“Beast, will you return to the truth now?” asked the Bodhisattva.

“I swear to, I swear to, if only you spare my life,” the monster repeated over and over again.

Monkey wanted to finish him off with no more ado, but the Bodhisattva stopped him at once: “Don't kill him-I've got a use for him.”

“What's the point in keeping that beast alive instead of killing him?” Monkey asked.

“I've got nobody to look after the back of my Potaraka Island,” she replied, “so I shall take him back with me to be an island-guarding deity.”

“You certainly are the all-merciful deliverer who doesn't allow a single soul to perish,” said Monkey with a laugh. “If I knew a spell like that one of yours, I'd say it a thousand times over and finish off all the black bears I could find.”

Although the bear spirit had come round and the spell had stopped, he was still in great pain as he knelt on the ground and begged pitifully, “Spare my life and I promise I'll return to the truth.” The Bodhisattva descended in a ray of light, placed her hands on his head, and administered the monastic discipline to him; then she told him to take up his spear and accompany her. The black bear's evil intentions ceased from that day on, and his unbounded perversity came to an end.

“Sun Wukong,” ordered the Bodhisattva, “go back now. Serve the Tang Priest well, don't be lazy, and don't start trouble.”

“I'm very grateful to you for coming so far, Bodhisattva, and I must see you home,” Monkey said. “That will not be necessary,” she replied. Monkey took the cassock kowtowed to her, and departed. The Bodhisattva took Bear back to the sea, and there is a poem to prove it:

A magic glow shines round the golden image,

The thousand rays of glorious light.

She saves all men, giving of her pity,

Surveying the whole universe and revealing the golden lotus.

Many shall now preach the scriptures' meaning,

Nor shall there be any flaw therein.

Subduing a demon and bringing him to truth, she returns to the sea;

The religion of Emptiness has recovered the brocade cassock.

If you don't know how things developed, listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

The Tang Priest Is Rescued in the Guanyin Temple

The Great Sage Removes a Monster from Gao Village

Taking his leave of the Bodhisattva, Monkey brought his cloud in to land, hung the cassock on a nanmu tree, pulled out his cudgel, charged into the Black Wind Cave, and found not a single goblin inside. This was because the appearance of the Bodhisattva in her true form had so terrified them that they had fled in all directions. Evil thoughts welled up in Brother Monkey, and after piling dry firewood all around the multi-storied gate he set it alight, turning the Black Wind Cave into a Red Wind Cave. Then he went back to the North on a beam of magic light.

Sanzang, who had been anxiously waiting for him, was beginning to wonder why he had not come back. Had the Bodhisattva not come when asked to, or had Monkey just made up a story to escape? As he was being racked by these desperate thoughts, a shimmering cloud appeared in mid-air and Monkey came down and knelt before him.

“Master, here's the cassock,” he announced, to Sanzang's great joy.

All the monks of the temple were delighted too, and they exclaimed, “Wonderful, wonderful, our lives are safe at last.”

“Monkey,” said Sanzang as he took the cassock from him, “when you set out this morning you reckoned that it would only take the length of a meal, or until midday at longest. Why have you only come back now, at sunset?” When Monkey gave him a full account of how he had asked the Bodhisattva to transform herself to subdue the monster, Sanzang set up an incense table and bowed low to the South. That done, he said, “Disciple, now that we have the Buddha's robe, pack our luggage as quickly as you can.”

“Not so fast, not so fast,” Monkey replied. “It's already evening, too late to hit the road. Let's set out tomorrow morning.”

The monks all knelt and said, “Lord Monkey is right. For one thing it's too late, and for another we made a vow. Now that all is well and the treasure has been recovered, we would like to carry out that vow and invite Your Lordships to share in the thanksgiving meal. Tomorrow morning we'll see you off on your way West.”

“Yes, yes,” urged Monkey. The monks then emptied their bags and produced everything that was left of what they had saved from the fire to make an offering of food. Then they burnt some paper to bring blessings and recited some sutras to ward off disaster. The ceremonies were finished that evening.

The next morning the horse was curried and the luggage packed, and then they set out. The monks escorted them a long distance before turning back, after which Monkey led the way. It was now early spring.

The grass cushions the horse's hooves,

New leaves emerge from the willow's golden threads.

Apricot vies for beauty with peach;

The wild fig round the path is full of life.

On sun-warmed sandbanks sleep mandarin ducks;

In the flower-scented gully the butterflies are quiet.

After autumn, winter, and half of spring,

Who knows when the journey will end as they find the true word?

One evening, after they had been travelling along a desolate path for six or seven days, master and disciple saw a distant village. “Monkey,” said Sanzang, “do you see the village not far over there? Let's go and ask them to put us up for the night; we can set off again tomorrow morning.”

“Wait till I've made sure it's all right before deciding.” Monkey replied, gazing at the village as his master pulled on the silken rein. He saw

Close-planted bamboo fences,

Many a thatched roof.

Outside the gates soar lofty trees;

Houses are mirrored in the waters under a bridge.

Green grow the willows beside the road,

Fragrant bloom the flowers in the gardens.

As sun sets in the West

Birds sing in the wooded hills.

The smoke of evening rises from the stoves

Along the paths roam sheep and cattle.

Well-fed chickens and pigs sleep under the eaves,

While the drunk old man sings his song next door.

When he had surveyed the scene, Brother Monkey said, “Go ahead, master. It's definitely a good village. We can spend the night there.” Sanzang urged his horse forward, and in a few moments they were at the beginning of the main street. A young man appeared wearing a silken turban, a blue jacket, a pair of trousers tied at the ankles, and a pair of straw sandals. He was carrying an umbrella in his hand and a pack on his back. He was a fine sight as he walked briskly down the street. Monkey grabbed him and asked, “Where are you going? I want to ask you something-where is this?”

The fellow, who was trying to break loose, shouted, “Why ask me? I'm not the only person in the village.”

“Don't be angry, kind sir,” replied Monkey, all smiles. “To help others is to help yourself. What harm can it do to tell me what the place is called? We might be able to bring your troubles to an end, you know.” Struggle as he might, the fellow could not break loose, which made him leap around with fury.

“Damn it, damn it,” he shouted, “I get more bullying from the old man than I can stand, and now I've got to run into you, baldy. You've got it in for me too.”

“If you're good for anything, get out of my grip,” Monkey said. “Do that and I'll let you go.” The young man twisted and turned, but he could not break free-it was as if he were held in a pair of pliers. In his temper he threw down his umbrella and his bundle, and tore at Monkey with both hands, trying to get hold of him. Monkey was holding the luggage in one hand, and with the other he was keeping the young man under control, and no matter how hard the fellow tried he could not get a grip on him. Monkey, however, was now holding him more firmly than ever, and was bursting with fury.