Chapter 72: The Spider-Thread Cave Bewilders the Seven Passions; Zhu Bajie Forgets Himself at the Filth-Washing Spring

After taking leave of the king of Juzi, Tripitaka set his horse in order and went westward. He crossed ridge after ridge and followed river after river. Before he knew it, autumn had passed and winter was almost gone, and once more spring was bright and clear. Master and disciples were traveling and enjoying the green world when they suddenly saw a cluster of hermitages.

Tripitaka reined in, slid from the saddle, and stood by the road. Wukong asked, "Master, the road is smooth and harmless. Why are you not going on?"

Bajie said, "Brother, you really do not understand. The master has been riding so long that he is tired. Let him get down and catch a little wind."

Tripitaka said, "It is not to catch the wind. I see a household there and want to go ask for some alms myself."

Wukong laughed. "Master, what kind of words are those? If you want alms, I will go ask for them. As the saying goes, 'Once a teacher, forever a father.' How can a disciple sit high while making his master go beg for food?"

Tripitaka said, "That is not what I mean. Usually you go far and near to beg for alms because the road is empty. Today the house is right beside us. It is easy to call out to them, and I only want to try my hand once."

Bajie said, "Master, do not be stubborn. There is an old saying, 'When three travel together, the youngest is the one who suffers.' Since you are like a father to us and we are all your disciples, the old books say, 'When there is work, the disciple should do it.' Let me go."

Tripitaka said, "Disciple, the weather is clear today, unlike when the wind and rain are up. At such times, of course, you would go far away. But this house is close by. If there is alms, I can come right back and we can continue on our way."

Sha Wujing laughed from the side. "Brother, there is no need to go on and on. Since the master has such a mind, do not oppose him. If he gets angry, even if you bring back the alms he still will not eat them."

Bajie did as he was told and handed over the bowl, while Tripitaka changed clothes and cap with him. He strode ahead to the farmstead and looked it over. It was a fine place to live.

There was a stone bridge arching high, and old trees standing thick and straight. Beyond the bridge ran a clear stream, and beyond the trees the hidden birds kept up a clamor. On the far side were several thatched rooms, neat and quiet like an immortal's hut. There was also a window of woven reeds, bright and white, almost as if it mocked a Daoist retreat. Before the window, four lovely women were busy embroidering phoenixes and drawing dragons with their needles.

Seeing no man in the house, only four women, the elder did not dare go in. He stood still and slipped under the shadow of a tall tree. The women were each:

Their chamber hearts were harder than stone,
their orchid natures loved the breath of spring.
Their bright faces were colored with rosy clouds,
their red lips evenly touched with crimson.
Their brows curved like tiny moons,
their clouded temples were piled in layers.
Set them among flowers, and even a bee would be fooled.

After a little while the place had gone quiet indeed. No chicken was heard, no dog either. Tripitaka thought to himself, "If I cannot beg a bowl of rice, those disciples will only laugh at me and say that their master cannot even beg food, yet expects them to go off and worship the Buddha."

Having no other choice, and half ashamed of himself, the elder climbed the bridge and went on. A few steps farther, he saw a wooden pavilion under the thatched eaves, and beneath it three more women were playing kick-ball. They were different from the first four.

They were:

Their green sleeves fluttered, and their yellow skirts swayed.
Their green sleeves fluttered, lightly covering slender jade fingers;
their yellow skirts swayed, half revealing narrow golden lotuses.
Their bearing was perfect from head to toe,
their stillness and motion had a thousand kinds of grace.
They lifted their heads with high and low turns, all of it true and neat.
They kicked the ball in a turn that seemed to leap over walls,
then turned back and made it into a crossing-the-sea flourish.
They met it with a light touch like mud,
then drove it straight at the hook with a single spear-thrust.
A pearl on a Buddha's brow was handled with deft, sharp skill;
a narrow brick was caught with uncanny ease.
Waist bent low, knees folded, heels turned up;
they perched on benches, swept shoulders, and shook their sleeves.
Their kicks made the Yellow River seem to run backward;
even the fish sellers on Golden Carp Beach would have stared.
One might mistake the head for a turn of the foot,
another turn straight around into a hook.
One stood upright on the shin, then dropped into proper form;
a heel flicked out like a grass shoe tossed away.
Backward steps turned into graceful shoulder turns,
and the hooked foot was only a single awkward drop.
A basket-like swing would carry them down and long;
when they reached the prettiest point, all the girls cried praise.
Their sweat soaked their gauze robes and powdered faces,
and only when their spirits were spent did they call a halt.

