Journey 021: Wind Power
Sun Wukong’s rescue plan hits a snag when he discovers that his foe really blows.
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Transcript
Welcome to the Chinese Lore Podcast, where I retell classic Chinese stories in English. This is episode 21 of Journey to the West.
Last time, while crossing a mountain called Yellow Wind Ridge, the pilgrims hit a snag when San Zang fell into the clutches of a demon named Lord Yellow Wind, who was going to eat him. San Zang’s two disciples, Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie, found the demon’s cave and killed Yellow Wind’s vanguard general. Then Wukong went back to the cave to take on Yellow Wind himself.
Yellow Wind came out with his gaggle of lackeys and shouted, “Which one is Sun Wukong?!”
Wukong was like, umm, I’m the only one here. “I am your Grandaddy Sun!” he shouted back. “Send my master out at once!”
Yellow Wind sized up Wukong’s slight frame and chuckled, “Oh pity! I thought you were some stout hero; turns out you’re a sick skeleton!”
“Son, you must be blind!” Wukong laughed back. “Your grandaddy may be small, but if you hit me on the head with your trident handle, I will grow 3 feet.”
“Well then, hold your head up and take this!” Yellow Wind said as he raised the handle of his trident and brought it down on Wukong’s head. Wukong didn’t even flinch, and when the handle hit his head, he indeed sprouted 3 feet.
Yellow Wind was stunned. “Sun Wukong, why are you playing around with this defensive trick? Come and show me your fighting skills!”
“Oh son,” Wukong chuckled. “As the old saying goes, ‘If you want to show mercy, then hold back your hand; but if you raise your hand, then show no mercy.’ Your grandaddy’s attacks are really powerful. I worry you can’t take a blow from my rod.”
But Yellow Wind blew off that warning and stabbed at Wukong with his trident. Wukong was entirely unconcerned. He raised his rod and, with a move called “Black Dragon Sweeping the Land”, parried the strike and swung at Yellow Wind. The two now went back and forth. They fought for 30-some exchanges without a winner.
Wukong was eager to finish the fight, so he pulled off a handful of his own hairs, chewed them up, sprayed them out, and shouted, “Change!” The hairs morphed into more than 100 clones of Sun Wukong. They were all dressed alike and each wielded a steel rod as they encircled Yellow Wind.
The demon was intimidated, so he, too, pulled out a trick. He turned toward the Southeast, opened his mouth three times, and blew out a breath. All of a sudden, a wild yellow gale whipped up. It was so strong that it would’ve struck fear into the hearts of gods, and it sent all the Sun Wukong doppelgangers swirling in the air.
Wukong quickly retracted all his hairs and charged toward Yellow Wind alone. But before he could get close, Yellow Wind blew another gust of yellow wind right in his face. It was so strong that it agitated Wukong’s fiery-golden eyes. Remember, Wukong got those fiery-golden eyes from the days he spent roasting in Laozi’s sacred oven. He got supernatural vision out of it, but it also made his eyes susceptible to wind. And now, he couldn’t even open them, much less fight. So he beat a hasty retreat, while Yellow Wind went back into his cave.
Meanwhile, Wukong’s fellow disciple Zhu Bajie was staying with the horse and luggage in a canyon a little ways off. He saw a wild yellow wind blow through, darkening the heavens. He immediately hit the ground, covered his head, and closed his eyes while muttering prayers to Buddha. After a while, the wind died down and the sky cleared. He poked his head up and looked in the direction of the cave. He didn’t see any fighting, nor did he hear any drums or gongs. He was curious what happened, but he also didn’t dare to approach the cave. He also didn’t want to leave the horse and luggage. So he wasn’t quite sure what to do.
Now, here’s one of those spots where it would be helpful to remind everyone that, hey, your horse is actually a sentient dragon who 1) doesn’t need a babysitter, and 2) might be able to help a bit. But before we could dig too deep into that plot hole, Sun Wukong showed up from the West, shouting Bajie’s name. Bajie greeted him and asked where he was coming from.
“Never in my life have I seen such a strong wind!” Wukong exclaimed. “That demon fought me with a trident. After 30-some exchanges, I created some doppelgangers to surround him. He panicked and summoned this wind. What a vicious wind! I couldn’t even stand still. So I had to retreat. What a wind! I mean, I know how to summon the rain and wind, too, but not like this!”
“Brother, how were that demon’s fighting skills?” Bajie asked.
“Not bad. He’s pretty handy with the trident and fought me to a standstill. It’s just hard to beat him with that wind.”
“Then how can we rescue our master?”
