Journey 020: Skin of Evil

Journey 020: Skin of Evil

Journey 020: Skin of Evil

The pilgrims encounter a foe with a predilection for skinning himself.

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Welcome to the Chinese Lore Podcast, where I retell classic Chinese stories in English. This is episode 20 of Journey to the West.

Last time, our scripture pilgrims added a member to their traveling party when they took in Zhu Bajie the pig at Gao Family Village. So the master San Zang and his two disciples — or three if you count Little White Dragon, which the novel doesn’t — continued westward. One day, evening was starting to descend when they spotted a country hut on the side of a mountain road.

“Wukong, the fiery mirror of the sun has descended behind the western peaks, and the icy wheel of the moon is rising above the East Sea. Fortunately there’s a household here. Let’s ask for lodging for tonight and resume tomorrow.”

Zhu Bajie chimed in and said, “You’re right. And I’m getting hungry. We can beg for some food so I can replenish my strength to carry the luggage.”

Wukong, though, scolded him, “Are you homesick already? You’ve only been away from home for a few days, and you’re already grumbling!”

“Brother, I can’t survive on wind and smoke like you. Since I started following our master, I’ve been half-starved.”

When San Zang heard that, he told Bajie, “If you’re really missing home, then you can’t be a monk. You should go back.”

But Bajie hurriedly kneeled and said, “Master, don’t listen to elder brother’s nonsense. He’s making baseless accusations. I didn’t even complain, and yet he said I did. I’m a straightforward dummy. I was just saying that I was getting hungry and we should find a household to ask for food. And yet he said I was homesick. Master, I received the precepts from the Bodhisattva Guanyin, as well as your kindness. I am committed to serving you all the way to the West and would never have any regrets. This is what they call ‘Building cultivation through suffering.’ How can you say I’m not fit to be a monk?!”

That placated San Zang, and he told Bajie to get up. Bajie stood up, grumbled nonstop under his breath, and went to pick up the luggage again. The three of them now made their way to the hut, which stood under the shade of trees. San Zang dismounted, Wukong took hold of the horse’s reins, and Bajie put down the luggage. Holding his Buddhist staff, San Zang adjusted his cloak and went to the door. Inside the door, he saw an old man sitting on a bamboo bed, reciting scripture.

San Zang did not dare to speak loudly, so he softly called out, “Benefactor, greetings.”

The old man popped straight up out of his bed, tidied up his clothes, and rushed outside to greet San Zang, saying, “Elder, pardon me for not welcoming you sooner. Where are you coming from? What are you doing here?”

“I am a monk from the Great Tang kingdom in the East. On an imperial command, I am going to the Thunderclap Temple to see the Buddha and request scriptures. We were passing by your honorable estate when evening fell, so we would like to request lodging for a night. I hope you will do us this favor.”

The old man, however, shook his head and waved his hands, saying, “You can’t go. It’d be hard to fetch scriptures in the West. If you want scriptures, go East.”

San Zang didn’t say anything, but he wondered in his mind, “The bodhisattva directed me to go West. Why is this old man saying go East? Where in the East is there scripture?”

While San Zang stood there in awkward silence, Sun Wukong had lost his temper. He stepped forth and shouted, “Old man, how come you don’t know any better at your age? We’re monks on a long journey and we’re seeking lodging. Why are you trying to scare us with this nonsense? Even if your house is very small and has no place for us to sleep, we can just spend the night underneath your trees and won’t be in your way.”

The old man clutched San Zang and said, “Master, you haven’t even said anything, and yet your disciple, who looks like a red-eyed, pointy-snouted demon, is insulting me, an old man!”

Wukong chuckled, “Old man, you’re blind. Those who are handsome are all looks, no substance. As for me, I may be small, but I’m sturdy. I’m a bundle of muscles wrapped in skin.”

“You sound like you have some skills,” the old man said.

“I don’t dare to brag; I’m ok.”

“Where do you hail from? Why did you become a monk?”

“I used to live in the Water Curtain cave on Flower and Fruit Mountain on the ocean off the coast of the Eastern Continent. In my youth, I was a demon named Wukong. Based on my skills, I received the title Great Sage, Equal to Heaven. But because I refused my appointment, I rebelled against heaven and stirred up a whole heap of trouble for myself. Now, I’ve escaped my calamity and joined the Buddhist school in search of the proper path. I’m protecting my master as he goes West to see the Buddha. I have no fear of treacherous mountains or roaring rivers. And I can capture demons, tame ghosts, and subdue tigers and dragons. I can do a bit of everything. If you have any trouble in your abode, I can take care of it.”

