The Monkey King struggled desperately to escape the raging tempest, yet could not even brush the ground.
The wind tossed him about like a speck of dust, upending him as easily as a typhoon strips trees bare or a torrent sweeps away withered blossoms.
He tumbled violently through the night until dawn, when he finally clung to a mountain peak, freeing himself from the hurricane’s tyranny. As the gale subsided, he collapsed to rest—only to realize he had landed on Little Sumeru Mountain.
Sighing deeply, Wukong exclaimed:
“What an extraordinary woman! How she hurled me so far! Years ago, I sought Bodhisattva Lingji’s aid here to subdue the Yellow Wind Demon who kidnapped my master. That ridge lies over 3,000 miles north. This means I’ve been flung tens of thousands of miles southeast! Best to consult Lingji for the swiftest return to my master.”
Bodhisattva Lingji’s aid
Recognizing Wukong, Lingji Bodhisattva rushed from his throne to greet him:
“Congratulations on your triumph! Surely you’ve obtained the scriptures?”
“Not yet,” replied Wukong. “Too soon for that.”
“Then what brings you back to my humble abode?”
“We’ve endured countless trials since you helped capture the Yellow Wind Demon. Now, we’re stranded near Fiery Mountain(the Flame Mountain). Locals claim only the Iron Fan Immortal can quench the flames. But she loathes me, blaming my role in her son Red Boy’s service under Guanyin. She refused the fan and attacked. When her swords failed, she unleashed her treasure—a single flick hurled me here. I beg your guidance to return swiftly. How far is the Flame Mountain?”
Lingji laughed:
“That woman—the Iron Fan Princess, or Demoness—wields a fan whose gale hurls victims 84,000 miles. My mountain lies 50,000 miles from hers. Only your cloud-riding skill spared you!”
“Marvelous!” cried Wukong. “Is there a counter? My master must move on!”
“Calm yourself, Great Sage,” said Lingji. “Years ago, Tathagata gifted me the Flying Dragon Staff and Wind-Stopping Elixir. The staff subdued the demon; take the elixir now—it may neutralize the fan’s power.”
Return to Plantain Cave
Wukong bowed in gratitude, then soared back to Jade Cloud Mountain. He hammered the cave’s gates with his rod, shouting:
“Open up! I’ve come for the fan!”
The gatekeeper rushed to her mistress:
“That monk demands the fan again!”
The Demoness gasped:
“My fan flings victims 84,000 miles—how did he return so fast? This time, I’ll fan him thrice! Let’s see him escape!”
Storming out, she sneered:
“Sun Wukong! Have you no fear of death?”
Smiling, the Monkey King retorted:
“Don’t be stingy—lend me the fan! I honor my debts. What’s there to fear?”
The Demoness shouted furiously:
“You’re nothing but a shameless ape! How dare you think I’d lend my fan before avenging my son? Don’t flee—taste my swords!”
Wukong, of course, didn’t retreat an inch. Raising his iron rod, he deflected her savage strikes. After seven or eight clashes, the Demoness’ arms began to falter, while the Monkey King showed no sign of fatigue.
Wind-Stopping Elixir
Sensing defeat, she whipped out the fan and swung it fiercely toward her foe.
Yet the Monkey King stood unmoved. Confidently setting aside his rod, he smirked:
“Don’t expect a repeat of last time. Fan all you want—you won’t budge me an inch!”
Bewildered, the Demoness swung the fan twice more, but he stood rooted like the mountain beneath him. Panicking, she stashed the fan and fled into the cave, slamming the gates shut.
The Stomach Gambit
Wukong shrank into a tiny cricket and slipped through a crack in the door. Inside, the exhausted Demoness ordered a maid:
“Bring me tea—I’m parched!”
The maid swiftly poured fragrant tea into a cup. In a flash, the Monkey King dove into the brew. The Demoness gulped it down in two swallows.
Soon, Wukong bellowed from her stomach:
“Will you lend the fan now?!”
“Did you lock the gates?” the Demoness cried to her maids.
“Yes, mistress!” they replied, bewildered.
“Then why does the Monkey King’s voice echo here?”
“It… seems to come from inside you!” stammered a maid.
“Stop your tricks, Sun Wukong!” the Demoness paled.
Wukong scoffed:
“No tricks—just genuine power! I’m having a grand time in here. As the saying goes, I see through your eyes. I sense your thirst—let me quench it!”
He stomped inside her gut. The Demoness writhed on the floor, howling like a worm.
“You must be hungry too. Enjoy this snack!” he taunted.
Leaping upward, he headbutted her stomach’s ceiling. The Demoness clutched her chest, face sallow and lips white.
“Spare me, I beg you!” she screamed, thrashing in dust.
Wukong chuckled:
“Very well—for Bull Demon King’s sake, I’ll spare you. Now hand over the fan.”
“Take it! Just come out!” she pleaded.
The Demoness opened her mouth. Wukong, still a cricket, sprang out and resumed his true form.
“Thank you for the loan,” he said, bowing mockingly.
Then he strode toward the cave’s gates.
Wukong was deceived
Satisfied, Wukong mounted a cloud and sped eastward. In the blink of an eye, he reached the village. Seeing him descend, Bajie shouted enthusiastically:
“Master! Wukong’s back!”
Tripitaka hurried out to greet him, trailed by the old villager and Sha Monk.
Wukong produced the fan and asked the old man:
“Is this the one you spoke of?”
“Without a doubt!” the old man confirmed in awe.
After bidding farewell to the old man, they resumed their westward journey.
Forty miles later, the heat became unbearable.
“My feet are scorching!” cried Sha Wujing, terrified.
“I can’t endure this!” groaned Bajie.
Wukong addressed Tripitaka:
“Dismount and stay still. I’ll extinguish the flames with the fan. Once wind and rain cool the earth, we’ll cross this mountain.”
Seizing the fan, Wukong swung it forcefully. Instantly, a tempest arose—only to fan the flames higher. He waved it again, and the fire blazed a hundred times fiercer, lunging hungrily toward the Monkey King.
Panicked, he desperately rushed back to Tang Monk, shouting:
“Retreat! The flames pursue us!”
The master scrambled onto his horse, galloping west with Bajie and Sha Monk in frantic tow. They fled twenty miles before daring to rest.
“What happened, Wukong?” Tripitaka gasped, wiping sweat.
Flinging the false fan in rage, the Monkey King roared:
“Disaster! That demoness deceived me! This fan is a counterfeit!”
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