“Do you have a chronic eye complaint, reverend sir?” the old man asked.

“I can tell you truthfully, sir,” Monkey replied, “that we religious men have never been ill before, and I've never had trouble with my eyes before.”

“Then why are you asking for ointment?” the old man asked.

“We were trying to rescue our master on the Yellow Wind Ridge today,” Monkey explained, “when that monster started blowing his wind at me, which made my eyes ache. They're streaming with tears now, which is why I want to find some eye ointment.”

“A fine story,” the old man commented. “How could you tell such lies, a reverend gentleman, and so young a one at that? The Great King of the Yellow Wind's hurricane is really terrible. It can't be compared with spring winds, autumn winds, pine and bamboo winds, or North, South, East and West winds.”

“It must be a brain-snatching wind,” interrupted Pig, “or a goat's ear wind, or a hemp wind, or a head-twisting wind.”

“No, no,” the old man said, “it's called a Divine Samadhi Wind.”

“What's it like?” Monkey asked.

“It can darken Heaven and Earth,

Make gods and devils gloomy,

Split rocks open and bring cliffs down,

And it doesn't stop till you're dead,”

the old man replied. “If you'd encountered that wind, you couldn't possibly have survived. Only a god or an Immortal would be able to survive such a wind.”

“Quite right,” Monkey replied, “quite right. Although we're not gods or Immortals ourselves, I regard them as my juniors, and this life of mine is extremely hard to snuff out-all the wind could do was to make my eyes very sore.”

“If what you say is true,” the old man said, “you must really be somebody. Although there is nowhere that sells eye ointment here, I sometimes suffer from watering eyes myself when I'm in the wind, and I once met an unusual person who gave me a prescription for 'Three Flower Nine Seed Ointment'. This cures all inflammations of the eye.”

Monkey bowed his head, chanted a respectful “na-a-aw,” and said, “Please put a little on my eyes for me to try.” The old man consented, went inside, and brought out a tiny agate bottle. Removing the stopper, he dipped a jade hairpin inside and put a tiny amount in Monkey's eyes, then told him not to open them. He could go to sleep without worrying, and in the morning he would be cured. When he had finished applying it he put the stopper back the bottle and gave it to a servant to put away inside. Pig opened their bundles, spread out their bedding, and told Monkey to go to bed.

Monkey groped about so wildly with his eyes shut that Pig laughed at him and said, “Would you like a blind man's stick, sir?”

“Chaff-guzzling moron,” Monkey retorted, “do you want to make a blind man of me?” The idiot chuckled himself quietly to sleep, but Monkey sat thinking on the bed until midnight before he dozed off.

At about five the next morning, just before the break of day, Brother Monkey rubbed his face, opened his eyes and said, “It certainly is good ointment-I can see far, and more clearly than ever.” He turned round to look behind him, and to his astonishment there was no house, windows, or doors; all that could be seen were some ancient locust trees and tall willows. The pair of them were sleeping on cushions of green sedge.

“What are you shouting for?” asked Pig as he woke up.

“Open your eyes and look,” replied Monkey. The idiot raised his head, and when he saw that there was nobody there, he leapt up in a panic with the words, “Where's our horse?”

“Over there, tied to a tree,” said Monkey.

“What about the luggage?”

“There, beside your head.”

“The wretches,” said Pig, “moving way in the middle of the night. Damn it, we must have been almost dead asleep. However did they dismantle the house without us hearing a thing?”

“Idiot,” said Monkey with a snigger, “don't go shouting all over the place. Can you see what that piece of paper on the tree over there is?” Pig went over, tore it down, and saw that there were four lines of verse on it:

“This farm was not inhabited by mortals;

The Revealers of the Truth produced the house by magic.

I gave you good medicine to cure your eyes:

Subdue demons with all your heart, and never hesitate.”

“So those tough gods came to play their tricks, although I haven't called the roll since they changed the dragon into a horse,” said Monkey.

“Don't show off, brother,” said Pig. “How could they possibly answer to your roll-call?”

“You don't realize,” Monkey replied, “that the Protectors of the Faith, the Six Dings, the Six Jias, the Revealers of the Truth of the Five Regions and the Four Duty Gods have all been ordered by the Bodhisattva to give secret protection to our master. They reported their names to me then, but as I've had you with me recently I haven't needed them again, which is why I haven't called the roll.”

“Brother,” Pig replied, “if they have been ordered to protect our master in secret, then of course they can't appear in their true forms. That was why they produced the magic farm. You mustn't be angry with them. Yesterday they gave you eye ointment and fed us-they did all they could. Don't be angry with them. Let's go and rescue the master instead.”

“How right you are,” said Monkey. “It's not far from here to the Yellow Wind Cave, so there's no need for you to move. You'd better stay in the wood and look after the horse and the luggage while I go to the cave to see what I can find out about where our master is before fighting the monster again.”

“Yes,” said Pig, “find out for sure whether he's alive or dead. If the master's dead, we'd better each go our own way, and if he's alive we'll do everything we can to save him.”

“Stop talking such nonsense,” replied Monkey. “I'm off.”

With a single jump he arrived at the entrance to the cave, where the gates were still locked as everyone was asleep. Monkey did not call on them to open the gates as he did not want to alarm the monsters. Instead he said a spell, made a magic movement with his hand, shook himself, and turned into a neat little mosquito. There are some lines about it that go:

Its troublesome little body has a sharp bite,

Its faint buzz echoes like thunder.

Clever at getting through the curtains round the bed,

It particularly loves the summer's warm weather.

It fears only smoke and fly-swatters,

And loves the brilliance of the lamp.

Light and tiny, it flies straight in,

Entering the evil spirit's cave.

Seeing that the lowly demon on the gate was fast asleep and snoring, Monkey bit him on the face, at which the creature woke up and said, “My lord! What an enormous mosquito! It's raised a huge lump with a single bite.” Then he opened his eyes and announced, “It's light.” The two gates creaked open, and Monkey flew inside with a buzz to see the old demon giving orders that a very close watch was to be kept at all the gates, and all the weapons are to be assembled at such-and-such a spot.

“I'm afraid that yesterday's wind may not have killed Brother Monkey,” he was saying, “and I think he's bound to come back today. When he does, I'll finish him off.”

When he heard this, Monkey flew across to the back of the hall where he saw a door that was tightly closed. He slipped through the crack between the two leaves of the door and found himself in a large empty garden, on one side of which was the wind-settling stake with the Tang Priest tied to it. The tears were pouring down Sanzang's face as he wondered where Monkey and Pig were. Monkey stopped flying as he stung his shaven pate and called, “Master.”

“Monkey,” said Sanzang, recognizing his voice, “do you want to get me killed? Where are you calling me from?”