The old man laughed aloud and said, “Turns out you’re a slick-tongued braggart monk.”

“You’re the one with the slick tongue. I’m tired from our travels, so I’m short on words.”

“If you weren’t too tired to talk, you’d talk me to death!” the old man joked. “Well, if you have such skills, then you can go West. How many are in your party? Please come in and rest.”

San Zang now said, “Thank you benefactor! There are three of us.”

“Where is the other one?” the old man asked.

“Old man, your eyes must be bad,” Wukong said. “He’s standing right there under the trees.”

The old man’s eyes were actually bad. He now looked up and focused his vision in the direction that Wukong pointed in. What he saw was a half-man, half-pig creature. The sight of Zhu Bajie scared him so much that he stumbled as he ran back toward the house and shouted to his family, “Shut the door! Shut the door! There are demons!”

Wukong caught up to him and grabbed hold of him, saying, “Old man, don’t be afraid. That’s no demon. That’s my younger Buddhist brother.”

“What, what an ugly monk!” the old man stammered.

Zhu Bajie now came forth and said, “Old sir, you would be wrong to judge someone by their appearance. Yes, we may be ugly, but we are all capable.”

While they were talking, another group approached from the South. These were two young men, along with an old woman and three or four small boys and girls. Their robes were tucked in and their feet were bare. They were the old man’s family, coming back from planting rice. When they saw the pilgrims’ horse and luggage, and the hubbub happening out front, they rushed forward to ask what’s up. Zhu Bajie turned around, and the sight of his big ears and long snout sent everyone scampering away in fear. San Zang had to keep telling everyone, “Don’t be afraid! Don’t be afraid! We’re not bad people. We’re monks on our way to fetch scripture.”

The old man now came back out, helped his wife to her feet, and told her, “Don’t be afraid. This elder is from the Tang kingdom. His disciples are a bit ugly, but they’re good people. Take our kids inside.”

Only now did the family go back inside. San Zang now sat down on the bamboo bed and nagged his two disciples, “You two have ugly faces and coarse tongues. You scared that whole family, and I’m the one who has to answer for it.”

Bajie retorted, “Master, to tell you the truth, I’ve actually cleaned up my act a lot since I started following you. Back when I was at the Gao Family Village, I would stick out my snout, shake my ears, and scare 20 or 30 people to death.”

Wukong laughed. “Dummy, stop your nonsense. Hide your ugly mug.”

But San Zang asked Wukong, “That’s the face he was born with. How would you have him hide it?”

“Just tuck his snout under his shirt and keep those ears tucked back.”

And sure enough, Zhu Bajie actually did as he suggested, tucking his ears back and sticking his snout inside his shirt as he stood next to San Zang. Wukong, meanwhile, went to bring in the luggage and hitch the horse.

Now, the old man and one of his sons came in with a tray that held three cups of tea for his visitors. After tea, the old man told his son to go set up dinner. The young man set up an old table that had holes in it, and pulled up two rickety benches. He set these up in a cool spot in the courtyard and asked the visitors to sit down.

“Benefactor, what’s your honorable last name?” San Zang asked his host as they shot the breeze.

“My name is Wang.”

“And how many children do you have?”

“Two sons, three grandchildren.”

“And how old are you?”

“I have wasted 61 years.”

“Benefactor, you mentioned that it’s difficult to fetch scripture in the West. Why?”

The old man now explained, “Getting the scripture isn’t hard. But the journey is difficult. About 10 miles to the West of here, there is a mountain called the 800-Mile-Wide Yellow Wind Ridge. There are lots of demons there. That’s why I said it was hard. But since your disciple said he has lots of skills, then I guess you can still go.”

“No worries,” Wukong said. “With a disciple like me, no demon would dare to bother us.”

Just then, dinner was served as one of the old man’s sons brought out several bowls of rice. San Zang had barely raised his hand to utter a pre-meal prayer before Zhu Bajie had already swallowed a bowl of rice. Before the prayer was over, he had downed another three bowls.

“Look at this husk-munching fool!” Wukong teased. “He’s like a hungry ghost.”

The old man was actually kind of intrigued by this, and he said, “This elder must be really hungry. Bring out more rice.”

Well, he was going to regret that. Zhu Bajie devoured more than a dozen bowls of rice without even lifting his head, while San Zang and Wukong didn’t even eat two bowls between them. But Bajie was still hungry and asked for more. 

