“Detestable monster,” replied Monkey in kind. “You hang on to your devilish life for all you're worth, but how do you expect me to stand for my master, my fellow-disciples and horse all being hung up in your cave for no good reason at all? It's intolerable. Hand them over to me this moment and throw in some generous travelling expenses. Then I'll cheerfully be on my way and spare your rotten life.” With no more ado the demon lifted his sword and struck at Monkey's head, while Monkey raised his iron cudgel to meet him. It was a fine battle they fought outside the gates. Indeed!
The Gold-Banded Cudgel and the Seven-star Sword,
Flashing like lightning as they meet.
The chill wind from them makes one cold,
While mighty banks of cloud blot out the ridges.
One, moved by brotherly love,
Would do no act of kindness;
The other, out to save the pilgrim,
Showed no touch of mercy.
The two sides seethed with equal hatred,
Each of them sharing the same loathing.
They fought so hard that
Heaven and earth were thrown into darkness,
Gods and demons were terrified,
The sun went pale in the dense smoke,
Dragons and tigers trembled.
One gnashed his teeth, as if filing nails of jade;
The other's glaring eyes burned with golden fire.
Moving to and fro they showed off their valour,
In an endless play of sword and cudgel.
When the old demon had fought twenty rounds with Monkey and neither had emerged the victor he waved the scabbard of his sword and called all his little devils forward. Over three hundred of them all rushed up and surrounded Monkey. The splendid Great Sage, quite unperturbed, used his cudgel to strike and parry to either side, before and behind. The little devils all had great skill, and they fought their way ever closer to him, tying him up as if in a tangle of silk floss as they tugged at his waist and legs. They would not retreat. The Great Sage was so alarmed by this that he used extra-corporeal magic. Plucking a bunch of hairs from under his left ribs he chewed thew to pieces that he blew out with the shout, “Change!” Every piece turned into another Monkey. Just watch as the biggest ones wield cudgels, the short ones use their fists, and the tiniest ones, with no other way of attacking grabbed knuckles and sank their teeth into muscles.
The little devils were put to rout. “Your Majesty,” they yelled, “it's going all wrong. We're in terrible trouble. The whole mountain and everywhere else is swarming with Sun the Novices.” Now that his little devils had been thrown back by the extra-corporeal magic the demon king was hard-pressed; rush around as he might, there was to escape for him.
In his alarm the demon took his precious sword in his left hand and reached behind his neck with right hand to bring out the Plantain Fan. Then he turned towards the fire-gods of the Southeast and the Constellation Ligong he waved the fan. At once flames shot out of the ground, for such was the power of that treasure. The monster was truly ruthless. He waved the fan seven or eight times, setting great fires burning heaven and earth. It was a fine blaze:
Not a heavenly fire,
Nor a fire in a furnace,
Nor a fire on the mountain,
Nor a fire under the pot.
But the miraculous fire that comes from the Five Elements.
The fan is no ordinary object,
Nor was it fashioned by human skilclass="underline"
It is a treasure made when Chaos was first parted.
The fire caused by this fan
Shines and dazzles
Like red silk lightning;
Burns and blazes
Like crimson gauze sunsets.
Not a wisp of smoke,
Only a mountain covered in flame,
Turning the pines on its ridges into trees of fire,
And the cypresses by its crags into lanterns.
The beasts in their dens, fearful for their lives,
Rush hither and thither;
The birds in the woods, to save their feathers,
Fly far and high.
The magic fire that roars up to the sky,
Destroys the rocks, dries up the streams, and makes all red.
The Great Sage trembled with fear at the sight of this evil fire. “This is terrible,” he said. “It may do me no harm, but I can't save those hairs of mine. If they are caught by the fire they'll burn the way hair does.”
So he shook himself and took the hair back on his body, leaving just one behind as a facsimile of himself. Then, to avoid disaster by fire, his real self somersaulted upwards, reciting a spell to ward off the fire, and escaped from the inferno. He went straight back to the Lotus Flower Cave in the hope of rescuing his master. He rushed to the cave doors, brought his cloud down to land, and found over a hundred little devils there with smashed heads, broken legs, and open wounds. They had all been wounded by his magical other selves and were now standing there howling in agony. At the sight of them the Great Sage could not restrain his evil and murderous nature; he laid into them, swinging his iron cudgel. The poor devils, who were the fruit of so much hard work to acquire human form, became so many pieces of worn and hairy hide once more.
Having wiped out all the little devils the Great Sage stormed into the cave to free his master. Seeing more dazzling flames inside he was struck by a thought that filled him with panic: “That's done it. The fire's come in through the back door. There's no way I'll be able to rescue the Master.” Terrified though he was, he looked more carefully and saw that it was not flames but a golden glow. Pulling himself together he looked inside and saw that the light came from a vase in “mutton-fat” jade.
“What a beauty,” he thought with glee. “That's the vase that shone on the mountain when those two little devils were carrying it. I took it off them, then the demon king found it when he searched me later. Now I see that it shines when they keep it here too.” Watch him as he takes such pleasure in stealing the vase that instead of rescuing his master he gets out of the cave as fast as he can. He was just outside when the demon king appeared from the South, brandishing his magic sword and the fan. Before the Great Sage could take evasive action the demon raised the sword and hacked at his face. But the Great Sage immediately soared into the air on a somersault cloud and disappeared without trace.
Back at the cave mouth the demon king was so distressed by the sight of the corpses of his spirits all over the place that he threw back his head and groaned, and could not help wailing loudly at the pain of it. This is proved by a poem that goes:
Wicked the ape, and stubborn the evil horse,
That had their souls reborn in mortal form.
Because in their folly they left the halls of Heaven
They forgot themselves and landed in these hills.
Woeful the swan that loses the flock;
Tearful the demon soldiers whose race is destroyed.
When will their sin be done and their bonds released
So that they may return to their heavenly home?
Overcome with remorse, the Senior Demon King sobbed at every step as he went into the cave. Although all the objects and furniture were still in the cave it was silent and deserted. It made him even more lonely and depressed. He sat alone in the cave, slumped on the stone table, the sword leaning against it, and the fan behind his neck again. Thus he drifted into sleep. Indeed:
Happiness braces the spirit;
Sorrow just sends you to sleep.
The story goes on to tell how the Great Sage Sun turned his somersault cloud round and brought it to a stop in front of the mountain. As he wanted to rescue his master he fastened the vase securely at his waist and went back to the cave to reconnoiter. The doors were wide open, and the silence was unbroken, so he crept stealthily inside to find the old demon slumped against the stone table, fast asleep. The Plantain Fan stick out from his clothes at his shoulder, half covering the back of his head, and the Seven-star Sword was still leaning against the table. Monkey made his way forward very quietly, pulled the fan out, then turned and whooshed out. This was because the fan had rubbed against the monster's hair, waking him up. As soon as he looked up and saw that Monkey had stolen the fan he grabbed for his sword and went after him. By now Monkey was already outside the doors, the fan safely tucked in his belt and his iron cudgel in his hands as he met the monster's onslaught. It was a splendid fight.