The scene was too lively to tell all at once, so here is a verse to prove it:

In the third month the kick-ball court is like spring itself;
immortal breezes blow down to bring white fairies.
Sweat dampens the powdered cheeks, and flowers seem to bloom with dew;
dust touches the brows like willow smoke.
Green sleeves droop low to cover slender jade fingers;
yellow skirts are tugged aside to reveal narrow golden lotuses.
After a few kicks, the lovely girls are weak with charm;
cloud hair comes loose, and jeweled buns tilt askew.

Tripitaka watched for a long while. At last he climbed the bridge, raised his voice, and said, "Ladies, this poor monk has come by chance and begs a little food."

The women heard him and became all smiles. They dropped their needles, pushed aside the ball, and came out laughing to greet him.

"Holy monk," they said, "we failed to welcome you sooner. Since you have come to this rustic farm, we would never dare block the road to a monk seeking alms. Please come inside and sit."

Tripitaka thought to himself, "Goodness! The Western land is truly Buddha country. Even women here know to honor monks with alms. How much more should men have faith?"

He asked after them politely and followed the women into the thatched house. When he passed the wooden pavilion and looked again, he saw that there were no halls or corridors inside at all. Instead:

The ridge walls rose high and the veins of the earth ran far and long. The ridge walls rose to meet the clouds; the earth's veins stretched to sea and mountain. The gate lay near a stone bridge, where the water wound in nine bends and nine turns. Peach and plum trees were planted all around, with a thousand trunks and a thousand blossoms in fierce bloom. Creepers hung from three or five trees, and orchids and herbs sent their fragrance out through ten thousand flowers. From afar the place could pass for a fairy cave on a Penglai islet; from near, its hills and woods could press even Mount Hua down flat. It was a true retreat for demon immortals, with no neighbors and no other houses, all by itself.

One woman came forward, pushed open the stone door with both hands, and invited Tripitaka inside. He had no choice but to go in. When he looked up, he saw only stone tables and stone stools, with a chill in the air.

The elder was alarmed and thought to himself, "This place is more dangerous than lucky. It is certainly not good."

The women smiled all the while and said, "Holy monk, please sit."

He had no choice but to sit down.

Before long he felt a cold shiver. The women asked, "Holy monk, what mountain are you from? What alms do you beg? Are you here to repair bridges and roads, to build temples and set up pagodas, or to cast Buddha images and copy scriptures? Please show us your donation book and let us see it."

Tripitaka said, "I am not a begging monk."

The women asked, "If you do not beg alms, what business brings you here?"

Tripitaka said, "I am a monk from the eastern Tang, sent to the Western Heaven and Thunderclap Monastery to seek the scriptures. I have just passed through your noble district and am hungry, so I have come to your good house to ask for a meal. Once I am fed, I will be on my way."

The women said, "Good, good. As the old saying goes, 'A monk from afar is worth looking at the scriptures for.' Sisters, do not be lazy. Quickly make the meal."

Meanwhile three of the women stayed with him and talked of all kinds of kinship and household matters while the other four went into the kitchen, rolled up their sleeves, and cooked over the fire and scrubbed the pots. What did they prepare? It was human grease fried and human flesh stewed - blackened and mashed up to look like gluten, with human brains scraped and boiled into tofu-like slices.

They brought two trays to the stone table and set them down.

"Please eat," they said. "We had no time to prepare a proper meal. Just take a little for now. More will come after this."

Tripitaka smelled the foul stench and did not dare open his mouth. Folding his hands, he said, "Ladies, this poor monk has been a vegetarian from the womb."

The women laughed. "Holy monk, this is vegetarian."

Tripitaka said, "Amitabha! If this is what you call vegetarian, then if a monk eats it he can forget ever seeing the World-Honored One or obtaining the scriptures."

The women said, "Holy monk, you are a renunciant. Do not pick and choose over alms."