“I wasn’t prepared for this and didn’t make anything good, but please eat more,” the old man said.

While San Zang and Wukong both said they had had enough, Bajie just said, “Old man, what are you going on about? If you have more rice, just bring it.”

In the blink of an eye, Zhu Bajie had eaten all the rice in the house. He was still hungry, but there was no other food, so he had to content himself for the night, and they all went to bed.

The next morning, while Wukong prepared the horse and Bajie packed up the luggage, the old man asked his wife to prepare some hot water for the pilgrims to wash up. As the party took their leave, their host said, “If  you run into obstacles ahead, please do come back to our home.”

But Wukong replied, “Old man, don’t speak nonsense. We monks never turn back.”

And with that, the pilgrims resumed their journey. After traveling for half a day, they came upon the mountain that the old man had warned them about. It was in fact quite treacherous looking. Master and pupils now paused to take a closer look at the imposing obstacle in front of them. Suddenly, a wild gale whipped up.

“Wukong, the wind!” San Zang said with alarm.

“What of it? It’s just the weather.”

“But this is a vicious wind, not like normal winds.”

“How so?”

And here San Zang broke into verse to describe the wind. He said:

“Majestically surging, rustling and soaring,

Vast and boundless, it rises into the blue skies.

Crossing the ridge, only the roar of a thousand trees is heard;

Entering the forest, ten thousand trunks sway at its sight.

Willows by the shore shift with their roots,

Blossoms in the garden are blown off with leaves.

Fishing boats haul in their nets and tie down tightly,

Travelers’ vessels lower their sails and cast anchor.

Mid-journey, soldiers lose their way,

In the mountains, woodcutters struggle with their burdens.

Monkeys scatter through immortal orchards,

Deer flee through groves of rare blossoms.

Before cliffs, every cypress and juniper topples,

Below the ravine, pine and bamboo leaves wither.

Dust swirls and sand bursts in sprays,

Rivers turn and seas churn with crashing waves.

Bajie now grabbed hold of Wukong and said, “Brother, the wind is really strong! Let’s hide somewhere and wait it out.”

But Wukong chuckled, “Brother, you’re so useless! If you’re going to hide from a strong breeze, what are you going to do when you come face to face with demons?”

“Brother, haven’t you heard the saying, ‘Avoid lust and you will avoid enemies; dodge the wind and you will dodge arrows.’ It’s not going to hurt anything for us to find some shelter.”

“Hold on, let me grab a handful of this wind and smell it first,” Wukong said.

“Brother, you’re making stuff up again. How can you grab the wind and smell it? Even if you can grab it, it will dissipate immediately.”

But Wukong was like, yeah? Watch me! He let a gust of wind blow by, and then reached out and somehow grabbed the tail end of the wind and gave it a sniff. And what do you know, it had a stench.

“This really is a foul wind,” he said. “It must be the smell of a tiger or a demon. Something’s definitely not right.”

Before he finished talking, a fierce tiger suddenly leaped out from the hillside. San Zang was so scared that he tumbled out of his saddle and lay helplessly on the side of the road. But Zhu Bajie immediately tossed aside the luggage and pulled out his rake. Before Sun Wukong could get in on the action, Bajie shouted, “You beast! Come back here!” as he charged and swung his rake toward the tiger’s head. 

But the tiger suddenly stood straight up, grabbed hold of the skin on its own chest and, with a loud ripping sound, pulled off its own pelt. So now, we were looking at this upright tiger, with its bloody flesh exposed, and glowering with its sharp fangs and golden eyes.

“Slow down!” the tiger roared. “I am none other than the vanguard general for Lord Yellow Wind. On my lord’s command, I am patrolling the mountain to catch a few mortals for him to devour with his wine. Monk, where are you from? How dare you attack me with weapons?!”

“Damn beast!” Zhu Bajie cursed. “I figure you won’t recognize me. I am no mortal. I am a disciple of Hierarch San Zang, the imperial brother of the Tang emperor and a scripture pilgrim heading to the West. Scram as far as you can and make way. Don’t startle my master, and I will spare you life. But if you act up like you were doing, then my rake will show no mercy!”

The tiger demon was not impressed. He charged forward and swiped at Bajie’s face with his claws. Bajie dodged the attack and struck back with his rake. The demon had no weapon, so he turned and ran, with Bajie giving chase. But when the demon ran to the foot of the hill, he suddenly pulled out two bronze sabers from the rocks, turned, and attacked. The two now engaged in a dogged back-and-forth in front the hill.