“That can wait,” Wukong said. “We need to find an eye doctor first to treat my eyes.”
“What happened to your eyes?”
“That demon blew a gust of wind right in my face and made my eyes itch and tear up like crazy.”
“Brother, we’re on a mountain, and it’s late. We don’t even have anywhere to sleep, much less find an eye doctor.”
“It’s not hard to find lodging. I bet that demon won’t dare to harm our master yet. Let’s find the main road and find a household to seek lodging for the night. Then tomorrow morning, we can come back to tame that demon.”
Bajie agreed, so he picked up the luggage and took the horse’s reins. The two left the canyon and traveled along the main road. As dusk approached, they heard the sound of dogs barking from the southern slope of the ridge. They went that way and found a manor with some candle lights within. They went up to the manor and saw that it sat within some serene, lush woods. They called out, and an old man, accompanied by a few younger farmhands, came out with rakes and pitchforks in hand to see who it was.
Wukong bowed and said, “We’re disciples of a sage monk from the Great Tang Kingdom in the East. We were heading West to see the Buddha and request scriptures. When passing through this mountain, that Lord Yellow Wind abducted our master. We haven’t been able to save him. It was getting late, so we came to ask for lodging for just one night. Please help us out.”
“Oh, greetings!” the old man said courteously. “This is a remote place. So when you called out, we were afraid it was demons, wild beasts, or bandits. That’s why we showed up like this. We didn’t realize you were monks. Please come in.”
So Wukong and Bajie entered. They hitched the horse, set down their luggage, and sat down with their host. The old man served them tea and a few bowls of sesame rice. After that, he told his farmhands to prepare beds for their guests.
“Sleep is no concern,” Wukong said, “but benefactor, is there anyone in this area who sells eye medicine?”
“Which one of you has an eye ailment?” the old man asked.
“To tell you the truth, we monks are naturally free of illness and don’t have any eye ailments.”
“Then why do you need eye medicine?”
“When we were trying to save our master at Yellow Wind Cave today, that demon blew a gust of wind at me and made my eyes itch and tear up. They won’t stop watering, so I need to find some medicine.”
“Mercy, mercy!” the old man said. “Elder, you’re not that old, so why do you lie? That Lord Yellow Wind wields the most vicious winds. It’s not a normal wind.”
Bajie chimed in and asked, “So it’s like a Brain Pinch Wind, a Sheep Ear Wind, a Great Hemp Wind, or a One-Sided Head Wind?”
And by the way, those were colloquial terms for a headache, an ear ailment, leprosy, and migraine. But the old man said, “No. He wields something called the Three-Flavor Divine Wind.”
“What is it?” Wukong asked.
“That wind can block out heaven and earth, and make gods and ghosts tremble, can shatter rocks and cliffs, and can blow someone to death. If you encountered his wind, how could you still be alive? Unless you’re gods or immortals, you must be lying.”
“No, that’s just it. We may not be gods or immortals, but they are our descendants,” Wukong said. “The wind didn’t kill me, but it made my eyes itch and water.”
“Ah, so you must have some skills,” the old man said. “There’s no one around here who sells eye medicine, but my eyes also tear up a bit when winds blow. I once encountered an uncommon man who gave me a prescription called the Three Flowers and Nine Seeds Ointment. It can treat all types of watery eyes caused by wind.”
Wukong now bowed and asked for some of this very convenient and purpose-specific ointment. The old man went into the back and came out with a small jug. He opened the stopper and used a jade pin to scoop out some ointment and spreaded it on Wukong’s eyes. He told Wukong to keep his eyes closed and go to sleep, and that his eyes will feel better in the morning. He then packed up the jug and led his farmhands out, leaving their guests to rest.
Bajie now opened their bundle, spread out their blankets and asked Wukong to sleep. Wukong, with his eyes closed, groped around. Bajie chuckled, “Hey Mr., where is your walking stick?”
“You idiot!” Wukong scoffed. “Stop treating me like I’m blind!”
Bajie quietly snickered under his breath and went to sleep. Wukong sat down on his bed, meditated for a while, and only lay down after midnight.
When 5 a.m. rolled around, Wukong felt his face and opened his eyes. “What great medicine! I can see so much better now!” he exclaimed. He then turned and looked around and … umm … where did the house go? Instead of the manor, they were sleeping on lichen-covered ground under a cluster of tall trees.
Bajie now woke up and grumbled, “Brother, what are you going on about?”
“Open your eyes and take a look!”
Bajie sat up, saw where they were, and scrambled to his feet.
“Where’s our horse?”
