alone in the forest, feeling utterly bored and weary. He had to force himself to rouse his spirits, so he got up, gathered his luggage in one place, tied the horse to a tree, took off his bamboo hat, planted his tin staff, straightened his monastic robe, and slowly strolled through the secluded forest, merely to relieve his boredom. The elder looked at all the wild grasses and mountain flowers, but heard no birds chirping as they returned to their nests. It turned out that the forest paths were overgrown with deep grass and narrow. Because his thoughts were in disarray, he took a wrong turn. He wanted to relieve boredom and also to look for Pigsy and Sandy. Unbeknownst to him, while the two disciples were heading straight west, the elder wandered for a while and turned south instead. Emerging from the pine forest, he suddenly looked up and saw a golden light shimmering and an aura of colors rising from that direction. Looking closely, he saw it was a pagoda, with a golden spire emitting light. This was the setting sun reflecting brightly off the golden spire. He thought, “I, your disciple, must be truly unlucky! Since leaving the Eastern Land, I vowed to burn incense at every temple, bow to every Buddha, and sweep every pagoda I encountered. Is that glowing object not a golden pagoda? How did I not take that path? Below the pagoda, there must be a monastery, and inside the monastery, there must be monks. Let me go see. This luggage and white horse, I reckon no one passes through here, so they should be safe. If there's a convenient place there, I'll wait for my disciples to arrive and we can rest together.” Alas! The elder’s bad luck had arrived. Watch him stride forth directly to the pagoda, where he saw—

Stone cliffs rose ten thousand *ren* high, the mountain so vast it touched the azure sky. Its roots connected deep to the earth, its peaks pierced the heavens. On both sides were thousands of miscellaneous trees, with vines entwining for over a hundred *li* in front and behind. Flowers reflected in the grass tips, casting shadows in the wind; water flowed from cloudy crevices, moonbeams without root. Fallen trees lay across deep ravines, withered vines hung from gleaming peaks. Beneath the stone bridge, clear springs rolled and flowed; upon the platform, a brilliant white powder shone perpetually. From afar, it resembled the paradise of the Three Isles; close up, it was like the blessed land of Penglai. Fragrant pines and purple bamboos encircled the mountain streams; crows, magpies, and monkeys traversed the steep ridges. Outside the cave entrance, beasts walked in lines, coming and going; in the woods, birds flew in groups, in and out. Green fragrant grasses grew luxuriantly, vibrant wild flowers bloomed. This place was clearly a demonic realm, and the elder had unluckily stumbled upon it.

The elder stepped forward, arriving at the pagoda’s gate. Inside, he saw a spotted bamboo curtain hanging. He pushed through the entrance, lifted the curtain, and entered. Suddenly, he looked up and saw a demon sleeping on its side on a stone bed. How did it look, you ask?

A greenish-indigo face, white tusks, and a gaping mouth. On either side, his bushy sideburns were all dyed with rouge; three or four majestic purple whiskers seemed like rows of lychee sprouts. His nose was hooked like a parrot’s beak, his eyes stared like morning stars. His two fists resembled a monk’s alms bowl; his pair of blue feet were like gnarled branches clinging to a cliff. He wore a light yellow robe draped diagonally, surpassing even brocade kasayas. He held a sword that gleamed with dazzling light; the stone he slept on was smooth and flawless. He had once commanded small demons to form an ant-like array; he had once, as an old monster, presided over a bee-like court. Look at him, majestic and imposing, everyone shouting and calling him 'Sire.' He had once, under the moon, poured wine from a pot for three; he had once, amidst the wind, brewed tea, causing gusts beneath his armpits. Look at his vast magical powers, in a blink of an eye, he could roam to the ends of the earth. Wild forests were noisy with birds, deep thickets harbored dragons and snakes. Fairies planted fields yielding white jade, Taoists controlled fire to refine cinnabar elixirs. This small cave entrance, though not reaching Avici Hell, contained this fierce monster, who was truly a bull-headed yaksha.

