As the two of them went along the venerable monk asked from the horse's back, “Wukong, why has the iron cudgel you used to kill the tiger disappeared?”
“What you don't know, master,” replied Brother Monkey with a laugh, “is that I got it from the dragon palace of the Eastern Sea, and that it's called the Magic Iron to Hold the Bed of the Milky Way in Place or 'As-You-Will Gold-Banded Cudgel'. When I raised my great rebellion against the Heavenly Palace in the old days it served me well. It can change into anything and be whatever size I want it to be. Just now I turned it into an embroidery needle and put it away in my ear. I only take it out when I need it.”
Concealing his delight at hearing this, Sanzang went on to ask, “Why didn't that tiger move when it saw you? Why on earth did it let you hit it?”
“I can tell you in all truthfulness, master, that not just tigers but even dragons have to be on their best behavior when they meet me. I know a few tricks for putting them in their place and have the power to make rivers run backwards and stir up the seas. I can tell what things are really like from appearances alone, and sort out the truth behind what is said. When I want to make myself big I measure myself against the universe, and when I shrink I can be held on a downy hair. There's no limit to the transformations I can perform, and nobody can tell when I'm going to vanish or when I'm going to reappear. There was nothing wonderful about skinning that tiger. Wait till I show you a thing or two.” This took a great load off Sanzang's mind, and he whipped his horse on. As master and disciple went along their way talking together, the sun was sinking in the West, and they saw:
In the fiery glow of the setting sun
The clouds return to ends of the sky and the sea.
The birds on a thousand mountains chirrup and call,
Flying in flocks to the woods for the night.
The wild beasts go two by two;
All species return to their dens.
A crescent moon breaks through the dusk,
As countless points of starlight shimmer.
“You must hurry up, master, as it's late,” said Monkey. “There must be a house in that clump of trees over there, so let's get there as soon as possible to settle down for the night.” Sanzang whipped on his horse and galloped to the house, where he dismounted.
Brother Monkey put down the luggage, went up to the gate, and shouted, “Open up, open up.” An old man came out, leaning on a bamboo stick, and the gate creaked as he opened it. At the sight of Monkey's ugly face and the tiger-skin wrapped around him, which made him look like the god of thunder, the old man was so terrified that his legs turned to jelly and his body went numb.
“A devil… A devil,” he muttered deliriously.
Sanzang went up to support him, saying, “Don't be afraid, aged benefactor. He's no devil, he's my disciple.” When the old man looked up and saw Sanzang's pure face he felt steady on his feet at once, and he asked what monastery Sanzang was from, and why had he brought that evil-looking creature to his house.
“I come from the Tang Court,” said Sanzang, “and I am going to the Western Heaven to visit the Buddha and ask for the scriptures. As we were passing this way at nightfall we came to your mansion, good benefactor, to ask for a night's lodging. We shall be off before dawn tomorrow. I very much hope that you will be able to help us.”
“You may be a Tang man,” the old fellow replied, “but that ugly brute certainly isn't.”
“You've got no eyes in your head, you silly old man,” shrieked Brother Monkey. “He's my master and I'm his disciple. I'm no Tang man or Spike man, I'm the Great Sage Equaling Heaven. Some of the people who live in this house must know me, and I've seen you before.”
“Where've you seen me?” the old man asked.
“Didn't you gather firewood in front of my face and pick wild vegetables from my cheeks when you were a child?” said Sun Wukong.
“Rubbish,” retorted the old man.
“Where did you live and where did I live when I was supposed to gather firewood and wild vegetables in front of your face?”
“It's you who's talking rubbish, my child,” replied Sun Wukong. “You don't know who I am, but I'm the Great Sage from the stone cell under the Double Boundary Mountain. Take another look and see if you can recognize me now.” The old man at last realized who he was and said, “I suppose you do look a bit like him, but however did you get out?” Sun Wukong told him the whole story of how the Bodhisattva had converted him and told him to wait till the Tang Priest came to take off the seal and release him. The old man went down on his knees and bowed his head, inviting the Tang Priest inside and calling his wife and children to come and meet him; they were all very happy when they heard what had happened.
When they had drunk tea he asked Sun Wukong, “How old are you, Great Sage?”
“How old are you, then?” said Sun Wukong.
“In my senile way I have reached a hundred and thirty.”
“Then you could be my remote descendant,” said Brother Monkey. “I can't remember when I was born, but I spent over five hundred years under that mountain.”
“True, true,” remarked the old man, “I remember my grandfather saying that this mountain fell from heaven to crush a magical monkey, and you weren't able to get out before now. When I saw you in my childhood, grass grew on your head and there was mud on your face, so I wasn't afraid of you. But now that the mud and grass have gone you look thinner, and the tiger-skin round your waist makes you as near a devil as makes no difference.”
This conversation made everyone roar with laughter, and as he was a kind old man he had a vegetarian meal set out. When the meal was over Sanzang asked him his surname.
“Chen,” the old man replied. On hearing this, Sanzang raised his hands in greeting and said, “Venerable benefactor, you are of the same clan as myself.”
“Master,” protested Brother Monkey, “You're called Tang, aren't you, so how can you belong to the same clan as him?”
“My secular surname is Chen, and I am from Juxian Village, Hongnong Prefecture, Haizhou, in the Tang Empire. My Buddhist name is Chen Xuanzang. But as our Great Tang Emperor Taizong called me his younger brother and gave me the surname Tang, I am known as the Tang Priest.” The old fellow was delighted to hear that they shared a surname.
“Chen, old fellow,” said Monkey, “I'm afraid this will be putting your family out, but I haven't washed for over five hundred years, so could you go and boil up some water for me and my master to have a bath before we set out again? Thank you.” The old man gave instructions for water to be boiled and a tub brought, and he lit the lamp.
When master and disciple had bathed they sat down by the lamp, and Brother Monkey asked once more, “Old Chen, there's another thing I'd like to ask you: could you lend me a needle and thread?”
“Yes, of course,” the old man replied, sending his wife to fetch them and then handing them to Monkey. Monkey's sharp eyes had observed his master take off a short white cotton tunic, which he did not put on again, so Monkey grabbed it and put it on himself. Then he took off his tiger skin, joined it up with a pleat, wrapped it round his waist again, tied it with a creeper, went up to his master, and asked, “How would you say these clothes compared with what I was wearing before?”
“Splendid, splendid,” replied Sanzang, “it makes you look quite like a real monk. If you don't mind cast-offs,” he added, “you can go on wearing that tunic.” Sun Wukong chanted a “na-a-aw” of obedience and thanked him, then went off to find some hay for the horse. When all the jobs were finished, master and disciple went to bed.