Seeing that his intentions were indeed good and that he really was now a Buddhist, Sanzang asked him what was his surname.

“My surname's Sun,” replied the Monkey King.

“I'll give you a Buddhist name that I can call you by,” said Sanzang.

“There's no need to trouble yourself,” said the Monkey King, “I've already got one: Sun Wukong-Monkey Awakened to Emptiness.”

“That's just right for our sect,” exclaimed the monk. “As you look so much like a young novice, I'll give you another name and call you Brother Monkey. Is that all right?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” said Sun Wukong, and from then on he was also called Brother Monkey, or Sun the Novice.

When he saw that Brother Monkey was determined to go, the high warden turned to Sanzang, chanted a noise of respect and said, “It's splendid that you have got so good a disciple, venerable sir. He'll certainly make the journey. I must now take my leave.”

Sanzang bowed to him in thanks, saying, “I have brought you a long way, and am deeply indebted to you. When you return home please convey my respects to your venerable mother and your wife; I caused them a lot of trouble, and hope that I shall be able to come and thank them on my return.” Boqin returned his bow, and with that they parted.

Brother Monkey asked Sanzang to mount the horse while he ambled ahead, stark naked, carrying the luggage on his back. Before long they were over the Double Boundary Mountain.

Suddenly a ferocious tiger rushed at them, roaring and lashing about with its tail. Sanzang on his horse was terrified. Brother Monkey, who was standing beside the path, put down the luggage and said happily, “Don't be scared, master, it's just bringing me my clothes.” He pulled a needle out of his ear and shook it in the wind, turning it into an iron cudgel as thick as a bowl.

“I haven't used this little treasure in over five hundred years,” he said, holding it in his hand. “Today I'm bringing it out to get myself some clothes to wear.”

Just watch as he rushes at the tiger, shouting, “Where d'you think you're going, wretch?” The tiger crouched in the dust, not daring to move, as the cudgel smashed into its head.

Thousands of drops of red brain and many a pearly piece of tooth flew everywhere, so terrifying Sanzang that he fell out of the saddle, biting on his finger and crying, “Heavens, the high warden had to fight for ages before killing the striped tiger the other day, but this Sun Wukong has smashed a tiger to pull with a single blow. He really is a tough's tough.”

“Sit down for a moment, master, while I strip the clothes off him to wear on the journey,” said Brother Monkey as he dragged the tiger over.

“But he hasn't got any clothes,” Sanzang protested.

“Don't bother yourself about it, I know how to cope.” The splendid Monkey King pulled a hair from his body, breathed some magic breath on it, and said “Change!,” on which it turned into a pointed knife shaped like a cow's ear. Cutting into the skin on the tiger's belly, he took it all off in a single stroke, chopped off the head and claws, then held up the square hide to get an idea of its size.

“It's on the big side,” he said, “so I could make two kilts out of it,” and with these words he took his knife and cut it in two. One piece he put away, and the other he wrapped round his waist to cover the lower half of his body and tied firmly with a creeper he pulled down from beside the path.

“Let's go on, master, let's go on,” he said. “The sewing can wait till we reach a house where we can borrow a needle and thread.” He pinched his iron cudgel to make it as small as a needle again, put it back in his ear, took the luggage on his back, and asked Sanzang to mount the horse.

As the two of them went along the venerable monk asked from the horse's back, “Wukong, why has the iron cudgel you used to kill the tiger disappeared?”

“What you don't know, master,” replied Brother Monkey with a laugh, “is that I got it from the dragon palace of the Eastern Sea, and that it's called the Magic Iron to Hold the Bed of the Milky Way in Place or 'As-You-Will Gold-Banded Cudgel'. When I raised my great rebellion against the Heavenly Palace in the old days it served me well. It can change into anything and be whatever size I want it to be. Just now I turned it into an embroidery needle and put it away in my ear. I only take it out when I need it.”

Concealing his delight at hearing this, Sanzang went on to ask, “Why didn't that tiger move when it saw you? Why on earth did it let you hit it?”

“I can tell you in all truthfulness, master, that not just tigers but even dragons have to be on their best behavior when they meet me. I know a few tricks for putting them in their place and have the power to make rivers run backwards and stir up the seas. I can tell what things are really like from appearances alone, and sort out the truth behind what is said. When I want to make myself big I measure myself against the universe, and when I shrink I can be held on a downy hair. There's no limit to the transformations I can perform, and nobody can tell when I'm going to vanish or when I'm going to reappear. There was nothing wonderful about skinning that tiger. Wait till I show you a thing or two.” This took a great load off Sanzang's mind, and he whipped his horse on. As master and disciple went along their way talking together, the sun was sinking in the West, and they saw:

In the fiery glow of the setting sun

The clouds return to ends of the sky and the sea.

The birds on a thousand mountains chirrup and call,

Flying in flocks to the woods for the night.

The wild beasts go two by two;

All species return to their dens.

A crescent moon breaks through the dusk,

As countless points of starlight shimmer.

“You must hurry up, master, as it's late,” said Monkey. “There must be a house in that clump of trees over there, so let's get there as soon as possible to settle down for the night.” Sanzang whipped on his horse and galloped to the house, where he dismounted.

Brother Monkey put down the luggage, went up to the gate, and shouted, “Open up, open up.” An old man came out, leaning on a bamboo stick, and the gate creaked as he opened it. At the sight of Monkey's ugly face and the tiger-skin wrapped around him, which made him look like the god of thunder, the old man was so terrified that his legs turned to jelly and his body went numb.

“A devil… A devil,” he muttered deliriously.

Sanzang went up to support him, saying, “Don't be afraid, aged benefactor. He's no devil, he's my disciple.” When the old man looked up and saw Sanzang's pure face he felt steady on his feet at once, and he asked what monastery Sanzang was from, and why had he brought that evil-looking creature to his house.

“I come from the Tang Court,” said Sanzang, “and I am going to the Western Heaven to visit the Buddha and ask for the scriptures. As we were passing this way at nightfall we came to your mansion, good benefactor, to ask for a night's lodging. We shall be off before dawn tomorrow. I very much hope that you will be able to help us.”

“You may be a Tang man,” the old fellow replied, “but that ugly brute certainly isn't.”

“You've got no eyes in your head, you silly old man,” shrieked Brother Monkey. “He's my master and I'm his disciple. I'm no Tang man or Spike man, I'm the Great Sage Equaling Heaven. Some of the people who live in this house must know me, and I've seen you before.”

“Where've you seen me?” the old man asked.

“Didn't you gather firewood in front of my face and pick wild vegetables from my cheeks when you were a child?” said Sun Wukong.

“Rubbish,” retorted the old man.

“Where did you live and where did I live when I was supposed to gather firewood and wild vegetables in front of your face?”