Tripitaka said, "How would I dare? This poor monk is under the order of Great Tang. I have come west all the way here. I do not harm even the tiniest life. When I see grain, I pick up a kernel and eat it; when I come upon thread, I knot it together to cover myself. How would I dare reject a benefactor's offering?"

The women smiled. "You may not reject offerings, holy monk, but there is only one thing: the people who have come to our door are strange. Do not mind the roughness and eat a little."

Tripitaka said, "I really dare not eat it. I fear I will break my vows. Please, bodhisattvas, it is better to save life than to nourish it. Let me go."

The elder struggled to leave, but the women blocked the door and would not let him go. They all said, "Once a business comes to the door, it is hard to refuse. You let out one fart and still want to cover it with your hand. Where do you think you are going?"

Each of them knew a little martial skill, and they were quick with hands and feet. They grabbed the elder, lifted him as easily as a sheep, and slammed him to the ground.

They pinned him down, tied him with ropes, and hung him from the beam. This hanging trick was called Immortal Points the Way. One rope led from a hand stretched forward, one rope bound him around the waist, and one rope held up his feet from behind, so that he hung from three lines on the beam, his back up and his belly down.

The elder gritted his teeth and held back tears, thinking bitterly, "My poor monk's fate is indeed bitter. I thought this was a good household where I could beg a meal, but who knew it would become a fire pit? Disciples, hurry and save me. Then we may still see each other. If two hours pass, my life is over."

Even in his misery the elder kept watching those women. Once they had him properly hung, they began stripping off their clothes. He was alarmed and thought, "If they strip now, they are going to eat me alive. Perhaps they will even eat me half-cooked."

But in fact the women only took off their outer silk robes, bared their bellies, and showed their arts: from each navel burst a thread thick as an egg. The cords rolled and billowed, swelling up and spreading until they hid the front gate under a canopy of silk, which we need not explain further for now.

Meanwhile Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing were still beside the road. The two of them took care of the horse and luggage, while Wukong, who was always the most mischievous, climbed trees, broke branches, and plucked leaves and fruit.

Then he turned and saw a sheet of white light. Frightened, he jumped down from the tree and shouted, "Not good, not good. The master's luck is low."

Wukong pointed and said, "Look at that farmstead."

Bajie and Sha Wujing looked together, and the whole place shone white as snow, bright as snow, like silver and gleaming like silver.

Bajie cried, "Bad news, bad news. The master has run into a monster. We must hurry to rescue him."

Wukong said, "Brother, do not shout. You see nothing at all. Let Old Sun go and look first."

Sha Wujing said, "Brother, be careful."

Wukong said, "I have my own way."

The Great Sage tied up the tiger-skin skirt around his waist, drew out the Golden-Hooped Rod, and ran forward in a few strides. He saw that the silk cords were layered a thousand times over, crossing and recrossing until they looked like the warp and weft of cloth. He pressed them with his hand and found them slightly sticky and soft. Even then he still did not know what they were.

He raised his rod and said, "This one blow would snap it even if there were only a few thousand layers, let alone a few tens of thousands."

Then he paused and said to himself, "If it were hard, I could break it. But this is soft, and I can only flatten it. If I alarm them and get myself tangled, that would be no good. Better ask first and then strike."

Whom did he ask? He pinched a spell and recited an incantation, summoning the local earth god from his shrine, spinning him around like a millstone. The earth god's wife said, "Old man, why are you spinning? Have you been struck by the sheep's-fury sickness?"

The earth god said, "You do not know. You do not know. The Great Sage Equal to Heaven has come. I did not go out to meet him, and now he is summoning me."

The wife said, "Then go out and see him. Why are you spinning here?"

The earth god said, "If I go out, his rod is terribly heavy. He strikes first and asks questions later."

The wife said, "He will not hit you just because you are old."

The earth god said, "He has spent his whole life drinking without money and especially likes to beat old people."

The pair talked for a while, and in the end there was no choice. He went trembling out and knelt by the road. "Great Sage, the local earth god pays respects."

Wukong said, "Get up. Do not rush. I will not strike you for now. I only want to ask something. What place is this?"

The earth god asked, "Great Sage, where have you come from?"

Wukong said, "I came from the eastern land and am traveling west."

The earth god said, "Since the Great Sage came from the east, did you see the mountain ridge over there?"

