“It's you who's talking rubbish, my child,” replied Sun Wukong. “You don't know who I am, but I'm the Great Sage from the stone cell under the Double Boundary Mountain. Take another look and see if you can recognize me now.” The old man at last realized who he was and said, “I suppose you do look a bit like him, but however did you get out?” Sun Wukong told him the whole story of how the Bodhisattva had converted him and told him to wait till the Tang Priest came to take off the seal and release him. The old man went down on his knees and bowed his head, inviting the Tang Priest inside and calling his wife and children to come and meet him; they were all very happy when they heard what had happened.

When they had drunk tea he asked Sun Wukong, “How old are you, Great Sage?”

“How old are you, then?” said Sun Wukong.

“In my senile way I have reached a hundred and thirty.”

“Then you could be my remote descendant,” said Brother Monkey. “I can't remember when I was born, but I spent over five hundred years under that mountain.”

“True, true,” remarked the old man, “I remember my grandfather saying that this mountain fell from heaven to crush a magical monkey, and you weren't able to get out before now. When I saw you in my childhood, grass grew on your head and there was mud on your face, so I wasn't afraid of you. But now that the mud and grass have gone you look thinner, and the tiger-skin round your waist makes you as near a devil as makes no difference.”

This conversation made everyone roar with laughter, and as he was a kind old man he had a vegetarian meal set out. When the meal was over Sanzang asked him his surname.

“Chen,” the old man replied. On hearing this, Sanzang raised his hands in greeting and said, “Venerable benefactor, you are of the same clan as myself.”

“Master,” protested Brother Monkey, “You're called Tang, aren't you, so how can you belong to the same clan as him?”

“My secular surname is Chen, and I am from Juxian Village, Hongnong Prefecture, Haizhou, in the Tang Empire. My Buddhist name is Chen Xuanzang. But as our Great Tang Emperor Taizong called me his younger brother and gave me the surname Tang, I am known as the Tang Priest.” The old fellow was delighted to hear that they shared a surname.

“Chen, old fellow,” said Monkey, “I'm afraid this will be putting your family out, but I haven't washed for over five hundred years, so could you go and boil up some water for me and my master to have a bath before we set out again? Thank you.” The old man gave instructions for water to be boiled and a tub brought, and he lit the lamp.

When master and disciple had bathed they sat down by the lamp, and Brother Monkey asked once more, “Old Chen, there's another thing I'd like to ask you: could you lend me a needle and thread?”

“Yes, of course,” the old man replied, sending his wife to fetch them and then handing them to Monkey. Monkey's sharp eyes had observed his master take off a short white cotton tunic, which he did not put on again, so Monkey grabbed it and put it on himself. Then he took off his tiger skin, joined it up with a pleat, wrapped it round his waist again, tied it with a creeper, went up to his master, and asked, “How would you say these clothes compared with what I was wearing before?”

“Splendid, splendid,” replied Sanzang, “it makes you look quite like a real monk. If you don't mind cast-offs,” he added, “you can go on wearing that tunic.” Sun Wukong chanted a “na-a-aw” of obedience and thanked him, then went off to find some hay for the horse. When all the jobs were finished, master and disciple went to bed.

Early the next morning Sun Wukong woke up and asked his master to set out. Sanzang dressed and told Monkey to pack the bedding and the rest of the luggage. They were just on the point of leaving when the old man appeared. He had prepared hot water for washing as well as breakfast. After breakfast they set out, Sanzang riding the horse and Brother Monkey leading. They ate when they were hungry and drank when they were thirsty, travelling by day and resting by night. Thus they went on until they realized it was early winter.

When the frost destroys the red leaves the woods are sparse;

On the ridge only pine and cypress flourish.

The unopened plum buds exhale a dark perfume,

Warming the short days,

A touch of spring.

When the chrysanthemum and lotus is finished, the wild tea blossoms.

By the cold bridge and the ancient trees the birds quarrel for branches.

In the twisting gully the waters of the spring run low,

Pale snow clouds drift across the sky.

The North wind blows strong,

Tugging at your-sleeves:

Who can bear the cold towards evening?

When master and disciple had been travelling for a long time they heard a whistle from beside the path, and six men rushed out with spears, swords, cutlasses, and strongbows.

“Where do you think you're going, monk?” they roared. “If you give us your horse and luggage we'll spare your life.” Sanzang fell from his horse, scared out of his wits and unable to utter a word. Brother Monkey helped him to his feet and said, “Don't worry, master, it's nothing serious. They're come to bring us some clothes and our travelling expenses.”

“Are you deaf, Wukong?” the other asked. “They told us to give them our horse and luggage, so how can you ask them for clothes and money?”

“You look after the clothes, the luggage and the horse while I go and have a bash at them. We'll see what happens.”

“A good hand is no match for two fists,” said Sanzang, “and a pair of fists is no match for four hands. They are six big men against little you, all by yourself. You can't possibly have the nerve to fight them.”

The brave Brother Monkey did not stop to argue. Instead he stepped forward, folded his arms across his chest, bowed to the six bandits and said, “Why are you gentlemen obstructing our way?”

“We are mighty robber kings, benevolent lords of the mountain. We have been very famous for a long time, although you don't seem to have heard of us. If you abandon your things at once, we'll let you go on your way; but if there's even a hint of a 'no' from you, we'll turn your flesh into mincemeat and your bones into powder.”

“I too am a hereditary robber king, and have ruled a mountain for many years, but I've never heard of you gentlemen.”

“Since you don't know our names, I'll tell them to you: Eye-seeing Happiness, Ear-hearing Anger, Nose-smelling Love, Tongue-tasting Thought, Mind-born Desire, and Body-based Sorrow.” Sun Wukong laughed at them. “You're just a bunch of small-time crooks. You can't see that I'm your lord and master although I'm a monk, and you have the effrontery to get in our way. Bring out all the jewels you've stolen, and the seven of us can share them out equally. I'll let you off with that.”

This made the bandits happy, angry, loving, thoughtful, desirous, and sorrowful respectively, and they all charged him, yelling, “You've got a nerve, monk. You've got nothing to put in the kitty, but you want to share our stuff.” Waving their spears and swords they rushed him, hacking wildly at his face. Seventy or eighty blows crashed down on him, but he simply stood in the middle of them, ignoring everything.

“What a monk!” the bandits said. “He's a real tough nut.”

“I think we've seen enough of that,” said Brother Monkey with a smile. “Your hands must be tired after all that bashing. Now it's my turn to bring out my needle for a bit of fun.”

“This monk must have been an acupuncturist,” said the bandits. “There's nothing wrong with us. Why is he talking about needles?”

Taking the embroidery needle from his ear, Brother Monkey shook it in the wind, at which it became an iron cudgel as thick as a ricebowl. With this in his hand he said, “Stick around while I try my cudgel out.” The terrified bandits tried to flee in all directions, but Monkey raced after them, caught them all up, and killed every one of them. Then he stripped the clothes off them, took their money, and went back with his face wreathed in smiles.