Seeing how easily Bajie had fallen into the monster’s clutches, the Monkey King couldn’t help but think: “That beast is truly extraordinary. I should inform the Master of everything that has happened, but I’m afraid the king would only mock me. It’s better if I confront that monster again. Unfortunately, I have no helper…
Early the next morning, Tang Monk and his two disciples brought the captured spirits before the king.
Tripitaka said: “When I left Chang’an, I vowed in the Hall of the Dharma Gates that I would not pass by a temple without burning incense, nor a monastery without paying homage to Buddha, nor a pagoda without sweeping its courtyard or stairs.”
Tang Sanzang and Sha Monk waited restlessly for Wukong’s return, pacing like caged animals by the roadside.
Though realizing he’d been tricked, Wukong refused to lose heart. Undeterred by the fake fan, Wukong devised a new plan:Since the Demoness won’t surrender the fan willingly, I’ll disguise myself as her husband, the Bull Demon King, to deceive her. That way, I’ll seize the true fan without further battle.
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.