Wukong said, "We are on that ridge now. Our baggage and horses are still resting there."

The earth god said, "That place is called Spider-Thread Ridge. Below the ridge is a cave called Spider-Thread Cave. Inside live seven female demons."

Wukong asked, "Are they male monsters or female monsters?"

The earth god said, "This little god has thin power and weak authority. I do not know how great their skill is. I only know that three li to the south there is a spring called the Filth-Washing Spring. It is a natural hot spring and once belonged to the bath pool of the Seven Immortal Maidens above heaven. Ever since these monsters came to live here, they occupied the spring. The maidens never argued with them and simply let it go. I have always believed that if the celestial maidens do not dare provoke them, then the spirits here must be of great power."

Wukong asked, "So what of it if they occupy a spring?"

The earth god said, "These monsters have taken the bath pool and go out to bathe three times a day. Now the hour of snake has already passed and the hour of horse is coming."

Wukong said, "Earth God, go back for now. I will deal with them myself."

The old god bowed once and hurried back to his shrine.

The Great Sage showed off his powers alone, shook himself, and changed into a greasy gray fly. He pinned himself to a blade of grass by the road and waited. In a little while he heard a sound of huffing and puffing, like silkworms chewing leaves and like tides rising from the sea. After only a short while, the silk ropes were all gone and the farmstead appeared again just as it had before.

Then came a creak from the brushwood gate, and laughter and chatter spilled out. Seven women came walking out. Wukong watched carefully from hiding. They were all linked hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, talking and laughing as they crossed the bridge. They were truly lovely. They were:

More fragrant than jade, more graceful than flowers;
their voices were truer than blossoms in speech.
Their brows were like distant green ridges,
their lips were like split cherries.
Their hairpins were tipped with jade feathers,
and their golden lotuses flashed beneath red skirts.
They seemed like Chang'e coming down to the mortal world,
like immortal girls fallen among dust and earth.

Wukong laughed. "No wonder my master wanted to beg alms here. So these were the fine goods. If these seven beauties kept my master here, he could not eat even a single meal, and even if they used him, it would not last two days. If they took turns on him, one round would kill him. Let me go listen and see how they plan it."

The Great Sage chirped once and flew to the cloud-top bun of the leading woman and pinned himself there. As they crossed the bridge, the woman behind her called out, "Sisters, after we bathe, let us steam that fat monk and eat him."

Wukong laughed to himself. "These monsters really have no plan. It would be easier to boil him, and they still want to steam him."

The women gathered flowers and kicked through the weeds as they went south. Before long they reached the bath pool. There stood a gate wall, grand and imposing, with wildflowers blooming thick and bright all over the ground and orchids and herbs growing dense along the sides. One woman went forward, whistled sharply, and pushed open the two doors. There in the middle was a pool of hot water.

This water was:

Since the opening of heaven and earth, the sun's true fire has never run dry;
after Hou Yi shot down nine of the crows, only one remained.
The nine solar springs in the world all came from those birds.
This one is the Filth-Washing Spring.
One current never knows winter or summer;
through all three autumns it keeps spring flowing.
The hot waves boil like a cauldron;
the snow-white spray is as fresh as broth.
Its running channels nourish grain and crops;
its still water washes away worldly dust.
Pearl drops ripple and spread;
jade drops bubble and rise.
What makes it smooth is not any brew;
what makes it warm is natural purity.
Auspicious signs reveal the beauty of the place;
creation itself is the true and original thing.
When lovely women bathe here, their ice-smooth skin turns slick,
and their bodies come out washed clean of worldly worry.

The bath pool was about five zhang across and more than ten zhang long, with a depth of four feet or so, and the water was clear to the bottom. Bubbles rolled up from below like pearls tumbling and jade surging. Six or seven holes on all sides let the water flow through, and after running two or three li the stream still kept its warm water as it spilled into the fields.

Above the pool were three small pavilions. Inside the pavilion near the back wall stood an eight-legged bench. At both sides of the hills stood two painted clothes racks.

Wukong was delighted. He fluttered over and pinned himself to the top of one rack.