The pilgrims encounter … yawn … another tiger. But wait! This one is smarter than your average cat.

Meanwhile, Wukong helped San Zang get up and said, “Master, don’t be afraid. Have a seat. Let me go help Bajie beat that demon, and then we can continue.”

So San Zang sat up and, while trembling, kept reciting that Heart Sutra he learned in the last episode from Master Crow’s Nest, which was supposed to protect him in times of trouble. Meanwhile, Wukong pulled out his golden rod and shouted, “Get him!” At the same time, Bajie was showing his prowess and getting the upper hand, sending the demon into retreat. Wukong and Bajie gave chase. As they closed in, the demon suddenly rolled on the ground and reverted to his true form. But of course, he was still a tiger, and Wukong and Bajie continued their pursuit.

Soon, they saw the tiger perched atop a rock in front of a cliff. They charged forward, and Wukong brought his rod down with all his might. But when the rod struck the tiger, the reverb was so strong that it made his hands hurt. Bajie joined in the action by sinking his rake into the tiger, only to discover that it was just the tiger’s pelt.

So, as it turns out, this tiger was a tricky one. When he saw Wukong and Bajie closing in, he pulled off his own skin again and laid it on top of a rock. While his pursuers closed in on the decoy, he turned into a wild wind and flew back to the road, where San Zang was all alone. The tiger demon seized him and flew away. Well, so much for that Heart Sutra.

Moments later, the demon arrived back at his own cave with San Zang in tow. He ordered the demon lackeys, “Go tell our lord that his Tiger Vanguard has captured a monk and is awaiting his command.”

Soon, the demon lord summoned the Tiger Vanguard inside. So the tiger presented San Zang with both hands, saying, “My lord, I was patrolling the mountain as you ordered when I ran into a monk. He’s Hierarch San Zang, imperial brother of the Tang emperor, heading to the West to see the Buddha and fetch scripture. I’ve captured him for you to consume.”

His demon master, Lord Yellow Wind, was surprised. “I had heard that San Zang is a sage monk heading to fetch scripture on an imperial edict. He has a disciple named Sun Wukong who is extremely powerful and smart. How did you capture him?”

“He actually had two disciples,” the Tiger Vanguard reported. “The first one was wielding a rake and had a long snout and big ears. The other one was wielding a golden rod and had fiery golden eyes. They were chasing me, but I gave them the slip and captured this monk to present to you for a feast.”

But Yellow Wind said, “Let’s not eat him yet.”

“But my lord, it’s bad luck to not eat when there’s food.”

“You don’t understand. Eating him is no big deal. But I worry that his two disciples will come here and cause a ruckus. Tie him up against the Wind-Quelling Column in the back for now. After three to five days, if his disciples don’t come bother us, then we can clean him up and enjoy him at our own leisure, to our heart’s content, whether we steam him, fry him, or stir fry him.”

The Tiger Vanguard was delighted and said, “My lord, you truly have keen foresight. Little ones, take the monk away.”

So a gaggle of demon lackeys now rustled San Zang to the back and tied him up. As he languished there, he wept and lamented, “My pupils, where did you run off to in pursuit of demons? And now I’ve been captured by the demon lord. When would I see you again? Woe! If you get here soon, you might still be able to save me. But if you delay, then my life is forfeit!”

While San Zang was moaning and groaning in the demons’ cave, his disciples had realized they had been duped. They rushed back to where they left San Zang, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Crap! Master has been captured by the demons!” Now what?!” Wukong roared like thunder.

At that, Bajie wept and said, “Oh god! Where would we go to find him?”

“Don’t cry; don’t cry!” Wukong told him. “Crying makes one demoralized. They must be somewhere on this mountain. Let’s go look around.”

So the two of them rushed into the mountain. After a long while, they spotted a cave beneath a cliff. They got closer and saw that it was indeed a treacherous looking abode.

Wukong now told Bajie, “Go hide the luggage in the canyon and let the horse loose, but don’t show your face here. Let me go fight them first. I will capture that demon for sure. Only then can we save our master.”

“No need to give me instructions; just hurry up,” Bajie said.

So Wukong tidied up his outfit, grabbed his rod, and stormed to the front doors of the cave. On the door were written six characters: Yellow Wind Ridge, Yellow Wind Cave.

Standing straight with weapon in hand, Wukong shouted, “Demon! Send my master out at once, or you’ll make me turn over your lair and flatten your home!”

