After leaving the Black Rooster Kingdom, the pilgrims traveled by day and rested by night.
About half a month had passed when they came upon a mountain so high it truly touched the clouds and cast shadows over the sun itself. Tripitaka felt deeply discouraged and stopped his horse, calling for Wukong.
“Have you seen that enormous mountain rising before us? You must be extremely cautious, for I wouldn’t be surprised if some evil creature lived there, determined to stop us on our journey.”
The Monkey King replied:
“It may well be. But do not worry—just keep walking. I’ve already prepared a plan for our defense.”
A few steps ahead, they saw a red cloud rise into the air, condense halfway up, and take the shape of a fireball. Alarmed, the Monkey King ran toward the Tang Monk, grabbed his leg, and quickly pulled him off his horse, shouting:
“Stop! A monster is approaching!”
The monster made the red light dissolve into the air and hid behind a rocky bend further ahead. With a slight shake of its body, it transformed into a frightened, naked child of about seven years old, hanging from the top of a pine tree.
The demon disguised as a terrified little boy dressed in red — Red Boy — the Great Saint Child King
“Help! Help!” he cried out in distress.
The deeper they ventured into the mountain, the closer they heard the cries of “Help! Help!”
“Who could be crying out like this in such an uninhabited place?” asked the Master his disciples.
“Keep walking and don’t worry about it,” urged the Monkey King. “It’s natural to hear all sorts of sounds in a place like this. Only Heaven knows how many different beasts live in these mountains.”
The monk had to admit he had a point. But barely had they walked another half kilometer when they heard someone cry out again:
“Help! Help!”
Again the Tang Monk said:
“These cries echo like those of a human, not a monster. Listen carefully—you’ll see. It must surely be a man in trouble. We should hurry to help him.”
The Monkey King advised:
“For today at least, better set aside your compassion. You can return to it once we’ve left this mountain behind. Better not to pay attention—it’s dangerous here.”
Once more, the Master had to agree and urged his horse forward.
Meanwhile, the monster continued to cry for help, but no one came to rescue him. This made him think:
“A moment ago, the Tang Monk was less than three miles away. How is it possible that he hasn’t arrived yet, after all this time I’ve been waiting? Could they have taken another path? I must change tactics immediately.”
As soon as he stepped onto the ground, he transformed back into the same young boy and hung once more from the top of a pine tree. This time, however, he did so less than half a mile from where the Tang Monk was.
Shortly afterward, the Tang Monk heard someone cry out again:
“For the love of Heaven, Master, help me!”
Startled, the Tang Monk looked up and saw a completely naked child hanging from a tree.
Deeply moved, he turned to the Monkey King and scolded him:
“You heartless brute! Not a shred of kindness in you! All you think about is causing me trouble and destroying every life you come across. I told you someone needed our help, but you insisted it was a monster. Look well now! What is that hanging up there—a beast or a person?”
Sun Wukong dared not reply.
The Tang Monk approached the tree and asked the monster:
“To which family do you belong, and why are you hanging there? If you don’t tell me, I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you.”
The child wept harder and answered with a trembling voice:
“West of this mountain flows the Dry Pine Creek, beside which lies the village where my family lives. Bandits attacked us. They killed my father and stole everything we owned. I’ve been tied here for three days. Please, save me!”
Tripitaka believed the boy’s story and ordered Bajie to untie him. The pig could not recognize the child as a demon, so he took out his knife and cut the monster free.
Still sobbing, the creature turned to the Tang Monk and began pounding the ground with his forehead in gratitude.
The Master then commanded the Monkey King:
“Wukong, please carry this frightened child.”
The Monkey King smiled and agreed:
“All right, all right! I’ll carry him.”
Wukong noticed the child weighed almost nothing—barely two kilograms. He muttered under his breath:
“What recklessness! You deserved to die right then and there. Who told you you could mock me so easily? Did you really think I wouldn’t detect that special something about you?”
The demon disguised as a child responded:
“I come from a good family and have simply met with the worst of misfortunes. What do you mean by ‘something special’?”
The Monkey King replied:
“How is it that your body is so light?”
“I’m only seven years old,” the monster defended himself.
The Monkey King calculated:
“If you had gained just half a kilo a year, you should weigh at least three and a half kilograms by now—and truthfully, you don’t even reach half that.”
The monster explained:
“What do I know? Maybe I didn’t drink enough milk when I was little.”
As the Monkey King walked with the monster on his back, he began planning to kill him.
The monster immediately sensed the Monkey King’s thoughts and decided to use magic. He inhaled four breaths of air—one from each cardinal direction—and exhaled them onto the Monkey’s neck. At once, the Monkey King felt as though ten thousand kilograms had been placed upon him.
Then, the monster released himself from the body he had taken and rose into the air. Soon after, a violent wind began to blow, carrying rocks and hurling tons of sand and dust into the clouds.
Tripitaka could barely stay on his horse. Bajie saw him swaying dangerously on the saddle but had to close his eyes almost immediately to protect them from the flying sand. The same happened to Sha Monk. Only Sun Wukong realized it was some trick of the monster. But by the time he reached his master’s side, the beast had already carried him away deep into the mountain.
The Tang Monk had vanished without a trace.
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