In gratitude for vanquishing the monsters and recovering the Buddha’s relics, the king of the Kingdom of Sacrifice wished to present Tripitaka and his companions with a great amount of gold and jade, which they politely declined.
Surrounded by all his officials, both civil and military, the monks of the Golden Light Monastery, and nearly all the inhabitants of the capital, they came out to bid them farewell at the city outskirts amidst a great clamor of voices and music.
The master and his disciples continued their journey westward.
Winter was about to end, and the approach of spring could already be felt. It was the best time for travel, as the cold had lost its bite, and it was still far too early for the heat to turn into oppressive swelter.
The Brambled Path
In the distance, they saw the peaks of a very high mountain range, over which the path they were following wound painfully. Tripitaka immediately pulled on the reins of his horse and noticed, surprised, that the trail was buried beneath a thick cover of brambles, vines, and ivy.
As they advanced further, the journey became increasingly arduous, because the thorny undergrowth had overtaken the path, and its sharp spines mercilessly pierced the legs of the travelers.
“There’s no way we can continue on this road!” exclaimed the Tang Monk, discouraged.
Sun Wukong replied:
“Don’t worry. The best thing to do is for me to go take a look.”
With a tremendous leap, he soared high into the sky. But discouraged, he descended from the cloud and told the master:
“I’m afraid this mountain range is enormous.”
“How long do you think it is?” asked Tripitaka.
Wukong replied:
“I don’t know exactly, because I couldn’t see the end of it. Still, I’d estimate it to be around a thousand miles long.”
“What are we going to do?” cried the Tang Monk in terror.
Sha Wujing said with a smile:
“Please don’t worry so much, Master. Why not set fire to all these brambles and continue our journey peacefully? Farmers do it in many regions.”
Bajie advised:
“Stop talking nonsense, please. That can only be done around the tenth month, when everything is completely dry. How can they burn now, when everything is green and lush?”
“Besides,” added the Monkey King, “there would be no way to control the flames.”
Bajie Clears the Way
“How then shall we proceed forward?” Tang Sanzang repeated.
Bajie replied, laughing:
“There’s nothing easier. Watch what I do.”
After twisting his fingers in an extraordinary way and chanting the appropriate spell, Bajie shouted:
“Grow!”
Instantly, he grew to a height of sixty meters. Then he shook his rake and added:
“Transform!”
Amazingly, it stretched like a snake and soon reached a length exceeding ninety meters.
He gripped it firmly with both hands and, planting it into the earth, began pulling it along like an ox plowing a field. In this way, he managed to clear a completely open path free of brambles, wide enough for an entire army to pass through.
“Come on, what are you waiting for? Follow me!” he shouted, turning toward the master.
Smiling, Tang Sanzang spurred his horse and entered this unexpected road, followed by Sha Wujing and the Monkey King.
The Ancient Shrine
They did not stop once all day, covering a distance of more than a hundred miles. As night fell, they arrived at a clearing where an old sanctuary stood.
At its entrance, pines and cedars vied with each other in lush greenery, while peach and plum trees competed to show off their beauty. Tripitaka dismounted and stood entranced before the scene that lay before his eyes.
The Monkey King carefully scanned every corner of the unexpected place and said:
“I have the feeling that something truly evil is hiding here. If you follow my advice, we should continue on our way as soon as possible.”
Sha Wujing replied:
“Why so suspicious? There are no signs of either humans or beasts. Since when have you been frightened by silence?”
Deception and Abduction
He had barely finished speaking when a cold wind rose, and from the door of the shrine emerged an old man wearing a headscarf. He wore a simple tunic, matching straw sandals on his feet and a rough staff in one hand.
Approaching the pilgrims, the old man knelt and said:
“Great Sage. This unworthy servant is the spirit of the Bramble Mountain Range(Brambles Ridge). Your arrival has taken me by surprise, and I could only prepare this tray of steamed pastries for you. Accept them as a token of goodwill, and invite your companions to taste their humble flavor. They will help relieve your hunger, for, as you well know, there is not a single house within eight hundred miles.”
Bajie ran toward him and stretched out his hand to grab a pastry, but the Monkey King, who had been observing the old man closely with his fiery diamond eyes while he spoke, stopped him, saying:
“Don’t do it! Can’t you tell this is an evil being?”
Turning to the old man, he added:
“What kind of spirit are you, trying to deceive me?”
He rushed forward, wielding his iron rod.
Seeing the blow coming, the old man twisted in a strange way and transformed into a gust of cold wind that snatched away the Tang Monk, making him vanish in the blink of an eye.
The Monkey King was so stunned that he didn’t know where to begin searching for his master. Overcome with panic, Bajie and Sha Wujing searched frantically and futilely around. Even the white horse neighed in terror.
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