“He’s hitched to the tree.”
“And our luggage?”
“Next to your head.”
“What’s up with those people? If you were going to move, you could’ve at least given us a holler. Hell, I could’ve given you a little tea or fruits as a housewarming gift. They must owe taxes and were afraid the village head would find out, so they moved in the middle of the night. Hmm, we must’ve been out like a light. How come we didn’t even hear anything while they were tearing down their house?”
Wukong laughed out loud and said, “Dum-dum, stop your nonsense. Go check out that piece of paper on the tree.”
Bajie went over, pulled off the paper, and saw that there were four lines written on it. They said:
This manor is no mortal home.
It’s the abode of Dharma guardians and temple spirits.
I offer you a wondrous medicine to heal your eye pain—
Give your all to subdue the demon; do not hesitate.
“Ah, that group of guardian spirits,” Wukong said. “I hadn’t called them since we got the dragon horse, but they’ve shown up unsummoned.”
“Brother, stop acting like a big shot!” Bajie scoffed. “Why would they listen to your summon?”
“Brother, you don’t understand. These guardians were commanded by the Bodhisattva to protect our master in secret. They introduced themselves once before. But ever since we added you, we hadn’t needed them, so I haven’t summoned them.”
“Well, since they were ordered to protect our master in secret, that must be why they couldn’t show their true form. So they created the fake manor. Don’t hold it against them. Besides, last night they treated your eyes and fed us dinner. They’ve done their duty. Let them be, and let’s go save our master.”
“You’re quite right. We’re not far from the Yellow Wind Cave. You just stay here in the woods and guard the horse and luggage. Let me go to the cave to find news on our master. And then we can fight the demon again.”
“Ok, I’ll wait here,” Bajie said. “But you have to find out for sure whether master is alive or dead. If he’s dead, then we should go our separate ways. But if he’s not dead, then we must do our utmost.”
“Cut it out with your speculations,” Wukong said. “I’m off.”
So he flew to the cave and found guards out front. So he transformed into a tiny mosquito. In front of the doors, he found a demon lackey snoring away. Wukong landed on his face and bit him. The lackey turned and moaned, “Ow! Some big mosquito left a huge bite on my face!”
But then, he saw that it was light out, so he opened the doors to the cave, which allowed Wukong to enter. Inside the cave, he saw Yellow Wind instructing his lackeys to maintain a tight watch and prepare their weapons, telling them, “I worry that wind yesterday didn’t kill Sun Wukong. If so, he will come back for sure today. When he does, I will finish him off.”
Wukong now flew through the main hall and into the back of the cave. There, he saw a tightly shut door, but he found a crack and slipped through. On the other side of the door was a large, empty courtyard. On a column by the wall, he saw his master, San Zang, tightly bound and weeping as he wondered where his disciples went.
Wukong now landed on San Zang’s bald head and called out to him. San Zang recognized his voice and said, “Wukong, I’ve been thinking about you nonstop! Where are you?”
“I’m on your head, master. Don’t worry, and don’t be impatient. We must capture the demon before we can save you.”
“But when will you be able to apprehend the demon?”
“Bajie has already killed the tiger demon that abducted you. But the demon leader’s wind powers are a handful. Still, I should be able to take him down today. Don’t worry, and don’t cry. I’m off.”
As Wukong flew back into the front of the cave, he saw Yellow Wind doing a roll call with his various lackey leaders. Then, a lackey rushed in and reported, “My lord, I was out on patrol. I had barely left the cave when I saw a monk with a long snout and huge ears sitting in the woods. If I hadn’t been quick on my feet, he would’ve caught me. But I didn’t see that hairy-faced monk from yesterday.”
“Hmm, so Sun Wukong isn’t around? He must’ve been killed by the wind yesterday. Or he might’ve gone off to find reinforcements.”
The lackeys said, “If the wind killed him, then we’re in luck. But if he didn’t die and comes back with a divine army, what would we do?”
“Who’s afraid of divine armies?” Yellow Wind scoffed. “Only the Bodhisattva Lingji (2,2) can counter my wind. No one else is of any concern.”
Why, how very tropey of you to loudly mention the one person that can defeat you. Wukong got what he came for, so he flew out of the cave, reverted to his true form, and returned to the forest. He met up with Bajie, who recounted how he had just chased off a demon lackey.
Wukong laughed and said, “It’s all thanks to you! I turned into a mosquito and went into the cave to find our master. He’s tied up against a column and weeping. I told him to stop crying. Then I sat on a beam and listened. That lackey rushed in and reported about how you chased him but that he didn’t see me. Yellow Wind was guessing that I might’ve gone to find reinforcements, and then he let slip a name.”
