“I'm old enough, fellow,” said Monkey.
“How old are you then?” the old man asked. “Guess,” Monkey replied.
“Six or seven,” the old man said. “I'm ten thousand times as old as that,” laughed Monkey, “I'll show you my old face, then you'll believe me.”
“How can you have another face?” the old man asked.
“This little monk has seventy-two faces,” Monkey replied.
Not realizing that Monkey really had these powers the old man went on questioning him till Monkey rubbed his face and turned back into himself, with his protruding teeth, big mouth, red thighs and tigerskin kilt round his waist. As he stood there at the foot of the rocky scar, holding his gold-banded cudgel, he was the living image of a thunder god. The sight of him made the old man turn pale with terror and go so weak at the knees that he could not keep himself upright but collapsed to the ground. When he got to his feet again he lost his balance once more.
“Old man,” said the Great Sage, going up to him, “don't get yourself so frightened over nothing. I may look evil but I'm good inside. Don't be afraid! You were kind enough just now to tell us that there are demons here. Could I trouble you to let me know how many of them there are? I'll thank you very much if you do.” The old man trembled, unable to speak and acting as if deaf. He replied not a word.
Getting no answer from him, Monkey went back down the slope.
“So you are back, Wukong,” Sanzang said. “What did you find out?”
“It's nothing,” said Monkey with a smile, “nothing. Even if there are one or two evil spirits on the way to the Western Heaven, the people here only worry so much about them because they're such cowards. No problem! I'm here!”
“Did you ask him what mountain this was and what cave,” said Sanzang, “how many monsters there are, and which is the way to Thunder Monastery?”
“Please excuse me if I speak frankly, Master,” put in Pig. “When it comes to transformations, trickery and deception, then four or five of us would be no match for Brother Monkey. But a whole parade of Monkeys couldn't touch me for honesty.”
“That's right,” said the Tang Priest, “that's right. You're honest.”
“Goodness knows why,” said Pig, “but he just rushed in without a second thought, asked a couple of questions, and came running back in an awful mess. I'm going to find out the truth.”
“Do be careful, Wuneng,” said the Tang Priest.
The splendid idiot put his rake in his belt, straightened up his tunic, and swaggered straight up the slope to call to the old man, “Respectful greetings, sir.” The old man had finally managed to get back on his feet with the help of his stick after seeing that Monkey had gone, and was still shaking and about to depart when Pig suddenly appeared.
“Sir,” he said, more shocked than ever, “whatever kind of nightmare am I in the middle of? The first monk was ugly enough, but at least he looked a little bit human. But this one's got a snout like a pestle, ears like rush fans, a face like iron plates, and a neck covered in bristles. It doesn't look at all human.”
“You must be in a very bad mood to run me down like that, old man,” laughed Pig. “Is that how you see me? Ugly I may be, but if you can bear to look at me for a while you'll find I get quite handsome.”
Only when the old man heard Pig using human speech did he address him by asking, “Where are you from?”
“I'm the Tang Priest's second disciple,” Pig replied, “and my Buddhist names are Wuneng or Bajie. The one who came and asked you questions just now was Sun Wukong the Novice, the senior disciple. My master has sent me to pay my respects to you because he's angry with Sun Wukong for offending you and not finding out the truth. Could you please tell me, sir, what mountain this is, what caves there are on it, what demons live in them, and which is the main route West?”
“Are you honest?” the old man asked.
“I've never been false in all my life,” Pig replied. “You mustn't talk a whole lot of fancy nonsense like the other monk just now,” said the old man.
“I'm not like him,” Pig replied.
Leaning on his stick, the old man said to Pig, “This is Lion Ridge, and it is 250 miles around. In it there is a Lion Cave where there are three demon chieftains.”
“You're worrying over nothing, old man,” said Pig, spitting. “Why go to all that trouble just to tell us about three demons?”
“Aren't you afraid?” the old man said.
“To tell you the truth,” Pig replied, “my elder brother'll kill one with one swing of his cudgel, I'll kill another with one bash from my rake, and the other disciple will kill the third one with his demon-quelling staff. And with the three of them dead our master will be able to cross the ridge. No problem!”
“You don't know the whole story, monk,” said the old man with a smile. “Those three demon chiefs have the most tremendous magic powers. As for the little demons under their command, there are five thousand on the Southern end of the ridge, five thousand on the Northern end, ten thousand on the road East, ten thousand on the road West, four or five thousand patrollers, and another ten thousand on the gates. Then there are any number who work in the kitchen and gather firewood. There must be 47,000 or 48,000 altogether. They all have names and carry passes, and all they do is eat people.”
On learning this the idiot ran back, shivering and shaking. As soon as he was near the Tang Priest he put down his rake and started shitting instead of reporting back. “What are you squatting there for instead of making your report?” shouted Monkey when he saw the idiot.
“Because I'm shit scared,” Pig replied. “No time to talk now. The sooner we all run for our lives the better.”
“Stupid fool,” said Monkey. “I wasn't frightened when I questioned him, so why should you be in such a witless panic?”
“What is the situation?” Sanzang asked.
“The old man says that this is Lion Mountain,” Pig replied, “and that there's Lion Cave in it. There are three chief demons there, and they have 48,000 little devils under them. All they do is eat people. So if we step on their mountain we'll just be serving ourselves up as a meal to them. Let's forget about it.” On hearing this Sanzang shivered, his hairs standing on end.
“What are we to do, Wukong?” he asked.
“Don't worry, Master,” said Monkey. “It can't be anything much. There are bound to be a few evil spirits here. It's just that the people here are such cowards that they exaggerate about how many demons there are and how powerful they are. They get themselves into a funk. I can cope.”
“You're talking nonsense, brother,” said Pig. “I'm not like you. What I found out was the truth. I wasn't making any of it up. The hills and valleys are all crawling with demons. How are we going to move ahead?”
“You're talking like an idiot,” said Monkey with a grin. Don't scare yourself over nothing. Even if the hills and valleys were crawling with demons I'd only need half a night to wipe them all out with my cudgel.”
“You're shameless,” said Pig, “quite shameless. Stop talking so big. It would take seven or eight days just to call the roll. How could you wipe them all out?”
“Tell me how you'd do it,” laughed Monkey.
“However you grabbed them, tied them up, or fixed them where they are with fixing magic you'd never be able to do it so fast,” said Pig.
“I wouldn't need to grab them or tie them up,” said Monkey. “I'll give my cudgel a tug at both ends, say 'Grow!,' and make it over four hundred feet long. Then I'll wave it, say 'Thicken!,' and make it eighty feet around. I'll roll it down the Southern slope and that'll kill five thousand of them. I'll roll it down the Northern slope and kill another five thousand. Then I'll roll it along the ridge from East to West, and even if there are forty or fifty thousand of them I'll squash them all to a bloody pulp.”