When the elder saw his appearance, he was so frightened that he recoiled, his whole body numb, his legs weak and sore. He quickly turned to leave. Just as he turned, the demon, whose spiritual power was truly immense, opened a pair of golden fiery demon-eyes and called out, “My little ones, see who is outside the gate!” A small demon stretched its head out to look and saw a bald elder. It immediately scurried back inside and reported, “Great King, there’s a monk outside! He has a round head and a large face, ears hanging down to his shoulders, a tender, smooth body of flesh, and delicate, soft skin—truly a fine monk!” Hearing this, the demon laughed with a scoff, “This is what they call a fly on a snake’s head—food that comes by itself. All of you little ones, quickly go and seize him for me! I shall reward you handsomely!” Those small demons swarmed forward like a hive of bees. Tripitaka, though his heart raced like an arrow and his feet tried to move like flying, was ultimately terrified, his legs weak and lethargic. Moreover, with the mountain path being rugged and the forest deep and evening approaching, how could his steps move? He was simply carried off horizontally by the small demons. Indeed, it was a case of—

A dragon in shallow water is mocked by shrimp, a tiger on flat ground is bullied by dogs. Though good deeds often face obstacles, who faced as many as Tripitaka on his journey west?

Behold those small demons, who carried the elder and placed him outside the bamboo curtain, then joyfully reported, “Great King, we’ve brought the monk in!” The old demon secretly peeked at him and saw that Tripitaka was tall and dignified—indeed, a fine monk. He then thought to himself, “Such a fine monk must be a celestial being, not someone to be taken lightly. If I don’t put on a display of power, how will he submit?” Suddenly, he puffed himself up like a fox borrowing a tiger’s might: his red whiskers bristled upwards, his blood-red hair stood on end towards the sky, his eyes bulged, and he roared, “Bring that monk in!” The demons loudly answered, “Yes!” and simply pushed Tripitaka inside. When under a low eaves, how could one not bow one’s head! Tripitaka could only put his palms together and offer a respectful greeting.

The demon asked, “Where are you from, monk? Where did you come from? Where are you going? Explain quickly!” Tripitaka replied, “I am a monk from the Tang Dynasty, commanded by the Great Tang Emperor to journey to the Western Heaven to seek scriptures and verses. I passed through your esteemed mountain and specifically came to the pagoda to pay respects, not expecting to disturb your majesty. I beg for your forgiveness. Once I acquire the scriptures from the West and return to the Eastern Land, your great name shall be eternally recorded.” Hearing this, the demon burst into loud laughter, “I said he was a celestial being, and indeed it is you! I was just about to eat you, and you’ve come at an excellent time, truly excellent! Otherwise, wouldn’t I have missed out? You are destined to be my meal; you will naturally stumble here. Even if I let you go, you couldn’t leave; even if you tried to run, you couldn’t escape!” He called to the small demons, “Take that monk and bind him!” Sure enough, those small demons swarmed forward, tied the elder with ropes and cords, and bound him to the Soul-Fixing Stake. The old demon, holding his sword, asked again, “Monk, how many are there in your party? Surely you wouldn’t dare go to the Western Heaven alone?” Seeing the demon holding a sword, Tripitaka honestly replied, “Great King, I have two disciples, named Pigsy and Sandy. They have both gone out of the pine forest to beg for food. Also, a load of luggage and a white horse are left in the pine forest.” The old demon exclaimed, “What a windfall! Two disciples, plus you make three, and with the horse, that’s four—enough for a good meal!” A small demon said, “We’ll go capture them.” The old demon replied, “Don’t go out. Close the front gate. When the two of them return from begging for food, they will surely look for their Master to eat; if they can’t find him, they will surely come to my door. As the saying goes, 'Business that comes to your door is easy to do.' Let’s wait and capture them slowly.” All the small demons closed the front gate.

Leaving Tripitaka in distress, Sandy, meanwhile, emerged from the forest to look for Pigsy. He walked for more than ten *li* without seeing any village. He stood on a high mound, observing, when he suddenly heard someone speaking in the grass. He quickly used his staff to part the deep grass and saw that it was the idiot talking in his sleep. Sandy tugged his ear until he woke him, saying, “You lazy oaf! Master told you to beg for food, did he give you permission to sleep here?” The idiot woke up dazed and confused, asking, “Brother, what time is it?” Sandy replied, “Get up quickly! Master says whether there’s food or not, it doesn’t matter, but he told us to find lodging.” The idiot, still groggy, carried his alms bowl and leaned on his rake, returning directly with Sandy. When they arrived in the forest, they found their Master gone! Sandy complained, “It’s all your fault, you lazy oaf, for not coming back with food. A demon must have captured Master.” Pigsy laughed and said, “Brother, don’t talk nonsense. That forest is a refined and elegant place; there definitely aren't any demons there. Perhaps the old monk couldn't sit still and went off to look at the scenery. Let’s go look for him.” The two of them had no choice but to lead the horse, carry the luggage, gather the bamboo hat and tin staff, and leave the pine forest to search for their Master.

