Both the master and his disciples gazed in awe at the natural scenery, carelessly letting pass the Dragon Boat Festival without any celebration.
They came across yet another towering mountain blocking their path.
The terrain was so steep that for a long time the four pilgrims were forced to move forward at an exasperatingly slow pace.
After crossing the summit, they began descending along the western slope and soon reached a flat stretch of land.
Hunger and Restlessness
Eager to show off his strength, Zhu Bajie asked Sha Wujing to carry the luggage and ran toward the horse with his rake raised high above his head as if to attack. Clearly, he was only trying to scare it, but the horse didn’t even react. Despite Bajie’s shouts and gestures, the animal continued walking at its usual unhurried pace.
“Why do you want to frighten it? Let it walk at its own speed,” scolded the Monkey King.
Bajie stopped his antics and said:
“It’s getting late, and we haven’t rested all day. Climbing mountain after mountain makes me really hungry. Why don’t we go faster and see if there’s a house nearby where we can ask for something to eat?”
“In that case, wait while I teach it to go fast,” replied the Monkey King. He waved his iron bar and let out a shout.
Startled, the horse bolted forward like an arrow. More than five hundred years ago, the Monkey King had been the celestial stable master; no wonder horses always feared the Monkey.
Tang Monk tugged at the reins but couldn’t control the horse. He had no choice but to hold tightly onto the saddle and let the horse gallop freely. In this way, they covered about twenty miles.
Bandit Ambush
Suddenly, a gong clanged, and a group of more than thirty armed bandits appeared, wielding spears, sabers, clubs, and bars. They blocked the road, shouting:
“Stay where you are, monk!”
Tang Monk was so frightened that he lost control of the horse and fell to the ground. Crawling as best he could to some bushes, he trembled from head to toe as he pleaded:
“Please don’t harm me, great lords! Spare my life, I beg you!”
Two extraordinarily strong men, who seemed to be leading the group, replied:
“All right. But you must hand over all the money you have.”
Only then did Tang Sanzang realize they were bandits.
Realizing they would not listen to reason, Tripitaka had no choice but to stand up. He joined his palms and said:
“Humble monk that I am, great lords, I am an envoy of the Emperor of the Tangs from the Eastern Lands, traveling westward to the Western Paradise in search of sacred scriptures. Many years have passed since I left Chang-An City. That explains why, even if I had departed with full pockets, I now have not a single coin left. The truth is that those of us who have renounced worldly life live on alms received along the way. Where would I get the money you are asking for? Be merciful to this poor monk and let me pass.”
Approaching him, the two bandit leaders asked:
“What do you mean by ‘be merciful’? We lie in wait here solely to strip travelers of anything valuable. If you have no money, we’ll take your robes and your horse instead. Only then will we allow you to continue.”
“Amitabha!” exclaimed Tripitaka in shock.
“The robe I wear was sewn from cotton and needles given to me in charity by countless families, one after another. If I lose it, I shall be punished in the next life.”
Enraged by this remark, one of the bandits grabbed a stick and turned toward the master with the intention of beating him.
Tripitaka had never told a single lie in his entire life. Faced with such a desperate situation, he had no choice but to say:
“Please, don’t hit me anymore! Behind me comes a disciple carrying silver ingots. When he arrives, I’ll gladly give them to you.”
“This monk can’t even endure pain,” mocked one of the bandits.
“Bind him.”
Without delay, two of the men tied the master with a rope and hung him from a tree.
Tang Monk talked his way out
The three disciples had gone chasing after the horse and arrived shortly afterward.
Suddenly, he saw the master hanging from a tree in the distance.
Amused, he exclaimed:
“Look! There he is! He has climbed up a tree and started swinging. What a sense of humor he has!”
The Monkey King scolded him:
“Stop talking nonsense, Idiot! It seems to me he’s actually tied to a branch. Stay here while I go check things out.”
