“Spare us, spare us,” they said. The seventy little Monkeys then pressed the seven spiders to the ground, refusing to let them go.

“Don't hit them,” said Monkey. “All we want is to make them give my master and my brothers back.”

“Elder Brother,” shrieked the demons at the tops of their voices, “give the Tang Priest back and save our lives.”

The Taoist master rushed outside saying, “Sisters, I'm going to eat the Tang Priest. I can't save you.”

This infuriated Brother Monkey. “If you won't give my master back just watch what happens to your sisters.” The splendid Great Sage waved his fork, turned it back into an iron cudgel that he lifted with both hands and smashed the seven spider spirits to pulp. Then he shook his tail a couple of times, put the hairs back on it and charged inside alone, swinging his cudgel to fight the Taoist master.

When the Taoist master saw Monkey kill his seven fellow-students it was more than he could bear. Goaded to fury, he raised his sword to fight back. In this battle each of them was seething with anger and giving full play to his divine powers. It was a fine battle:

The evil spirit swung a fine sword;

The Great Sage raised his gold-banded cudgel.

Both were fighting for Sanzang of the Tang,

On whose account the seven women had been killed.

Now they were fighting with all-round skill,

Showing their mighty powers with their weapons.

Powerful was the Great Sage's aura,

And rough the courage of the evil immortal.

Their vigorous moves were as rich as brocade,

And both hands moved as fast as a windlass.

Noisily clanged the sword and cudgel,

And ominously pale were the floating clouds.

Few were the words they spoke

As they used their cunning,

Moving to and fro like brush-strokes in a painting.

The wind and dust they raised scared wolves and tigers;

The stars disappeared as heaven and earth went dark.

When the Taoist master had fought fifty or sixty rounds with the Great Sage he felt his hand weakening and his sinews getting slack, so he undid his belt and with a loud flapping noise took off his black robe. “Well, my lad,” said the Great Sage with a laugh, “if you can't beat me you still won't be able to when you strip off.” Once the Taoist master had stripped off his clothes he raised both hands to reveal under his ribs a thousand eyes flashing golden light. It was terrible:

Dense yellow smoke,

Brilliant golden light.

The dense yellow smoke

Gushed out as clouds from under his ribs;

The brilliant golden light

Came from a thousand eyes like fire.

To left and right they seemed like golden pails;

To East and West they resembled bells of bronze.

Thus an evil immortal used his magic power,

A Taoist master showed divine ability,

Dazzling the eyes, blotting out sun, moon and sky,

Blanketing people with acrid vapors.

The Great Sage Equaling Heaven

Was caught in the golden light and yellow smoke.

Monkey started lashing out desperately with his hands and feet, but could only spin around inside the golden light, unable to take a step either forwards or backwards. It was as if he were turning round and round in a bucket. It was hopeless. He was unbearably hot. In his anxiety he leapt into the air, smashing against the golden light, and crashing head first to the ground. His head ached where he had hit it, and felt anxiously to find that the top of his scalp was tender.

“What lousy luck,” he though, “what lousy luck. This head's useless today. Usually swords and axes can't hurt it, so why has golden light bruised it now? After a while it's bound to go septic, and even if it does get better I might have tetanus.” He was still feeling unbearably hot. “I can't move forward or back,” he thought, working out a plan, “or to left or right, and I can't smash my way through by going up. Whatever shall I do? I'll damn well have to get out by going down.”

The splendid Great Sage said the words of a spell, shook himself, and turned into one of those scaly diggers called pangolins. Indeed:

Four sets of iron claws

Dug through the mountain, smashing rocks like powder.

The scales covering his body

Carved through ridges and crags like slicing scallions.

His eyes were as bright

As two gleaming stars;

His mouth was sharper

Than a steel drill or brazen auger.

He was the scaly mountain-borer used in medicine,

The creature known as the pangolin.

Watch him as he burrows into the ground with his head, not coming out again till he has covered over six miles. The golden light could only enclose about three miles. When he emerged and turned back into himself he was exhausted. His muscles ached, his whole body was in pain, and he could not help weeping. Suddenly he burst out with, “Master,

Since leaving the mountain and joining the faith

I've worked very hard on our way to the West.

The waves of the ocean are nothing to fear,

But in this dry gulch I've come out second best.”

Just as the Handsome Monkey King was feeling miserable the sound of sobs could suddenly be heard from the other side of the mountain. Leaning forward and drying his tears he turned to look. A woman appeared, dressed in deep mourning and sobbing at every step as she came from the other side of the mountain. She was holding a dish of cold rice gruel in her left hand and several pieces of yellow paper money for burning to the dead in her right. Monkey sighed and nodded as he said to himself, “This is a case of

Weeping eyes meeting weeping eyes,

One broken heart coming across another.

I wonder what this woman is crying about. I'll ask her.” Before long the woman was coming along the path towards him.

“Lady Bodhisattva,” asked Brother Monkey with a bow, “who are you weeping for?”

Through her tears the woman replied, “My husband was murdered by the master of the Yellow Flower Temple with poisoned tea because he got into a quarrel with him over the purchase of some bamboo poles. I'm going to burn this paper money as a mark of my love for him.”

This made Monkey's tears flow. The sight made the woman say angrily, “You ignorant fool. I'm grieving over my husband, but what business do you have to be weeping and looking so miserable? Are you mocking me?”

“Please don't be angry, Bodhisattva,” said Monkey with a bow. “I'm Sun Wukong the Novice, the senior disciple of Tang Sanzang, the younger brother of the Great Tang Emperor in the East. When we passed the Yellow Flower Temple on our way to the Western Heaven we stopped to rest, but the Taoist master there is some kind of evil spirit who's the sworn brother of seven spider spirits. When the spider spirits wanted to kill my master in Gossamer Cave I and my brother disciples Pig and Friar Sand managed to save him. The spider spirits fled to the Taoist's place and told him a pack of lies about us bullying them, so the Taoist knocked out my master and brothers. The three of them and the horse are now prisoners in his temple. I was the only one who didn't drink the tea. I smashed the cup and he attacked me. Because of the noise the seven spider spirits rushed outside to give out their silken ropes and catch me in the web they wove. I only got away by magic. After I'd found out who they really were I used my power of giving myself extra bodies to tear the silken ropes to pieces, drag the demons out and beat them to death. The Taoist master wanted revenge, so he went for me with his sword. When we'd gone sixty rounds he fled beaten, took off his clothes, and used the thousand eyes he has under his ribs to give off countless beams of golden light. I was caught under them, unable to move forwards or backwards, so I turned into a pangolin and burrowed my way out underground. It was when I was feeling thoroughly depressed that I heard you weeping, which was why I asked you those questions. When I saw that you had paper money to give your husband I felt wretched and miserable because I've got nothing for my master when he dies. Making fun of you was the last thing on my mind!”