Sanzang, who had been anxiously waiting for him, was beginning to wonder why he had not come back. Had the Bodhisattva not come when asked to, or had Monkey just made up a story to escape? As he was being racked by these desperate thoughts, a shimmering cloud appeared in mid-air and Monkey came down and knelt before him.
“Master, here's the cassock,” he announced, to Sanzang's great joy.
All the monks of the temple were delighted too, and they exclaimed, “Wonderful, wonderful, our lives are safe at last.”
“Monkey,” said Sanzang as he took the cassock from him, “when you set out this morning you reckoned that it would only take the length of a meal, or until midday at longest. Why have you only come back now, at sunset?” When Monkey gave him a full account of how he had asked the Bodhisattva to transform herself to subdue the monster, Sanzang set up an incense table and bowed low to the South. That done, he said, “Disciple, now that we have the Buddha's robe, pack our luggage as quickly as you can.”
“Not so fast, not so fast,” Monkey replied. “It's already evening, too late to hit the road. Let's set out tomorrow morning.”
The monks all knelt and said, “Lord Monkey is right. For one thing it's too late, and for another we made a vow. Now that all is well and the treasure has been recovered, we would like to carry out that vow and invite Your Lordships to share in the thanksgiving meal. Tomorrow morning we'll see you off on your way West.”
“Yes, yes,” urged Monkey. The monks then emptied their bags and produced everything that was left of what they had saved from the fire to make an offering of food. Then they burnt some paper to bring blessings and recited some sutras to ward off disaster. The ceremonies were finished that evening.
The next morning the horse was curried and the luggage packed, and then they set out. The monks escorted them a long distance before turning back, after which Monkey led the way. It was now early spring.
The grass cushions the horse's hooves,
New leaves emerge from the willow's golden threads.
Apricot vies for beauty with peach;
The wild fig round the path is full of life.
On sun-warmed sandbanks sleep mandarin ducks;
In the flower-scented gully the butterflies are quiet.
After autumn, winter, and half of spring,
Who knows when the journey will end as they find the true word?
One evening, after they had been travelling along a desolate path for six or seven days, master and disciple saw a distant village. “Monkey,” said Sanzang, “do you see the village not far over there? Let's go and ask them to put us up for the night; we can set off again tomorrow morning.”
“Wait till I've made sure it's all right before deciding.” Monkey replied, gazing at the village as his master pulled on the silken rein. He saw
Close-planted bamboo fences,
Many a thatched roof.
Outside the gates soar lofty trees;
Houses are mirrored in the waters under a bridge.
Green grow the willows beside the road,
Fragrant bloom the flowers in the gardens.
As sun sets in the West
Birds sing in the wooded hills.
The smoke of evening rises from the stoves
Along the paths roam sheep and cattle.
Well-fed chickens and pigs sleep under the eaves,
While the drunk old man sings his song next door.
When he had surveyed the scene, Brother Monkey said, “Go ahead, master. It's definitely a good village. We can spend the night there.” Sanzang urged his horse forward, and in a few moments they were at the beginning of the main street. A young man appeared wearing a silken turban, a blue jacket, a pair of trousers tied at the ankles, and a pair of straw sandals. He was carrying an umbrella in his hand and a pack on his back. He was a fine sight as he walked briskly down the street. Monkey grabbed him and asked, “Where are you going? I want to ask you something-where is this?”
The fellow, who was trying to break loose, shouted, “Why ask me? I'm not the only person in the village.”
“Don't be angry, kind sir,” replied Monkey, all smiles. “To help others is to help yourself. What harm can it do to tell me what the place is called? We might be able to bring your troubles to an end, you know.” Struggle as he might, the fellow could not break loose, which made him leap around with fury.
“Damn it, damn it,” he shouted, “I get more bullying from the old man than I can stand, and now I've got to run into you, baldy. You've got it in for me too.”
“If you're good for anything, get out of my grip,” Monkey said. “Do that and I'll let you go.” The young man twisted and turned, but he could not break free-it was as if he were held in a pair of pliers. In his temper he threw down his umbrella and his bundle, and tore at Monkey with both hands, trying to get hold of him. Monkey was holding the luggage in one hand, and with the other he was keeping the young man under control, and no matter how hard the fellow tried he could not get a grip on him. Monkey, however, was now holding him more firmly than ever, and was bursting with fury.
“Monkey,” Sanzang said, “here comes someone else you can ask. Why keep such a tight grip on him? Let him go.”
“You don't understand, master,” replied Monkey with a smile. “It would be no fun to ask anyone else. I have to ask him if there's to be anything to be got out of this.” Seeing that Monkey would not let him go, the fellow started to talk.
“This is Old Gao Village in the country of Stubet, and it's called that because practically everyone here has the surname Gao. Now let me go.”
“From your get-up, you're going on a long journey,” Monkey went on. “Tell me where you're going and what you're up to, then I'll let you go.”
The poor fellow had no option but to tell Monkey the truth. “I'm Gao Cai from the family of Squire Gao. His youngest daughter is twenty and not yet married, but three years ago an evil spirit came and took her. He's been staying with us for three years, and the old man isn't at all pleased. There's no future in having a girl marry an evil spirit, he says. It's ruining our family, and we don't get a family of in-laws to visit. He's always wanted to get rid of the evil spirit, but he refuses to go. Now he's shut the girl up in the back building for the best part of a year, and he won't let any of the family see her. My old man gave me two ounces of silver and sent me to find a priest to capture the monster. I've been on the go for ages now, and asked three or four of them, but they were all hopeless monks or pimples of Taoists-none of them could control him. The old man's just been swearing at me as an utter idiot, given me five more ounces of silver as travelling expenses, and told me to find a good priest who'll deal with the monster. Then I was grabbed by you, you evil star, and that's made me later than ever. No wonder I shouted at you: I'm pushed around at home and pushed around when I go out. I never thought you'd be such a good wrestler that I wouldn't be able to break out of your clinch. Let me go now-I've told you everything.”
“You're in luck-we're in the business,” Monkey replied. “This is quite convenient; you needn't go any further or spend any of your money. We're not hopeless monks or pimples of Taoists. We've got some real magic powers, and we know how to deal with evil spirits. This'll do both of us a bit of good. Go back and tell the head of your household that my master is a saintly monk, and the younger brother of the Emperor of the East, who has sent him to visit the Buddha in the Western Heaven and seek the scriptures. We are very good at controlling devils and capturing monsters.”