“What a monkish thing to say,” observed the king with a smile. “You don't really think I would be afraid of them, do you?”
“Oh, no,” said Sanzang. “The surname of the older one is Pig; his personal names are Wuneng, Awakened to Power, and Bajie, Eight Prohibitions. He has a long snout, vicious fangs, bristles of steel and ears as big as fans. He is so heftily built that he makes a breeze as he walks. The surname of the second disciple is Sand, and his Buddhist name is Monk Awakened to Purity. He is twelve feet tall, and his arms are four feet thick. His face is the color of indigo, and his mouth is like a bowl of blood. His eyes burn and flash, and his teeth are like rows of nails. It was because they both look so terrible that I did not dare bring them with me.”
“Even after you have told me about them,” said the king, “I know that I have nothing to fear. Have them summoned here.” With that a messenger with a golden tablet was sent to the rest-house to invite them to the palace.
On receiving the invitation the idiot said to Friar Sand, “Brother, do you still think he shouldn't have delivered the letter? Now you can see the advantages of delivering it. I reckon that when the master delivered it, the king must have thought that the person who brought such a message could not be treated rudely and so laid on a banquet for him. As our master has such a weak appetite he must have remembered us and mentioned our names. This is why the messenger was sent here. After a meal we'll be able to make a good start tomorrow.”
“This must have been in our destiny,” said Friar Sand. “Let's go.” Entrusting their baggage and the horse to the manager of the hostel they accompanied the messenger to court; they kept their weapons with them. When they reached the white jade steps they stood below them and chanted a “na-a-aw” of respect then stood there without moving. Every one of the civil and military officials was horrified.
“Apart from being hideous,” they said to each other, “they are far too coarse and vulgar. Why are they standing bolt upright after a mere 'na-a-aw' instead of prostrating themselves before His Majesty? Shocking, quite shocking.”
Overhearing this, pig said, “Please don't make rude comments on us, gentlemen. This is the way we look, and although we seem ugly at first sight, after a while we become quite bearable.”
The king, who had been quite frightened at the sight of their brutishness, trembled so violently on hearing the idiot Pig talking that he lost his balance and fell off his dragon throne. Fortunately the gentlemen-in-waiting were on hand to help him up again.
This threw Sanzang into such a panic that he fell to his knees and kowtowed without stopping, saying, “Your Majesty, I deserve to die ten thousand deaths, ten thousand deaths. I said that my disciples were too hideous for me to dare to bring them to court for fear of harming your dragon dignity, and now I have given Your Majesty this fright.”
The king walked shakily over to him, raised him to his feet, and said, “Thank goodness you warned me about them beforehand, venerable sir. Otherwise I would undoubtedly have died of shock at the sight of them.” When the king had taken some time to calm himself down he asked Pig and Friar Sand which of the two of them was better at subduing fiends.
“I am,” said the shameless idiot.
“How do you do it, pray?” the king asked.
“I am Marshal Tian Peng,” Pig replied, “and I was exiled to this mortal world for offending against part of the Heavenly Code. Happily I have now returned to the truth and become a monk. I am the best fiend-subduer of all of us who have come here from the East.”
“If you are a heavenly general turned mortal,” said the king, “you must be good at transformations.”
“I wouldn't say that much,” Pig replied, “but I can do one or two.”
“Show me one,” said the king.
“Tell me what you want me to turn into,” said Pig. “Turn into a giant, then,” said the king.
Pig, who could do thirty-six transformations, now showed off his powers before the steps of the throne. Clenching his fist and reciting the words of the spell he shouted “Grow!” bowed forward, and grew eighty or ninety feet tall. He looked like one of the paper gods carried at the head of funeral processions. The civil and military officials trembled with fright; monarch and subjects alike gazed at him in stupefaction.
Then the General Guarding the Palace said, “You have certainly grown very tall, venerable sir. How much taller could you grow before you had to stop?”
“It depends on the wind,” replied the idiot, talking in his idiotic way. “I can manage quite well in an East or a West wind, and if a South wind blows up I can make a big dent in the sky.”
“Then give your magic powers a rest,” said the king, more frightened than ever. “We are sure you can do that.” Pig contracted himself to his real size and stood in attendance at the foot of the steps once more.
“What weapon will you use to fight the monster on this mission?” the king asked. Pig pulled his rake from his belt and said, “This rake.”
“But that would disgrace us,” said the king with a smile. “Here we have steel whips, maces, claws on chains, war-hammers, cutlasses, halberds, pole-axes, battle-axes, swords, bills, spears, and battle-scythes. Choose one that suits you-that rake doesn't count as a real weapon.”
“What Your Majesty doesn't realize,” Pig replied, “is that although it's crude I've carried it around with me since I was a child. I depended on it completely when I commanded eighty thousand sailors and marines as marshal of the Milky Way, the Heavenly River. Down in this world as my master's escort I've used it to smash the dens of tigers and wolves in the mountains and to turn the nests of dragons and leviathans upside-down in rivers.”
The king was thoroughly delighted and convinced on hearing this, so he ordered nine of his Royal Consorts to fetch a bottle of his own royal wine with which to send the venerable Pig off; then he filled a goblet and presented it to Pig with the words, “May this cup of wine, venerable father, express my gratitude for the service you are going to render. When you capture the evil monster and bring back my daughter you will be rewarded with a state banquet and a thousand pieces of gold.” For all his coarseness the idiot accepted it with style.
“Master,” he said to Sanzang after chanting a “na-a-aw” of respect, “you should drink this wine first, but His Majesty gave it to me and I dare not disobey him. Please allow me to drink first as it will brace my spirits for the capture of the monster.”
He drained the cup in one gulp, refilled it, and handed it to Sanzang, who said, “As I cannot touch alcohol you two must drink it for me.” Friar Sand came over and took it. Clouds now sprouted under Pig's feet and he shot up into mid-air.
“Venerable Pig,” exclaimed the king, “you can walk on clouds too!”
When Pig had gone Friar Sand drained his cup of wine at one draft too and said, “When the Yellow-robed Monster captured you, master, the pair of us were only just a match for him in combat. I'm afraid that my elder brother won't be able to beat him by himself.”
“Yes,” Sanzang replied. “You'd better go and help him.”
When Friar Sand too sprang up into the air on a cloud and went off, the anxious king grabbed hold of Sanzang and said, “Stay here with me, venerable sir. Don't you go flying off on a cloud too.”
“I, alas, cannot take a single step by cloud.” We leave the two of them talking to each other in the palace.
“I'm here, brother,” said Friar Sand as he caught Pig up.
“Why?” Pig asked. “The master told me to come and lend you a hand,” replied Friar Sand.
“Good, it's as well you've come. We two'll do our damndest and capture this fiend. Even though it won't be anything very big, it'll at least make us famous in this country.”