This time, it was also fated that Tripitaka should not die. The two searched for a while without finding him, when suddenly they saw a shimmering golden light directly to the south. Pigsy said, “Brother, the fortunate are truly fortunate. Look, Master has gone to their home. That glowing object is a pagoda, who would dare be disrespectful? They must have prepared vegetarian food and kept him there to enjoy it. Let’s hurry along and also get some food!” Sandy said, “Brother, we cannot determine whether it’s good or bad fortune yet. Let’s go and see.” The two bravely arrived at the gate. Ah! The gate was closed. They saw a white jade stone slab placed horizontally above the gate, on which six large characters were carved: “Bowl Mountain, Winding Moon Cave.” Sandy said, “Brother, this is no monastery; it’s a demon’s cave dwelling! Our Master might not be safe here.” Pigsy said, “Brother, don’t be afraid. You tie up the horse and guard the luggage. Let me go ask about their intentions.”

The idiot raised his rake and shouted loudly, “Open the gate, open the gate!” A small demon guarding the gate opened it, but upon seeing the appearance of the two, quickly pulled back and ran inside to report, “Great King! Business has arrived!” The old demon asked, “What business?” The small demon replied, “Outside the cave gate is a monk with a long snout and big ears, and another monk with a dark complexion, calling at the door!” The old demon rejoiced, “It’s Pigsy and Sandy looking for them! Hmm, they know how to find their way! How did they even find my door? Since their faces are fierce and brutish, we must not treat them lightly.” He called out, “Bring my armor!” A small demon brought it, and he quickly donned it, grasped his sword, and strode out of the cave. Meanwhile, Pigsy and Sandy were waiting at the gate when they saw the demon approaching, looking formidable. How did he appear, you ask?

A green face, red whiskers, and crimson hair fluttered, golden armor gleamed with abundant light. A belly wrap covered his waist, secured by a stone belt; a cord tightened his chest armor, resembling cloud-striding ribbon. He idly stood before the mountain, winds roaring; he roamed bored overseas, waves surging. A pair of blue-black sinewy hands grasped a soul-reaping, life-taking blade. If you wish to know this creature’s name and surname, his loud name is Yellow Robe.

The old Yellow Robe Demon emerged from the gate and asked, “What monks are you, shouting at my door?” Pigsy retorted, “My son, do you not recognize me? I am your venerable father! I am an emissary sent by the Great Tang to the Western Heaven! My master is the Imperial Brother Tripitaka. If he is in your house, quickly send him out, or I’ll save myself the trouble and rake my way in!” The monster laughed and said, “Yes, yes, there is indeed a Tang Monk in my house. I haven’t neglected him either; I’ve prepared some human flesh buns for him to eat. Why don’t you two come in and have one too?”

The idiot was seriously about to enter when Sandy grabbed him, saying, “Brother, he’s tricking you! When have you ever eaten human flesh?” Only then did the idiot realize. He drew his rake and swung it straight at the demon’s face. The monster dodged to the side and swiftly met the attack with his steel blade. Both displayed their magical powers, leaping onto clouds and fighting in the sky. Sandy abandoned the luggage and white horse, raised his precious staff, and eagerly joined the attack. At this moment, two fierce monks and one formidable demon fought furiously in the clouds. What a battle it was, just like—

Staff rose, blade met; rake came, blade parried. One demonic general unleashed his might, two divine monks manifested their powers. The nine-toothed rake was truly heroic, the demon-subduing staff genuinely fierce. Attacks came from all directions—front, back, left, and right—yet Yellow Robe showed no fear. See how his tempered steel blade gleamed like silver; his magical powers were truly vast. They fought until the sky was filled with swirling mist and cloud, and halfway up the mountain, cliffs crumbled and ridges cracked. One fought for his reputation, how could he yield? The others fought for their master, utterly fearless.

The three of them fought back and forth in mid-air for dozens of rounds, with no clear victor. Each valued their life, and indeed, it was a difficult and inseparable struggle. It remains unknown how Tripitaka will be rescued. We shall see in the next chapter.