After rescuing the Princess of the Sacred Elephant Kingdom and receiving the grateful honors from her father, the group journeyed onward without rest for many days. They ate only when hunger or thirst overtook them, traveling by daylight and resting when the sun dipped below the horizon.
The Season of Triple Spring
Before long arrived the season known as the Triple Spring, a time when gentle breezes stirred the verdant willows with the softness of silk, and all of nature seemed steeped in poetry.
As master and disciples slowly made their way, savoring the tranquil beauty of the landscape, they came upon a towering mountain that stretched toward the heavens. At the sight of it, Master Tang exclaimed:
“Exert the utmost caution! I fear this great mountain before us may conceal many tigers, wolves, and other ferocious beasts.”
The Woodcutter’s Ominous Warning
While the Tang Monk struggled to steady himself atop his mount, he raised his eyes and saw a woodcutter a few paces ahead.
The woodcutter was chopping logs beside the path when he caught sight of the approaching monk. Setting down his axe, he called out:
“Master, please stop for a moment. I must warn you: this range extends far beyond six hundred miles and is known throughout the land as the Lofty Mountain. Within it lies the Lotus Flower Cave, where two fearsome demons dwell, determined to capture and devour the monk Tang.”
Upon hearing these words, Tripitaka felt his strength drain away, and his spirit seemed to leave his body. Overcome with fear, he could barely remain seated on his horse. Turning at once to his disciples, he asked:
“Did you hear what the woodcutter said about the demons lying in wait ahead? Who among you dares to investigate further?”
They were about to approach the woodcutter when, suddenly, he vanished into thin air. Startled, the Tang Sanzang cried:
“How can this be? How could the man disappear so abruptly?”
Pigsy grumbled:
“What rotten luck! Even in broad daylight, we are already encountering spirits!”
Wukong’s Cunning Plan
Wukong mused to himself:
“If the Master falls into the hands of those demons, I shall have no choice but to expend great energy to rescue him. Perhaps it would be best to send Pigsy ahead first. If he defeats them, the glory shall be his. But if he fails and is captured, I will still have time to save him—and my own triumph will shine all the brighter.”
He turned to Bajie and suggested:
“What do you say to scouting ahead?”
“And what exactly does that entail?” Bajie asked warily.
The Monkey King replied:
“To enter the mountain and discover how many demons hide within. Only then can we plan our passage safely.”
Relieved, Bajie declared:
“That’s nothing to me. Right away, I shall set off to patrol.”
The Lazy Pig
Grasping his robe and wielding his trident, he strode boldly into the mountain.
With a sly smile, Wukong told the Tang Monk:
“I assure you, Bajie will neither scout nor confront any demon. He’ll simply find a quiet place to hide and later return with some tale he’s concocted.”
“How can you say such a thing?” the Master reprimanded.
The Monkey King replied:
“Something tells me that’s exactly what he’ll do. If you don’t believe me, follow him yourself and see. But better yet, let me go. If he should encounter any danger, I can assist him.”
Wukong dashed up the mountain, gave his body a slight shake, and transformed into a tiny hornet. Soon he flew level with Bajie and perched unnoticed on his neck.
After walking seven or eight kilometers, Bajie dropped his heavy trident and began cursing his fate:
“We all seek enlightenment and wish to earn merit by obtaining the sacred scriptures, yet I am the one always forced to sacrifice—sent alone to patrol these mountains. If there really are terrible monsters nearby, we should try to pass unnoticed. But no! Without even asking me, they send me charging after them like some brave hero. Well, enough of this nonsense—I’m going to lie down for a nap. When I wake, I’ll make up some story and be done with it.”
At a bend in the trail, he brushed aside some red grass and lay down flat on the ground.
Wukong’s Humiliating Trick
The Monkey King flew above, determined to spoil his plans. With another slight shake of his body, he transformed into a small woodpecker.
Bajie was already snoring when the bird struck him sharply on the snout with its beak. Yelping, he leapt to his feet:
“A monster! A monster just speared me with its lance! Good heavens, how my face hurts!”
Rubbing his nose with one hand, he discovered it was bleeding. Yet despite the blood staining his fingers, nothing moved around him—the forest remained as still and peaceful as ever.
He cried again:
“How strange! No monster is in sight. If it wasn’t a beast, who else could have jabbed me in the face with a spear?”
Just then, he looked up and spotted a little woodpecker fluttering above the trees. Enraged, he shouted:
“Curse that wretched creature! It’s come to bother me! Now I understand—it must be searching for insects and mistook my face for a tree. Best, then, that I hide my snout in my chest.”
And with that, he lay back down to continue his nap.
But the Monkey King dived once more, striking him hard on the base of the ear. Bajie jumped up, furious:
“You cursed bird! You must have a nest nearby and thought I was here to steal your eggs or young. That’s why you keep attacking me. Fine, fine—I’ll leave.”
Grabbing his trident and abandoning the peace of the grassy glade, he slowly retraced his steps back toward the group.
Exposing Bajie’s Lies
Seeing his predictions coming true, Wukong quickly returned to his master and resumed his usual form.
The Tripitaka observed:
“So you’ve returned. Why is Wu Neng not with you?”
Fighting back a laugh, the Monkey King replied:
“He’ll be here shortly—he’s just taking a bit of time to fabricate a few lies.”
The Monk Tang asked:
“And what kind of lies might those be? I hope this isn’t one of your schemes to make him look foolish.”
Indeed, as Wukong had foreseen, Bajie began weaving falsehoods the moment he returned.
Interrupting him, the Monkey King scolded:
“You lazy good-for-nothing! This is no ordinary place—we sent you to scout for good reason. Yet instead, you went to sleep. If that woodpecker hadn’t pecked your snout, you’d still be snoring away now. And not only that—you invented an entire tale! Don’t you realize you nearly ruined something of great importance? Pull up your robe—I’ll give you five lashes on the legs as a reminder.”
The Monk Sanzang added:
“When Wukong told me you had made up a story, I refused to believe him. But now that the truth has come to light, you truly deserve exemplary punishment. However, we are trying to cross this mountain, and we need every bit of help we can get. So for now, Wukong…”
Turning to the Monkey King, he continued:
“It would be wise to forgive him temporarily. Once we’ve crossed this region, then punish him. Agreed?”
Wukong replied:
“If the Master wishes me not to strike him, I shall hold off—for now. But you must return and scout again, and know this: if you fall asleep or cause trouble again, I shall not reduce the number of blows by even one.”
Bajie’s Paranoid Patrol
Thus, Piggy Bajie had no choice but to rise and set off once more. As he walked, he felt as though Wukong was following him unseen, transformed into some unknown form. Every new sight made him suspect it was the Monkey King.
In this way, he walked another seven or eight kilometers until he encountered a mighty tiger climbing the slope. Remaining calm, he lifted his trident and muttered with irritation:
“Why did you have to follow me to hear my lies? Didn’t I promise to fulfill my duties this time?”
A little farther on, a gust of wind toppled a dry tree, which rolled toward him. The pig complained:
“Why did you do that? Didn’t I say I wouldn’t deceive you again? Why turn into a tree and scare me like that?”
Further along, he saw a white-throated magpie cawing insistently in the sky and cried out once more:
“Don’t you feel ashamed? I told you I wouldn’t lie anymore. Why transform into an old magpie? It’s incomprehensible how eager you are to eavesdrop on everything I say.”
This time, however, Wukong did not follow. All of it was merely the product of Bajie’s imagination and suspicion, and his guilt-ridden mind..
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