Wu Cheng-en - Journey to the West (vol. 1)

The king walked shakily over to him, raised him to his feet, and said, “Thank goodness you warned me about them beforehand, venerable sir. Otherwise I would undoubtedly have died of shock at the sight of them.” When the king had taken some time to calm himself down he asked Pig and Friar Sand which of the two of them was better at subduing fiends.

“I am,” said the shameless idiot.

“How do you do it, pray?” the king asked.

“I am Marshal Tian Peng,” Pig replied, “and I was exiled to this mortal world for offending against part of the Heavenly Code. Happily I have now returned to the truth and become a monk. I am the best fiend-subduer of all of us who have come here from the East.”

“If you are a heavenly general turned mortal,” said the king, “you must be good at transformations.”

“I wouldn't say that much,” Pig replied, “but I can do one or two.”

“Show me one,” said the king.

“Tell me what you want me to turn into,” said Pig. “Turn into a giant, then,” said the king.

Pig, who could do thirty-six transformations, now showed off his powers before the steps of the throne. Clenching his fist and reciting the words of the spell he shouted “Grow!” bowed forward, and grew eighty or ninety feet tall. He looked like one of the paper gods carried at the head of funeral processions. The civil and military officials trembled with fright; monarch and subjects alike gazed at him in stupefaction.

Then the General Guarding the Palace said, “You have certainly grown very tall, venerable sir. How much taller could you grow before you had to stop?”

“It depends on the wind,” replied the idiot, talking in his idiotic way. “I can manage quite well in an East or a West wind, and if a South wind blows up I can make a big dent in the sky.”

“Then give your magic powers a rest,” said the king, more frightened than ever. “We are sure you can do that.” Pig contracted himself to his real size and stood in attendance at the foot of the steps once more.

“What weapon will you use to fight the monster on this mission?” the king asked. Pig pulled his rake from his belt and said, “This rake.”

“But that would disgrace us,” said the king with a smile. “Here we have steel whips, maces, claws on chains, war-hammers, cutlasses, halberds, pole-axes, battle-axes, swords, bills, spears, and battle-scythes. Choose one that suits you-that rake doesn't count as a real weapon.”

“What Your Majesty doesn't realize,” Pig replied, “is that although it's crude I've carried it around with me since I was a child. I depended on it completely when I commanded eighty thousand sailors and marines as marshal of the Milky Way, the Heavenly River. Down in this world as my master's escort I've used it to smash the dens of tigers and wolves in the mountains and to turn the nests of dragons and leviathans upside-down in rivers.”

The king was thoroughly delighted and convinced on hearing this, so he ordered nine of his Royal Consorts to fetch a bottle of his own royal wine with which to send the venerable Pig off; then he filled a goblet and presented it to Pig with the words, “May this cup of wine, venerable father, express my gratitude for the service you are going to render. When you capture the evil monster and bring back my daughter you will be rewarded with a state banquet and a thousand pieces of gold.” For all his coarseness the idiot accepted it with style.

“Master,” he said to Sanzang after chanting a “na-a-aw” of respect, “you should drink this wine first, but His Majesty gave it to me and I dare not disobey him. Please allow me to drink first as it will brace my spirits for the capture of the monster.”

He drained the cup in one gulp, refilled it, and handed it to Sanzang, who said, “As I cannot touch alcohol you two must drink it for me.” Friar Sand came over and took it. Clouds now sprouted under Pig's feet and he shot up into mid-air.

“Venerable Pig,” exclaimed the king, “you can walk on clouds too!”

When Pig had gone Friar Sand drained his cup of wine at one draft too and said, “When the Yellow-robed Monster captured you, master, the pair of us were only just a match for him in combat. I'm afraid that my elder brother won't be able to beat him by himself.”

“Yes,” Sanzang replied. “You'd better go and help him.”

When Friar Sand too sprang up into the air on a cloud and went off, the anxious king grabbed hold of Sanzang and said, “Stay here with me, venerable sir. Don't you go flying off on a cloud too.”

“I, alas, cannot take a single step by cloud.” We leave the two of them talking to each other in the palace.

“I'm here, brother,” said Friar Sand as he caught Pig up.

“Why?” Pig asked. “The master told me to come and lend you a hand,” replied Friar Sand.

“Good, it's as well you've come. We two'll do our damndest and capture this fiend. Even though it won't be anything very big, it'll at least make us famous in this country.”

On shimmering clouds they left the country,

Departing from the capital in a blaze of magic light.

On the king's command they came to the mountain cave

To fight hard side by side to capture the evil spirit.

Before long they reached the mouth of the cave and landed their cloud. Pig brought his rake down with all his might on the door of the cave and made a hole the size of a bucket in it. The junior demons guarding it were so frightened that they opened up the gates; at the sight of the pair of them they rushed inside to report, “Bad news, Your Majesty. The long-snouted monk with big ears and the other one with a horrible face have come back and smashed down our doors.”

“Pig and Friar Sand again?” exclaimed the monster in astonishment. “How dare they come and break down my door after I've spared their master's life?”

“Perhaps they've come to fetch something they left behind,” suggested a junior demon.

“Nonsense,” snorted the monster. “Would they break the gate down if they'd just left something behind?” He hastily tied on his armor, took his steel sword, went outside and asked, “Monks, what do you mean by smashing down my door? I spared your master, didn't I?”

“Will you do a decent thing, wretched ogre?” said Pig.

“What?” asked the old monster.

“You forced the Third Princess of the land of Elephantia to come to your cave,” said Pig, “and you've made her stay here for thirteen years. You should send her back now. We've come here to capture you on the king's orders, so you'd better hurry in and tie yourself up if you don't want me to hit you.” The old fiend was now furious. Just watch him as he gnashes his fangs of steel, glares so hard that his eyes become round with fury, raises his sword, and hacks at Pig's head. Pig avoided the blow and struck back at the monster's face with his rake, after which Friar Sand rushed forward to join in the fight with his staff. This battle on the mountain was not the same as the earlier one:

Saying the wrong things can make men angry;

Wicked intentions and hurt feelings give birth to wrath.

The great steel sword of the demon king

Sliced down at the head;

Pig's nine-toothed rake

Went for the face.

As Friar Sand let fly with his staff

The demon king parried with his magic weapon.

One wild ogre,

Two holy monks,

Moving to and fro with the greatest of calm.

One says,

“You deserve to die for your crime against the country.”

The other replies,

“Interfering fellow, trying to put the world to rights.”

“By seizing the princess you have insulted the state,” said the one.

“Just mind your own business,” said the other.

It was all because of the letter,