Tripitaka rode his horse with Wukong leading the way; they journeyed by day and rested by night, taking food and drink according to their needs. Soon it was early winter.
They had traveled for some time. Suddenly, a whistle echoed from the roadside as six men armed with spears, swords, and bows leaped into their path. Blocking the trail, they shouted:
“Halt, monk! Dismount and surrender all your belongings if you wish to pass!”
Sanzang, petrified, fell from his horse, speechless. Sun Wukong helped him up, saying cheerfully:
“Fear not, Master. These men have come to offer us clothing and travel funds.”
“Are you deaf?” Tripitaka cried. “They demand our horse and possessions! How is this aid?”
“Stay here and guard our things,” the Monkey King instructed. “I’ll parley with them.”
Tripitaka protested: “Six brutes against your frail form? How will you confront them?”
Monkey King Slays the Six Bandits
Wukong approached the bandits, arms folded. “Noble sirs, why hinder a poor monk?”
“We are famed mountain lords!” one declared. “Surrender your goods, or we’ll mince you!”
Wukong laughed. “I ruled a mountain for centuries, yet never heard of you.”
“So you really don’t know!” one of them said. “Let’s tell you then: one of us is named Eye That Sees and Delights; another, Ear That Hears and Rages; another Nose That Smells and Loves; another, Tongue That Tastes and Desires; another, Mind That Perceives and Covets; and another, Body That Bears and Suffers.”
“You’re the six thieves blind to your master,” Wukong retorted. “How dare you block my way? Take out everything you have stolen and divide it into seven equal parts, if you want to stay alive.”
The bandits shouted:”Damned monk! You offer us nothing yet demand a share of our plunder!”
Brandishing spears and swords, they surrounded Wukong and struck his head seventy or eighty blows. But the Monkey King remained utterly unfazed.
Then Wukong said:”Your vigorous exercise seems to be tiring you. Time for me to take out the needle and amuse myself with you.”
One bandit retorted sarcastically: “This monk must’ve been transformed by a physician. We’re not ill—why would we need acupuncture and moxibustion?”
Plucking the tiny pin from his ear, he shook it into an iron rod. The bandits scattered, but Pilgrim chased them down, slaughtering all and seizing their clothes and valuables.
Monkey King was expelled
“What you’ve done is utterly reprehensible,” Tripitaka rebuked.
“You had no right to judge and execute them as you did. Why slaughter them all? You should have simply driven them off. How can you call yourself a monk while wantonly killing without justification?”
“But Master,” protested Wukong, bewildered,
“Had I not killed them, they would have ended us.”
Tripitaka countered:
“If even after embracing Buddhist teachings, you persist in violence and slaughter as before, you’re unworthy of being a monk or accompanying me to the Western Paradise. You remain but a wicked fiend.”
Unaccustomed to reprimands, the Monkey King’s patience shattered. He snapped irritably:
“Fine! If I’m unfit to be a monk or journey with you, I’ll leave this instant! Enough of your scolding!”
The Dragon King’s Counsel
Soon, Wukong arrived at the Eastern Ocean. Upon learning of his arrival, the Dragon King personally came to welcome him. The Monkey King explained his recent circumstances. The Dragon King urged him to persist in the westward journey:
“If you don’t diligently protect the Tang Monk now, refuse discipline, and cling to comfort, you’ll remain a demon—never attaining true enlightenment.”
Emboldened, the Dragon King added:
“This decision rests solely with you, Great Sage. But only fools trade eternity for fleeting ease.”
The Monkey King accepted this counsel. Wukong promptly prepared to depart. After bidding the Dragon King farewell, he mounted a cloud and soared skyward.
Yet unbeknownst to him, Guanyin Bodhisattva had already visited the Tang Monk and devised a stratagem to address his conduct.
Guanyin and Tripitaka’s Plan
The Tang Monk asked:
“Where have you been?”
“I merely visited the Eastern Ocean to beg some tea from my old friend the Dragon King,” replied Wukong.
“Master, if you’re hungry, I’ll fetch food at once.”
“No need to beg,” said Master Sanzang.
“I still have provisions in my bag. Fetch me water instead.”
Wukong untied the bag and found a few rice cakes, which he promptly handed to his master. Noticing the faint gleam of a silk robe and a gold-inlaid crown, he inquired curiously:
“Did you bring these from the Eastern Lands?”
Sanzang answered without hesitation:
“I wore them as a child. Whoever dons these can recite sutras unlearned and perform rites unstudied.”
The Monkey King exclaimed eagerly:
“Then let me wear them now!”
Wukong’s Deception
The Monkey King donned the silk robe—tailored as if for him—and the crown. When Tripitaka saw it fitted on his head, he ceased eating and began murmuring an incantation.
“Oh, my head!” cried the Monkey King.
“The pain is unbearable! I can’t endure it!”
As the monk repeated the spell, agony drove Wukong to writhe on the ground, clawing futilely at the crown. Tripitaka halted the chant, and the pain vanished instantly. The Monkey King touched his head, finding the metal fillet fused into his flesh like rooted iron. All attempts to remove it failed.
The Band-Tightening Spell
The Monkey King demanded:
“Who taught you this Band-Tightening curse?”
“An old woman,” said Tripitaka.
“No need to explain further,” growled Wukong irritably.
“That was Guanyin Bodhisattva! But why inflict such torment? I’ll confront her in the Southern Seas!”
“Reflect,” cautioned Tang Sanzang.
“She knows this spell’s power. Do you not grasp I could kill you by chanting it thrice?”
The Monkey King conceded defeat. Kneeling, he vowed:
“I’ve no choice but to follow you westward. The Bodhisattva’s method to curb me is peerless. I swear not to trouble her—but you must never chant that spell again. I’ll follow willingly and never desert you.”
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