When the women saw how clear and warm the water was, they stripped off their clothes and hung them on the rack, then all went in together. Wukong watched:

They loosened the buttons and untied the silk sashes.
Their soft breasts were white as silver, their bodies white as snow.
Their elbows were like ice laid out in a shop,
their fragrant shoulders like powder shaped by hand.
Their bellies were soft and smooth,
their backs bright and clean.
Their knees and ankles were half-circled and round,
their golden lotuses no more than three inches wide.
Between them lay one stretch of lovely flesh,
open and blooming with a worldly charm.

The women all leaped into the water and played in the waves. Wukong thought, "If I were to strike them, I would only need to stir the pool once with my rod and it would be like scalding water poured over rats - the whole nest dead at once. But pity them. If I kill them, it would only cheapen my own name.

As the saying goes, a man does not fight a woman. Since I am such a man, it would be no credit at all to beat these girls to death. Better not strike them. I will give them one cruel trick instead, so they cannot move at all. That would be better."

The Great Sage pinched a spell, recited an incantation, and changed himself into a hungry hawk. He was:

Fur white as frost and snow, eyes bright as stars.
When demons and fox spirits saw him, their souls left them at once;
when sly rabbits saw him, their courage vanished.
His claws were steel-sharp, his bearing fierce and strong.
He could use his beak to seize whatever fed the belly,
and he did not mind using his own hands to chase the rising wind.
He could rise and sink across ten thousand li of cold sky,
breaking through clouds and snatching what he pleased.

With one flap he flew forward, spread his sharp claws, and seized every one of the seven suits of clothes from the rack. Then he turned back to the ridge and showed his true shape to Bajie and Sha Wujing.

Bajie laughed and said, "So the master went to a pawnshop and took it all."

Sha Wujing asked, "How do you figure that?"

Bajie said, "Can't you see Brother has brought back all their clothes?"

Wukong set them down and said, "These are the monsters' clothes."

Bajie asked, "How did you get so many?"

Wukong said, "Seven suits."

Bajie said, "How did you strip them so easily and so cleanly?"

Wukong said, "I did not strip them at all. This place is called Spider-Thread Ridge, and the farmstead is called Spider-Thread Cave. Inside there are seven female monsters who trapped my master and hung him in the cave. Then they went to the Filth-Washing Spring to bathe.

That spring was made by heaven and earth, a pool of hot water. They had worked out that once they had bathed, they would steam the master and eat him. I followed them there, and when I saw them take off their clothes and go into the water, I wanted to strike them. But I feared it would dirty my rod, and I also did not want to lower my own name. So I did not strike. I only turned into a hungry hawk and snatched away their clothes.

They are all now ashamed and dare not come out. They are crouched in the water. Let us hurry and untie the master and be off."

Bajie laughed. "Brother, whenever you do anything, you always leave a root behind. Since you saw the monsters, why not kill them? Why bother first to rescue the master? Even if they are too ashamed to come out now, they will surely come out by nightfall. They have old clothes at home and can put on another set to chase us. Even if they do not chase us, we will still have to come back through here after we fetch the scriptures.

There is an old saying, 'Better to have a little money by the roadside than a little fist by the roadside.' If they block the road and start shouting then, will they not still be our enemies?"

Wukong said, "You can do as you please. How would you handle it?"

Bajie said, "If it were up to me, I would first kill the monsters and then go free the master. That would be a true plan of clearing the weeds at the root."

Wukong said, "I will not strike them. If you want to strike them, go strike them yourself."

Bajie puffed himself up, delighted from head to toe, lifted his rake, and ran straight there. He pushed open the door and saw the seven women crouched in the water, cursing the hawk in a noisy chorus: "That flat-feathered beast! That cat-chewing dead thing! It has carried off all our clothes. How are we supposed to move now?"

Bajie could not hold back a laugh. "Ladies of compassion, are you bathing here? Take me along and let this monk bathe too. How about it?"

The monsters glared at him and said angrily, "You monk, you are far too rude. We are women who belong at home, and you are a man who has left home. The old books say that for seven years men and women should not even share a mat. How can you bathe with us in the same pool?"

Bajie said, "It is hot weather. There is nothing for it. Let me bathe a little. What is all this talk about books and mats?"

The fool would not be stopped. He threw down his rake, stripped off his black brocade robe, and with a splash jumped into the water.

