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“Elder brother,” Pig replied, “I can't live on wind and mist like you. You couldn't realize how the hunger's been gnawing at my stomach all these days I've been following our master.”

“Pig,” said Sanzang, “if your heart is still at home, you are not intended for a religious life, and you'd better go back.”

The oafish Pig fell to his knees and pleaded, “Master, please don't pay any attention to what my elder brother says: it's an insult. He says I wish I hadn't come, but in fact I've had no regrets at all. I may be stupid, but I'm straight. I just said that I was hungry and want to beg for some food, and he starts calling me a homesick ghost. But the Bodhisattva told me about the prohibitions, and you have been so kind to me; so I really do want to serve you on your journey to the West. I'll never have any regrets, I swear I won't. This is what they call 'cultivating conduct the hard way'. What right have you to say I shouldn't be a monk?”

“Very well then,” said Sanzang, “up you get.”

The idiot leapt up, and picked up the carrying-pole, chattering incessantly. Then he pressed grimly on. Before long they reached the roadside house, where Sanzang dismounted as Monkey took the bridle and Pig put down his burden. They all stood in a green shade. Sanzang took his nine-ringed monastic staff, straightened his rattan hat, and hurried to the gates, where he saw an old man lying back on a bamboo bed mumbling Buddhist scriptures to himself.

Not wanting to shout loudly, Sanzang said in a quiet voice, “Greetings, benefactor.”

The old man sprang to his feet, straightened his clothes, and came out through the gate to return his greeting. “Excuse my discourtesy, venerable sir,” he said, going on to ask, “Where are you from, and why have you come to my humble abode?”

“I am a monk from the Great Tang in the East,” Sanzang replied, “and I bear an imperial command to worship the Buddha in the Thunder Monastery and ask for the scriptures. As we find ourselves in this district at nightfall, I would be enormously obliged if you could allow us to spend the night in your mansion.”

“You'll never get there,” said the old man with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head. “It's impossible to get scriptures from the Western Heaven. If you want scriptures you'd better go to the Eastern Heaven.” Sanzang said nothing as he asked himself why the old man was telling them to go East when the Bodhisattva had instructed them to go West. How could the scriptures be obtained in the East, he asked himself. In his embarrassment he was at loss for words, so he made no reply.

Monkey, who was rough by his very nature, could not stand for this, so he went up to the old man and shouted, “Old fellow, you may be very ancient but you're a complete fool. We holy men from far away come to ask for lodging, but all you can do is to try to put us off. If your house is too poky and there isn't room for us to sleep in it, we'll sit under the trees all night and won't trouble you any further.” The old man grabbed hold of Sanzang and said, “Master, you didn't warn me that you had a disciple with such a twisted face and no chin to speak of, looking like a thunder god with his red eyes. You shouldn't let a demon of sickness like him alarm and offend a person of my age.”

“You're completely lacking in judgement, old man,” Monkey said with a laugh. “Those pretty boys may look good but, as they say, they don't taste good. I may be little but I'm tough, and it's all muscle under my skin.”

“I suppose you must have some powers,” the old man remarked.

“Without wishing to boast,” Monkey replied, “I can get by.”

“Where is your home,” the old man asked, “and why did you shave your head and become a monk?”

“My ancestral home is the Water Curtain Cave on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit in the land of Aolai which lies across the sea to the East of the Eastern Continent of Superior Body. I learned how to be an evil monster from childhood, and my name was Wukong, or Awakened to Emptiness. I used my abilities to make myself the Great Sage Equaling Heaven, but as I declined heavenly office and raised a great rebellion against the Heavenly Palace, I brought a disaster down on my own head. My sufferings are now over. I've turned to the Buddhist faith and am seeking a good reward for the future by escorting His Tang Excellency, my master, on his journey to the Western Heaven to visit the Buddha. I'm not afraid of high mountains with precipitous paths, or of broad rivers with huge waves. I can catch monsters and subdue demons, capture tigers or dragons, walk in the sky, or burrow into the earth. As long as your mansion has a few broken bricks and tiles, a singing pot and an open door, I'll be able to rest here contented.”

After hearing this speech, the old man said with a chuckle, “So you're a monk with the gift of the gab who suddenly switched destinies.”

“You're the gabber, my child,” retorted Monkey. “I'm too tired after the strain of the journey with my master to be able to talk.”

“It's as well you are,” the old man replied, “or you'd be talking me to death. If you have all these powers you'll be able to reach the West. How many of you are there? Please come into my cottage for the night.”

“Thank you very much for not losing your temper with him,” Sanzang said. “There are three of us.”

“Where is the third?” the old man asked.

“Your eyes are very dim, old man,” said Monkey, pointing as he continued, “Can't you see him standing in the shade there?”

When the old man, whose eyes were indeed dim, looked carefully and saw Pig's face he was so terrified that he ran into the house shouting, “Shut the gates, shut the gates, there's a monster here.”

Monkey ran after him and grabbed him. “Don't be afraid, old fellow,” he said, “he's not an evil monster, he's a fellow-disciple of mine.”

“Very well then,” replied the old man, who was trembling all over, “but what a hideous creature to be a monk.”

As the old man was talking to the three monks in front of the gates, two young men appeared at the Southern end of the farm bringing an old woman and three or four children back from transplanting rice-seedlings, for which reason their clothes were tucked up and their feet were bare.

When they saw the white horse and the carrying pole with luggage and heard the shouting at the gates of their home, they did not know what was up, so they rushed forward and asked, “What are you doing?” Pig turned round, flapped his ears, and thrust his snout at them, at which they all collapsed in terror or fled.

In the confusion Sanzang kept calling out, “Don't be afraid, don't be afraid, we are good men, we are monks going to fetch the scriptures.” The old man then came out again, and helped the old woman to her feet.

“Up you get, wife,” he said, “there's no call for panic. This holy father is from the Tang court, and although his disciples are a bit ugly, their hearts are in the right place. Please take the youngsters inside.” The old woman clung to the old man while the two young men took the children inside.

As he sat on a bamboo chair in the gatehouse, Sanzang said indignantly, “Disciples, the pair of you are ugly to look at, and your language is too coarse. You gave that whole family a terrible fright, and got me into trouble.”

“I tell you truthfully, master,” Pig replied, “that I've grown better-looking since I've been following you. When I lived in Gao Village I looked so awful that I often used to scare twenty or thirty people to death by making a face and waggling my ears.”

“Don't exaggerate, stupid,” said Monkey with a smile, “and tidy that ugly mug of yours up a bit.”

“What nonsense you're talking, Monkey,” said Sanzang. “He was born that way, so how can you expect him to tidy his face up?”

“He could stick his rake of a snout into his chest, and not bring it out; and he could lay those fan-shaped ears down behind his head and not waggle them. That would tidy his appearance up.” Pig then tucked his snout away and laid his ears back, and stood beside Sanzang with his head bowed. Brother Monkey took the luggage inside and tethered the white horse to a post.