The demon lackeys ran inside in fear and told their lord that a hairy-faced monk with a huge rod was outside, demanding the return of his master. Yellow Wind was alarmed and said to the Tiger Vanguard, “When I told you to go on patrol, I meant go catch some wild oxen, feral pigs, fat deer, or mountain goat. Why did you bring me that Tang monk?! Now his disciple is here looking for trouble. What now?”

“My lord, rest easy. I will take 50 little demons and go capture that Sun Wukong for us to eat.”

“Well, aside from my senior and junior chieftains, I have about 700 soldiers,” Yellow Wind said. “Pick whomever you want. Only after you capture that Sun Wukong can we eat that monk without worry. Then, I will become sworn brothers with you. I just worry that you won’t be able to capture him and that he might injure you. If that happens, don’t blame me.”

“Don’t worry! I’ll be right back,” the Tiger Vanguard reassured him. He then rounded up 50 stout demon lackeys. With his men waving banners and beating drums, the Tiger Vanguard bounded outside with his twin sabers and shouted, “Monkey monk! Where the hell did you come from? How dare  you cause a ruckus here?”

“You damn skinned beast!” Wukong cursed. “You used trickery to abduct my master. How dare you question me instead? Send my master out right now, and I’ll spare you!”

“That’s right, I did capture your master. He’s slated to be my lord’s meal. You should just go on home. Otherwise, when I capture you, we will eat you both. Then it would be a “Buy one get one free” special.”

Wukong was irate. He gritted his teeth, glowered, and shouted, “You’ve gone too far, to boast like this! Taste my rod!”

The two now started trading blows, but within just a few exchanges, the Tiger Vanguard proved to be no match and turned and ran. Well, since he had bragged in front of his lord, he now did not dare to run back into his cave. Instead, he ran up the hillside. Wukong kept up a hot pursuit. The chase led them into the canyon where Zhu Bajie was presently letting the horse loose to graze. When he heard shouts coming nearer, Bajie looked up and saw the Tiger Vanguard fleeing this way. So he ditched the horse, raised his rake, and clubbed the demon right on his head. That left nine holes in the Tiger Vanguard’s head, and the demon’s brains and blood poured out until he expired.

But Bajie wasn’t done. He stepped on the corpse with one foot and ravaged the remains with his rake. When Wukong came upon the scene, he was delighted.

“Brother, that’s the one I was chasing. He came out with a few dozen little demons and dared to fight me. I beat him, and instead of fleeing into his cave, he ran here to meet his end. Good thing you intercepted him; otherwise, he would’ve gotten away again.”

“So he’s the one that swept our master away with the wind?”

“Exactly.”

“Did you ask him where our master is?”

“He stashed our master in the cave, to be served to some two-bit demon lord for food. I got pissed and chased him here, and you finished him off. Brother, you get the credit for this one. Now, stay with the horse and luggage, and I’ll take this demon’s corpse back to the cave to demand another fight. I have to capture their leader in order to save our master.”

“You’re right. Go, go. If you can beat that demon lord, chase him to here again, and I’ll kill him, too!”

So Wukong now went back to the cave entrance, gripping his rod in one hand and dragging the dead tiger in the other. Meanwhile, the 50 demon lackeys who had accompanied the Tiger Vanguard out had rushed back inside to tell Yellow Wind that his vanguard general was no match for Sun Wukong and had fled down the east slope of the mountain. Yellow Wind was brooding over this news when suddenly, the lackey guarding the front doors reported, “My lord, that hairy-faced monk killed the Tiger Vanguard and is outside demanding combat.”

“That scoundrel has gone too far!” Yellow Wind said angrily. “I haven’t eaten his master yet, but he’s gone and killed my vanguard general. So despicable! Bring me my armor. I’ve always just heard of Sun Wukong. Let me go outside and see what he’s got. Then I’ll capture him and avenge the Tiger Vanguard.”

So his demon lackeys helped Yellow Wind get into his armor. He then grabbed his weapon, a three-pronged pitchfork, and led his gaggle of demons outside. Sun Wukong was waiting, and he saw that the oncoming demon lord wore a suit of golden armor and a golden helmet topped with pheasant feathers. He donned a pale yellow robe, deerskin boots, a glowing breastplate mirror, and a brocade apron with willowy velvet trim. 

To see who will win this showdown, tune in to the next episode of the Chinese Lore Podcast. Thanks for listening!

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