“What lousy luck,” said one of the bandits. “We've let the rich monk go and kept this bald donkey who's not got a penny to his name. I suppose you do tailoring. A needle's no use to us.” On hearing that they did not want it Monkey held the needle in his hand, waved it, and turned it into a cudgel as thick as a rice bowl.
“Young you may be, little monk,” said the terrified bandits, “but you certainly have some magical powers.”
Monkey then thrust the cudgel into the ground and said, “If any of you gentlemen can move it it's yours.” The two bandit chiefs rushed up to grab it, but they could no more move it than a dragonfly can move a stone pillar: it did not shift a fraction of an inch. How could those bandits have known that the gold-banded As-You-Will cudgel had been weighed on the scales of Heaven at 13,500 pounds? Then Monkey stepped forward, lifted it effortlessly, spun it in a writhing python movement, pointed it at the robbers and said, “You're all out of luck: you've met Monkey.”
The bandit chief rushed at him again and hit him another fifty or sixty times. “Your hands must be getting tired,” said Monkey. “Let me hit you one now, but don't think this is the real thing.” Watch him as he swings his cudgel, shakes it, and makes it as thick as the top of a well and seventy or eighty feet long. A single blow of it struck one bandit chief to the ground. He bit the dust and said no more.
“You're pretty cheek there, baldy,” said the other bandit chief abusively. “You've got no money, and now you've killed one of us.”
“Just a moment,” said Monkey with a smile. “I'm going to kill every one of you and wipe you all out.” With another swing of his cudgel he killed the other bandit chief, at which all their men threw down their spears and clubs and scattered in terror, fleeing for their lives.
The Tang Priest galloped Eastwards until Pig and Friar Sand stopped him and asked, “Where are you going, Master? This is the wrong way.”
“Disciples,” said Sanzang, reining in his horse, “go back and tell your brother to be merciful with that cudgel of his and not kill all the bandits.”
“Stop here, Master,” said Pig. “I'll go.” The idiot ran straight back along the path, shouting at the top of his voice, “Brother, the master says you're not to kill them.”
“Have I killed anyone?” Monkey asked.
“Where have the bandits all gone?” said Pig. “They've all run away apart from the two chiefs. They're asleep here.”
“You pox-ridden pair,” said Pig, addressing them, “no doubt you had a hard night of it and were so exhausted that you had to choose this of all places to sleep.” Walking closer to them he went on, “You're like me: you sleep with your mouths open and dribble.”
“It's because I smashed the beancurd out of them with my cudgel,” said Monkey.
“But people don't have beancurd in their heads,” said Pig.
“I beat their brains out,” said Monkey.
The moment he heard Monkey say that the idiot turned and rushed straight back to say to the Tang Priest, “He's scattered them.”
“Splendid, splendid,” said Sanzang. “Which way did they go?”
“He hit them so hard he laid them out,” Pig replied. “They can't go anywhere.”
“Then what do you mean by scattering them?” Sanzang asked.
“He killed them,” Pig replied. “If that isn't scattering their band, what else is it?”
“How did he hit them?” Sanzang asked.
“He hit two big holes in their heads,” said Pig.
“Open the bundle,” said Sanzang, “Take out a few coins, and buy some ointment somewhere to put on their wounds.”
“You're not being at all sensible, Master,” said Pig. “There's only any point in putting ointment on the wounds of people who are still alive. Why put it on gaping holes in people who are already dead?”
“Has he really killed them?” said Sanzang, losing his temper and beginning to mutter abusive remarks about monkeys and macaques as he turned the horse round and rode back with Friar Sand and Pig to where the dead men lay covered with gore, their heads pointing down the mountainside.
The sight was too much for the venerable elder. “Dig a grave for them with your rake and bury them,” he told Pig, “while I say the Burial Sutra for them.”
“You're giving the job to the wrong man, Master,” complained Pig. “Monkey killed them, so Monkey ought to bury them. Why make me do the digging?”
Brother Monkey, who was already in a very bad mood after being told off by the master, shouted at Pig, “Hooligan! Moron! Bury them at once. I'll hit you if you waste any more time.” This so alarmed the idiot that he started digging with his rake. When he was three feet down he came to a layer of stones that the prongs of his rake could not shift, so he threw the rake aside and rooted about with his snout. In the softer earth he could get two and a half feet down with one push and five feet with two. He then buried the two bodies and piled up a tombmound above them.
“Wukong,” said Sanzang, “fetch some incense and candles so that I can pray for them and recite sutras.”
“You understand nothing,” Monkey retorted, pouting. “We're in the middle of the mountains with no village or inn for miles around. Where do you expect me to get candles and incense? There's nowhere I could buy them even if I had the money.”
“Out of my way, ape,” said Sanzang with fury, “I am going to scatter earth on the tomb, burn incense and pray.”
Sanzang dismounted sadly by the tomb in the wild;
The holy monk prayed by the desolate grave.
These were the words of his invocation:
I bow to you tough guys and ask you to hear my prayer. I am from the land of Tang in the East. At the command of Emperor Taizong I was going to the West to fetch the scriptures when I met you gentlemen here. I do not know what province, prefecture and county you came from to form your band in the mountains here. I spoke to you kindly and pleaded earnestly, but you paid no heed as you repaid good with wrath. Then you encountered Sun the Novice, who killed you with his cudgel. Out of consideration for your bodies left lying in the open I had them buried and a mound piled over them. I broke off some bamboo to serve instead of incense and candles; although they give no light, they come from a sincere heart. Only stones can I offer in place of food: they have no flavor, but they are given in honest faith. When you reach the Underworld to lodge your complaint and look for the roots of your misfortune, remember that his surname is Sun and mine is Chen: they are different. Know who it was who wronged you, just as you would know a debtor, and do not bring a case against the monk who is going to fetch the scriptures.
“You've shuffled off all the blame,” said Pig with a laugh. “We two weren't there either when Monkey killed them.”
Sanzang then picked up another pinch of earth and prayed again. “Tough guys, when you bring your case you must only indict Sun the Novice. It was nothing to do with Pig or Friar Sand.”
When Monkey heard this he could not help laughing as he replied, “Master, you've got no finer feelings at all. Goodness knows what efforts I've been to so that you can fetch your scriptures, but now that I've killed those two bandits you tell them to go and bring a case against me. It's true that I did kill them, but it was only for you. If you hadn't set out to fetch the scriptures and I hadn't become your disciple I'd never have come here and killed them. I'm damned if I don't invoke them, too.”
He took his iron cudgel, pounded the grave three times, and said, “Listen to me, pox-ridden bandits. You hit me seven or eight times, then seven or eight times again; you didn't hurt me or even tickle me at all, but you did make me lose my temper. One misunderstanding led to another and I killed you. You can bring a case against me wherever you like-I'm not scared. The Jade Emperor knows me. The Heavenly Kings do as I say. The Twenty-eight Constellations are afraid of me. The Nine Bright Shiners, the star lords, are scared of me. The city gods of counties and prefectures kneel to me; the God of the Eastern Peak Who Is Equal to Heaven is terrified of me. The Ten Kings of the Underworld used to be my servants. The Five Fierce Gods were once my juniors. The five Commanders of the Three Worlds and the Officers of the Ten Directions are all my very good friends. So go and bring your case wherever you like.”