The monsters grew angry and rushed up to hit him. But Bajie knew water very well. Once he was in the pool, he shook himself and turned into a catfish spirit. The monsters reached in and tried to catch him, but could not lay hands on him. He darted east, and then suddenly sank west; they groped west, and then he slipped east. Slimy and slippery, he kept sliding straight between their legs. The water was more than chest-deep. They swam for a while on top, then floundered on the bottom, until they were all knocked over and were panting, tired out, and worn down.

Bajie jumped up again, showed his true form, put on his robe, gripped the rake, and shouted, "Who do you think I am? You think I am a catfish spirit?"

The monsters were shocked and frightened. They said to Bajie, "You were a monk just now, then in the water you changed into a catfish, and now when we cannot catch you you are dressed like this. Where did you really come from? You must tell us your name."

Bajie said, "You wretched monsters really do not know me. I am a disciple of the Tang monk from the eastern land of Great Tang, the former Marshal Tianpeng, Zhu Bajie, called Wuneng. You hung my master in the cave and plotted to steam him and eat him. My master, too, is to be steamed and eaten? Come here and stick out your heads, and I will give each of you a blow with my rake and break off the root."

When the demons heard this, their souls flew out of their bodies. They fell to their knees in the water and begged, "Please, Great Lord, have mercy and kindness. We were blind and took your master by mistake. Though we hung him there, we did not dare punish him or make him suffer. Have mercy and spare our lives. We are willing to pay your travel costs and send your master all the way to the Western Heaven."

Bajie waved his hand. "Do not talk like that. As the old saying goes, 'I have once been fooled by a candy seller, and now I do not believe sweet talk.' Either I strike you with the rake, or you go your separate ways."

The fool was rough and brutal all the way through, with no pity for beauty or grace. He held up the rake and rushed forward, beating without distinction. The monsters panicked and no longer cared about shame. Life came first. They covered their shame with their hands, leaped out of the water, and ran into the pavilion, where they cast their spell: from their navel holes burst silk cords, and in no time they strung a huge silk canopy over the sky and trapped Bajie in the middle.

The fool looked up and saw no sky at all. He tried to turn and run, but there was nowhere for his feet to go.

The monsters had laid trip cords all over the ground with silk. If he moved a foot, he stumbled and fell face-first. If he turned left, he pitched flat on his face. If he turned right, he toppled headfirst. If he wheeled quickly around, he fell mouth-first to the ground. If he hurried to get up, he fell again like a standing dragonfly. No one knew how many somersaults he took. In the end the fool was so battered that his body went numb, his legs went soft, his head spun, and he could neither crawl nor rise. He lay on the ground groaning.

The monsters, having trapped him, did not beat him or wound him. One by one they leaped out the door, kept the silk canopy over the daylight, and went back to their cave. When they reached the stone bridge, they stood still and muttered their spell. In an instant the canopy was drawn in, and they ran naked back into the cave, covering themselves while smiling as they passed Tripitaka's face. They went into the stone room, took out a few old clothes, put them on, and walked straight to the back gate. There they stood and called, "Children, where are you?"

It turned out that each monster had children, but not children of their own bearing. They were all adopted godsons, with names like Bee, Wasp, Hornet, Striped Bee, Grasshopper, Waxfly, and Dragonfly. In truth the monsters had strung a net over the sky and caught these seven kinds of insects, intending to eat them. As the old saying goes, birds have bird speech and beasts have beast speech.

When they were first caught, the little insects begged for mercy and offered to serve as their mothers' children. Since then, in spring they brought flowers, and in summer they sought out herbs, all to honor the monsters. Now they heard the call and came at once, asking, "Mother, what orders do you have for us?"

The monsters said, "Children, this morning we offended a monk from Great Tang by mistake. Just now his disciples blocked us in the pool and embarrassed us so badly that we nearly lost our lives. Do your best. Go out quickly and push them back. If you win, come to your uncle's house and meet me there."

The monsters had just escaped with their lives and were going to deal with the brothers, but we need not linger on that. Look at these insects instead: each of them rolled up his sleeves, clenched his fists, and came out to face the enemy.

Bajie, meanwhile, had been thrown about until he was dizzy and dark-eyed. He suddenly looked up and saw that all the silk canopy and all the silk cords were gone. Only then did he stumble one step at a time back along the road, holding back the pain. When he met Wukong, he grabbed him and asked, "Brother, are my head swollen? Is my face blue?"