“Who?”
“He said only the Bodhisattva Lingji can quell his wind. But where does Lingji live?”
As they were talking, an old man suddenly approached along the main road. Bajie said, “Brother, as the saying goes, ‘If you want to know the way off the mountain, you must ask a passer-by.’ Go ask him.”
So Wukong put away his rod, tidied up his clothes, went up to the old man and said, “Old sir, how are you?”
The old man half-heartedly returned his greetings and asked, “Monk, where are you from? What are you doing here in the wilderness?”
“We are scripture pilgrims. Yesterday we lost our master. So I’ve come to ask you if you know where the Bodhisattva Lingji resides.”
“Lingji lives about 2,000 miles due South of here. There’s a mountain called Little Mount Sumeru. There’s a Dharma hall in the mountain. That’s the temple where the Bodhisattva teaches Buddhism. Are you all going to ask for his scriptures?”
“No, but I have a request for him. How do I get there?” Wukong asked.
The old man pointed south and said, “Just follow this winding path.”
While Wukong looked in the direction he pointed in, the old man suddenly morphed into a clear breeze and vanished. In his wake, there was only a piece of paper with four lines of verse, which said:
A word for the Great Sage Equal to Heaven:
I am Li (3) Changgeng (2,1).
On Mount Sumeru there is the Flying Dragon Staff.
Lingji once received this sacred Buddhist weapon.
Wukong took the paper and started down the path. Bajie asked, “Brother, what bad luck! It’s like we’ve been seeing ghosts the last couple days. Who was that old man that vanished into the wind?”
Wukong handed him the letter. Bajie read it and wondered aloud, “Who is this Li Changgeng?”
“That’s Venus’s name,” Wukong explained.
Bajie immediately fell to his knees and kowtowed toward the sky, declaring, “Savior! Savior! If Venus hadn’t spoken out on my behalf to the Jade Emperor, my life would’ve been forfeit!”
So, if you remember from a couple episodes back when we were recounting Zhu Bajie’s backstory, Venus was the one who pleaded for mercy on Bajie’s behalf when the latter had his MeToo scandal. Thanks to Venus, he got off with … umm … a severe beating and being cast out of heaven and into a pig’s womb.
Anyway, Wukong now told Bajie, “Don’t show yourself. Just hide in the woods and keep watch over the horse and luggage. Let me go to Mount Sumeru to ask the Bodhisattva for help.”
“Will do. Just hurry. I’ll act like a turtle for now and keep my head tucked in.”
So Wukong took to the air and flew toward the South. In the blink of an eye, he had arrived on a tall mountain, enveloped in colorful clouds and mist. In a crevice in the mountain, he found the temple, from which the sounds of bell echoed and the smoke of incense drifted.
Wukong went to the entrance and saw a Daoist wearing a string of beads around his neck and muttering Buddhist scripture. Wukong greeted him, and he returned the greeting and asked where he’s from.
“Is this where the Bodhisattva Lingji teaches?” Wukong asked.
“Indeed. What do you need?” the Daoist asked.
“May I trouble you to announce me? I am Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven and a disciple of the Hierarch San Zang, an imperial brother of the emperor of the Great Tang Kingdom in the East.”
The Daoist chuckled, “Sir, I can’t remember all that.”
“Then just say the Tang monk’s disciple Sun Wukong.”
The Daoist announced him as instructed, and the Bodhisattva Lingji came out to greet him, cloaked in a cassock and holding incense. And by the way, as far as I could find, it seems this Lingji was a creation of the novel, and there doesn’t seem to be a real equivalent for him in the real Buddhist canon.
Anyway, once they sat down, Lingji offered tea, but Wukong said, “Forget the tea, my master is in trouble at Yellow Wind Mountain, so I have come to ask you to use your great powers to tame the demon and save my master.”
Lingji replied, “I was commanded by the Buddha to tame the Yellow Wind Demon. The Buddha gave me a Wind-Calming Pearl and a Flying Dragon Staff. I had captured him, but I spared his life and allowed him to live in seclusion on the condition that he not harm the living. Who knew he would disobey that command and try to harm your master. It’s my fault.”
Lingji now tried to ask Wukong to stay for a meal before resuming his mission, but Wukong was understandably in a hurry. So Lingji fetched his Flying Dragon Staff and flew with Wukong back to Yellow Wind Ridge.
“Great Sage,” Lingji said, “That demon is a bit afraid of me. So I’ll stay up here in the clouds. You go and lure him out to fight, and then I can use my powers.”