Shaking his body slightly, the Monkey transformed into a young monk and hurried to where the master was hanging. He shouted loudly:
“Who are these evil men? Why won’t you tell me what happened?”
“Why so many questions? Aren’t you going to rescue me?” replied Tripitaka.
“Just what are these guys doing?” insisted Wukong.
Tripitaka answered:
“They are highway robbers. They stop travelers and steal every bit of money they carry. Since I have nothing, they tied me up and hung me on this tree, waiting for you to appear before finally settling the matter. If we fail to convince them, we’ll have to give them the horse.”
Hearing this, the Monkey King exclaimed with a smile:
“How cowardly you are! There are many monks in the world, but none as timid as you. Taizong, the Great Emperor of the Tangs, sent you to the Western Paradise to meet Buddha. Besides, your horse is actually a dragon. Who gave you permission to give it away?”
Tripitaka replied:
“You see how I’ve been bound. What can I do if they decide to beat me?
“Anyway, what exactly did you tell them?” concluded the Monkey King.
Tripitaka answered:
“I had no choice but to speak of you. What else could I do? They were threatening to beat me.”
The Monkey King exclaimed:
“How little resistance you showed! What exactly did you tell them about me?”
“I told them you were the one carrying the money. I had to do it to stop them from hitting me. It was just to get through the moment,” responded Tripitaka.
The Iron Rod’s Might
Seeing him speaking with the master, the bandits surrounded them and said:
“Your master has just confessed to us that it’s you who carries the money. Hand it over willingly, and we’ll spare your lives. Otherwise, we’ll kill you before you can even say ‘this mouth is mine.’”
Removing the cloth bag he carried over his shoulder, the Monkey King exclaimed:
“Why all the fuss? All our money is right here, although I should warn you it’s not much—about twenty catties of gold and nearly thirty silver ingots. I haven’t kept track of the rest of the coins. What you’re demanding is something utterly insignificant. Take the whole bag, if you wish. All I ask is that you don’t mistreat my master. For those of us who have renounced worldly life, there are always places to beg. How much can people like us spend? All I want is for you to release my master. That alone will satisfy me.”
“The old monk is a bit stingy. Fortunately, the young one is generous,” the bandits remarked happily upon hearing these words.
“Release him immediately!” ordered one of the bandit leaders.
As soon as he felt free, Tripitaka mounted the horse and, without sparing Wukong a single glance, hurried away down the road he had come from, whip in hand.
Rubbing his ear, the Monkey King showed them a small sewing needle. Smiling all the while, he said:
“I am a humble monk who has renounced worldly life—I never carry money. I only possess this tiny needle, which I’d be happy to give you as a gift.”
A bandit exclaimed:
“What bad luck we’ve had! We let a rich monk escape and are left with a poor one. Do you know tailoring? What use do I have for a needle?”
Upon hearing that he didn’t want it, Wukong merely shook it once, and it transformed into a rod as thick as a rice bowl.
Surprised, the bandit commented:
“Even though he’s young, this monk is clearly a magician.”
The Monkey King planted the rod in the ground and said:
“I’ll give it to whoever can lift it.”
The two bandits immediately stepped forward and tried to move it, but their efforts proved as futile as a dragonfly trying to shift a stone pillar.
The Monkey King said:
“The best thing you can do is start running, because you’ve met the Monkey King.”
One of the bandits approached him and, raising his knotted staff, rained seven or eight blows down on the Monkey’s head, but the Monkey stood as if nothing had happened.
Mockingly, the Monkey King said:
“Your hands must be very tired. I think it’s my turn now to give you a little tap with my rod. Don’t worry, though—I won’t use my full strength.”
With it, he struck the bandit lightly, leaving him lying face-down on the ground.
The Monkey King laughed and said:
“Don’t worry. There’s enough for everyone. I’ll hit each of you one by one. I want to make sure not a single one of you remains.”
Swinging the rod again, he struck the other leader, shattering him as if he had never existed.
Seeing this, the remaining bandits dropped their weapons and fled in terror in all directions.
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