Wukong said, "What happened to you?"

Bajie said, "Those wretches covered me with silk cords and laid trip lines everywhere. I do not know how many times I fell. They knocked my waist crooked and my back bent, and I could hardly move a single step. Only when the silk canopy and the cords were gone did I get my life back and make it here."

Sha Wujing said, "Bad news, bad news. You have caused trouble. Those monsters have surely gone back into the cave to harm the master. We must hurry and save him."

When Wukong heard this, he rushed off at once. Bajie led the horse. They hurried to the front of the farmstead and saw seven little monsters blocking the bridge.

"Slow down, slow down," they shouted. "We are here."

Wukong looked and laughed. "How funny. They are all tiny fellows. The tallest is only two and a half feet, barely three feet at most. The heaviest is only eight or nine catties, not even ten. Who are you?"

The monsters said, "We are the sons of the Seven Immortal Maidens. You have insulted our mothers and still dare to come battering at our door. Do not run. You had better be careful."

What a set of monsters they were, all striking wildly together. Bajie had already worked himself up into a rage from his falling, and now that he saw those insects so small, he flew into a fury and raised the rake to smash them.

Seeing how fierce the fool was, the monsters revealed their true shapes and flew up at once, crying, "Change!"

In an instant one turned into ten, ten into a hundred, a hundred into a thousand, a thousand into ten thousand, and all of them multiplied beyond counting. There were bees flying in the sky and dragonflies dancing on the ground. Bees and wasps chased at their heads and faces; hornets stabbed at their eyes.

Striped bees bit front and back, grasshoppers stung above and below. The whole front was darkened as if by a cloud, and even ghosts and spirits would have been startled.

Bajie cried in alarm, "Brother, all I said was that the scriptures were easy to obtain. On the western road even insects bully people!"

Wukong said, "Brother, do not be afraid. Move forward and strike."

Bajie said, "They sting me all over, head and face, every inch of me, layered up ten deep. How am I supposed to strike?"

Wukong said, "No matter. I have my own method."

Sha Wujing said, "Brother, if you have a method, use it quickly. The skin on your head is already swelling."

The Great Sage plucked a handful of hairs, chewed them to pieces, and spat them out. At once they turned into yellow hawks, brown hawks, kites, white hawks, eagles, fish hawks, and falcons.

Bajie said, "Brother, what is this marketplace talk? Yellow what? Brown what?"

Wukong said, "You do not know. Yellow means yellow hawk, brown means brown hawk, kite means a kind of hawk, white means white hawk, eagle means eagle hawk, fish hawk means fish hawk, and falcon means falcon hawk. The monster's children are seven kinds of insects, and my hairs are seven kinds of birds of prey."

Birds of prey are best at catching insects. One bite for one, claws beating and wings striking. In a moment they had eaten them all clean. The sky was empty, and the ground was piled a foot deep with remains.

Only then did the three brothers burst across the bridge and enter the cave. There they saw their master hanging up, groaning and weeping.

Bajie came forward and said, "Master, you came here for fun and got yourself hung up. Do you know how many times I fell because of it?"

Sha Wujing said, "Leave the chatter. Untie the master first."

Wukong cut the ropes with one stroke of his rod and lowered Tripitaka. He asked, "Where have the monsters gone?"

Tripitaka said, "Those seven all stripped naked and went to call their children in back."

Wukong said, "Brothers, follow me and look for them."

The three of them each took their weapons and searched through the back garden, but found no trace. They searched all the peach and plum trees and still found nothing.

Bajie said, "Gone, gone."

Sha Wujing said, "No need to keep looking. Let me help the master along."

The brothers came back to the front and asked Tripitaka to mount the horse. Bajie said, "You fellows help the master along. Let Old Pig smash this house with one rake stroke and leave them nowhere to live when they come back."

Wukong laughed. "Instead of wasting your strength, why not look for some firewood and give them a clean ending?"

The fool found some rotten pine, broken bamboo, dry willow, and dead vines, lit them with one torch, and in a roaring blaze burned the whole place clean. Only then did master and disciples set out again in peace. But as for that monster nest, what kind of luck or disaster awaited it next, we must wait for the next chapter to tell.