So Wukong descended, took out his rod, and smashed the doors to the cave, shouting, “Demon! Return my master!”
The lackeys at the door rushed inside to report, and Yellow Wind was irate. “That damn monkey is too rude!” he cursed. “He even smashed my door! This time, I’m going to kill him with my wind!”
So he donned his armor, grabbed his trident, and came out. He didn’t even bother trading insults this time, and instead just stabbed at Wukong. The two went at it for a few, and then Yellow Wind turned to his wind power again.
But just as he was about to summon his wind, Lingji cast down the Flying Dragon Staff from the air and muttered an incantation. The staff turned into a golden dragon with eight claws. It grabbed Yellow Wind by the head with its two front claws and banged him against the side of the cliff a few times, like the Hulk roughing up Loki. This smackdown forced Yellow Wind to show his true form, that of a yellow-furred mink.
Wukong now caught up to the mink and prepared to make a little roadkill with his rod, but Lingji stopped him.
“Great Sage, don’t kill him,” Lingji said. “I still need to take him to see the Buddha. He used to be a rodent at the foot of the Spirit Mountain that attained the Way. He stole some of the oil in the crystal chalice and dimmed the flames. Fearing that the guardians would catch him, he fled and became a demon here. The Buddha didn’t think he deserved the death penalty, so I was charged to capture him in the first place. But now he has offended you and tried to harm the Tang monk. I must take him to see the Buddha to receive his proper punishment. Only then will I have successfully completed my mission.”
So Wukong relented, and Lingji set off toward the West with the mink. Wukong then went to the woods and called for Zhu Bajie to come out with the horse and luggage. Bajie ran out and asked what happened. Wukong recounted how Lingji helped him, and then the two of them set off to save their master. They stormed into Yellow Wind Cave and killed all the demon lackeys. TS for those guys. I guess only those who steal from the Buddha deserve mercy.
In any case, Wukong and Bajie found San Zang in the back of the cave. They told him the whole story of how Lingji helped defeat Yellow Wind, and San Zang was immensely grateful. They then gathered up the vegetarian food items in the cave and had themselves a nice meal, surrounded by the corpses of all the slain demon lackeys. Then, they left the cave and resumed their journey West.
The pilgrims crossed over Yellow Wind Ridge in less than a day and found themselves on flat land as they continued their trek. The days passed quickly, summer turned into fall, and the weather started to cool.
One day, they came upon a wide, roaring river. San Zang called out from his saddle, “Pupils, look at how wide and fast that river is. I don’t see any boats. How can we cross it?”
“It really is a wild river!” Bajie agreed. “We can’t cross without a boat.”
Wukong soared into the air to size up the river, and even he was taken aback. “Master, this is really tough!” he said. “If it was just me, then all I have to do is twist and I’ll be on the other side. But it’s impossible for you to cross it.”
“I can’t even see the other side from here,” San Zang said. “How wide is it?”
“Maybe about 800 miles?” Wukong guessed.
“Brother, how can you guess its width?” Bajie asked.
“To tell you the truth, my eyes can see everything within a thousand miles. I couldn’t tell exactly how wide this river is from the air, but I could see it stretching out for 800 miles.”
San Zang now sighed with worry and turned his horse around. That was when he saw a stone tablet on the shore. The pilgrims gathered around and saw three large characters on it, which said, “Drifting Sand River.” There were also four smaller lines of inscription, which read:
The drifting sands, 800 wide,
The weak waters, 3,000 deep.
Goose feathers cannot float,
Reed flowers surely sink.”
Just as they were studying the tablet, the waves suddenly shot up like mountains and peaks, and an ugly demon shot out from the river. He had a head of wild red hair, two round eyes that glowed like lanterns, a blue-and-black face, and a voice that thundered like the roar of an ancient dragon. He wore a cape of yellow goose down, with two white strands of white reeds wrapped around his waist. Around his neck hung a necklace of nine human skulls, and in his hand was a Buddhist spade.
Well, this must be the welcome wagon. To see how the pilgrims will deal with this latest obstacle, tune in to the next episode of the Chinese Lore Podcast. Thanks for listening!
Music in This Episode
- “Luỹ Tre Xanh Ngát Đầu Làng (Guzheng) – Vietnam BGM” by VPRODMUSIC_Asia_BGM
- “The Quiet Aftermath by Sir Cubworth (from YouTube audio library)
- “Dark Toys” by SYBS (from YouTube audio library)
- “Loneliest Road in America (US 50)” by Jesse Gallagher (from YouTube audio library)