Monkey went back into the throne hall and asked his master to return to the hostel with him while he prepared the medicine. Sanzang was just getting up to go when the king sent a command from the inner quarters that the Master of the Law was to stay behind and spend the night in the Hall of Literary Splendor; the next morning, after taking the medicine and recovering from his illness, the king would reward them, inspect the passport and send them on their way. Sanzang was horrified.

“Disciple,” he said, “he means to keep me here as a hostage. If he is cured he will be happy to send us on our way, but if the treatment fails my life is over. You must be very careful and pay full attention when preparing the medicine.”

“Don't worry, Master,” Monkey said with a smile, “Enjoy yourself here. I'm a superb doctor.”

Taking his leave of Sanzang and of all the officials the splendid Great Sage went straight back to the hostel where Pig welcomed him with a grin. “Brother,” he said, “I know what you're up to.”

“What?” Monkey asked.

“If fetching the scriptures doesn't come off you'll be left without any capital to start up a business.” Pig replied. “Now you've seen how prosperous this place is you're planning to open a chemist's shop here.”

“Don't talk nonsense,” shouted Monkey. “When I've cured the king I'll use my success to leave the court and be on our way. I'm not going to be running a chemist's.”

“Well,” said Pig, “if you're not opening a shop, why get three pounds of each of 808 different ingredients to treat one man? How much of it will you need? How many years will it take for him to finish the lot?”

“He'll never finish that much,” Monkey replied. “The fellows of their Royal College of Medicine are a load of idiots. The only reason why I sent for so many ingredients was to baffle them and stop them knowing which ones I'm going to use. Then they won't be able to find out what my miraculous prescription is.”

As they were talking two of the hostel staff came in and fell to their knees before them to say, “We beg the holy monks and reverend gentlemen to partake of their evening repast.”

“This morning you treated us rather differently,” said Monkey, “so why go on your knees to invite us now?”

“When you first came, my lords,” the hostel orderlies replied, “we were too blind to recognize your illustrious faces. Now we have heard how you are using your outstanding medical powers to treat our king. If His Majesty recovers his health he will share the kingdom with you, so we'll all be your subjects. So it's only proper for us to kowtow to you and to invite you politely to eat.” On hearing this Monkey cheerfully took the place of honour while Pig and Friar Sand sat to his left and right.

As the vegetarian meal was served Friar Sand asked, “Where's our master, brother?”

“The king's kept him as a hostage,” Monkey replied. “When the king's cured he'll regard us and send us on our way.”

“Is he being well looked after?” Friar Sand continued.

“His host's a king,” Monkey replied, “so of course he's in luxury. When I went there he had three senior ministers looking after him and he was invited into the Hall of Literary Splendor.”

“In that case,” said Pig, “the master's still doing much better than us. He's got ministers looking after him, and we've only got a couple of hostel orderlies to serve us. So I'm going to forget about him and eat a good meal.” Thus the three of them enjoyed their meal at ease.

It was now late. “Tidy the dishes away,” Monkey said to the hostel orderlies, “and fetch me plenty of oil and candles. The best time for us to make up the medicine will be in the quiet of the night.”

The orderlies brought oil and candles as instructed and were then dismissed. In the still silence of the middle of the night Pig asked, “Brother, what, medicines are we going to make? Let's get on with it. I need my shut-eye.”

“Get an ounce of rhubarb and grind it to a fine powder with a roller,” said Brother Monkey.

“Rhubarb has a bitter taste and a cold nature and isn't noxious,” said Friar Sand. “Its nature is deep, not superficial; it's an active medicine, not a defensive one. It removes stagnations and clears obstructions, settles disorder, and brings about peace, and they call it 'the general'. It's a cathartic drug. But perhaps it's wrong for someone in an empty, weakened state after a long illness.”

“There's something you don't know, brother,” Monkey said. “This drug helps phlegm, makes the vital forces travel smoothly, and calms the heat and cold that become congested in the stomach. Just leave me alone and fetch me an ounce of croton seeds. Shell them, peel them, hammer the poisonous oil out of them, then grind them to a fine powder with a roller.”

“Croton seed is acrid, hot by nature and poisonous,” said Pig. “It cuts away hard accumulations, deals with submerged cold in the lungs and bowels, and clears obstructions. It smooths the way for water and grain. It's a warrior for storming passes and gates. You must be very careful how you use it.”

“Brother,” Monkey replied, “what you don't understand is that this is a drug that destroys knots, opens the intestine and can cure swelling of the heart and dropsy. Hurry up and get it ready. And I'll want an adjuvant to back it up.”

The two of them started work on grinding the two drugs to a fine powder. “You'll need dozens more, brother,” they said, “so which'll they be?”

“That's all,” Monkey replied.

“But you've got three pounds of each of 808 different medicinal ingredients,” Pig said. “If all you're going to use is two ounces you've been making a fool of these people.”

Monkey then produced a patterned porcelain dish and said, “Stop talking, brothers. Take this dish and fill it half full with soot scraped from a cooking pot.”

“Whatever for?” Pig asked.

“I need it for the medicine,” Monkey replied. “I never heard of soot from a cooking pot being used in medicine,” said Friar Sand.

“It's called 'frost on the flowers,'“ said Monkey, “and it helps treat all kinds of illness. Didn't you know that?” The idiot then scraped off half a dishful and ground it up to a fine powder.

Monkey then handed him another dish and said, “Now fetch me half a dishful of our horse's piss.”

“What for?” Pig asked.

“To make the medicine up into pills with.” Monkey replied.

“Brother,” said Friar Sand with a smile, “this is no joking matter. Horse piss stinks. You can't use it in medicine. I've only seen vinegar paste, old rice paste, refined honey and clean water used for making pills. Who ever heard of horse piss used to make pills? It's got a terrible stink. Anyone with a weak spleen would throw up at the first sniff. If he goes on and takes the rhubarb and croton seeds he'll be vomiting at one end and having the runs at the other. That'll be no joke.”

“You don't know the inside story,” said Monkey. “That horse of ours is no ordinary horse. He used to be a dragon in the Western Ocean. If he'll give us some of his piss it'll cure any illness you could have. My only worry is that he might refuse.” When Pig heard this he went and stood beside the horse, who was lying down asleep. The idiot kicked the horse till he got to his feet then pressed himself against the horse's stomach for a very long time but without seeing any sign of piss. He ran back to Monkey to say, “Brother, never mind about treating the king. Hurry up and cure the horse. He's done for: he's dried right up. There's no way we're going to get a drop of piss out of him.”

“I'll go with you,” smiled Monkey.

“I'll come and have a look too,” said Friar Sand.

When the three of them reached the horse he started to jump about and shout in human language at the top of his voice, “How can you be so ignorant, brother? I used to be a flying dragon in the Western Ocean. The Bodhisattva Guanyin saved me after I'd offended against the Heavenly Code. She sawed off my horns, removed my scales and turned me into a horse to carry the master to the Western Heaven to fetch the scriptures. This way I'll be able to redeem my crimes. If I pissed into any river I was crossing the fish in the water would drink it and turn into dragons. The grass on any mountain we were going over that got a taste of it would become magic fungus for immortal boys to gather and give themselves eternal life. So of course I can't casually drop it in a vulgar, worldly place like this.”