Journey 063: Scorched Earth
The pilgrims encounter a problem that can be solved with the wave of a fan, but things get complicated when Sun Wukong finds out who owns that fan.
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Transcript
Welcome to the Chinese Lore Podcast, where I retell classic Chinese stories in English. This is episode 63 of Journey to the West.
Last time, Sun Wukong had to go all the way to the Buddha to pin down his doppelganger’s true identity as the Six-Eared Macaque. And then he wasted little time in making sure there would be no further doppelganger silliness by flattening the macaque with his rod. Next, he returned to San Zang, and Guanyin went with him to make peace between master and pupil. Soon, they arrived at the mountain hut where San Zang and company were staying.
Guanyin told San Zang, “The one who hit you a few days ago was a fake Sun Wukong, the Six-Eared Macaque. Fortunately, we found out, and he has been slain by Wukong. You must take Wukong back. There are still demons and dangers on your journey; you must have him protecting you if you are to reach the West to see the Buddha and fetch scripture. Don’t be angry at him anymore.”
San Zang kowtowed to her and pledged to obey her command and thanked her. Just then, a strong wind whipped up from the East, and Zhu Bajie descended with two bundles on his back. He kowtowed to Guanyin and said, “Yesterday I took leave of master and went to Flower and Fruit Mountain’s Water Curtain Cave to find our bundles. I indeed saw a fake Tang monk and a fake me. I killed them both, and they turned out to be monkeys. I went into the cave and found our bundles. Nothing is missing, so I came right back. How did things turn out with the two Sun Wukongs?”
Guanyin brought him up to speed, and Bajie was delighted at the outcome and thanked her profusely. The entire party of pilgrims then bowed to her to express their gratitude. After she took off for her abode, the pilgrims cleared the air among themselves, and once again were united in purpose and mind. They thanked their hosts, prepared their luggage and horse, and set out once more on the road West.
After some days on the road, the air started to get hot and humid. San Zang reined in his horse and said, “It’s autumn, so how could the weather be getting warmer again?”
“Master, you don’t understand,” Zhu Bajie said. “On the road West, there is a Surya Kingdom. It’s where the sun sets, and it’s called the End of Heaven. Every day around dusk, the king orders his men to go to the top of the city walls to blow horns and beat drums, and their din blends with the sound of the ocean’s waves. The sun itself is the true fire of the Great Yang. When it plunges into the West Sea, it’s like fire meeting water and creates a deafening sizzle. Without the din of the drums and horns to dilute this sound, it would be enough to kill the kids in the city. This place is so hot and humid. I think we must have arrived where the sun sets.”
But Sun Wukong broke into a laugh and said, “Dum-dum, stop your nonsense. We’re nowhere near the Surya Kingdom yet. And the way master dawdles, we wouldn’t reach it even if we had three lifetimes.”
“Brother, then why do YOU think it’s so hot here, if it’s not the place where the sun sets?” Bajie asked.
Sha Zeng chimed in, “Maybe the weather is acting up and that’s why it feels like summer in autumn.”.
As they were debating, they saw a manor on the side of the road. Its roofs were covered with red tiles, its walls were made from red bricks, and its doors were all painted red. Dismounting, San Zang told Wukong to inquire at the house as to why it’s so hot here.
Wukong put away his rod, tidied up his clothes, put on his most civil manners, and headed to the front door of the house. Suddenly, an old man walked out from inside. He wore a long robe of coarse kudzu cloth, neither quite yellow nor quite red. He donned a cool, dark blue, woven bamboo hat. He leaned on a knotted bamboo cane that was partly bent. On his feet were a pair of hemp shoes that were somewhat worn. His face had the color of burnished red copper, and his beard was as white as bleached silk. Long eyebrows of longevity arched over bright blue-green eyes, while his wide mouth revealed gleaming golden teeth.
The old man looked up and was startled by Wukong’s appearance. He gripped his bamboo cane and shouted, “What kind of strange man are you? Where did you come from? What are you doing at my door?!”
Wukong replied respectfully, “Old benefactor, don’t be afraid. I’m not a strange man. I am a scripture pilgrim sent from the Tang kingdom in the East to go West. There are four of us. We were passing through your honorable estate and noticed how hot it was. We didn’t know why, nor did we know the name of this place. So I’ve come to ask.”
The old man relaxed and laughed, “Elder, please don’t take offense. I didn’t recognize that you were a sage monk.”
“Oh no worries at all.”
“Which road is your master on?”
“He’s standing over there on the main road to the South, right there,” Wukong said as he pointed.
“Please invite him over,” the old man said.
Wukong was delighted by that invitation, so he waved his companions over. They approached and greeted the old man. He was surprised and delighted at San Zang’s handsomeness and the other two disciples’ odd appearances. He invited them inside his house and told his family to serve tea and prepare a meal. San Zang then got up and asked him why it was so hot around here.
“This place is called the Mountain of Flames,” the old man answered. “There are no seasons here. It’s always this hot all year round.”
“Where is this mountain? Does it block the way West?” San Zang asked.
“You can’t head West. That mountain is about 20 miles from here, and you have to pass it on your way West. But it’s 300 miles of flames. Not a single blade of grass grows around there. If you try to cross that mountain, even if you were made of bronze and iron, you would melt.”
San Zang was shocked by that answer. The color drained from his face, and he dared not ask about the mountain anymore. Just then, a young man pushing a red cart stopped by the door and shouted, “Rice cakes for sale!”
Wukong plucked a hair off himself, turned it into a copper coin, and gave it to the young man to buy a rice cake. The peddler took the coin, pulled back the cloth covering his cakes, and handed a piece to Wukong. Wukong took it in hand, and it was scorching hot, like a piece of charcoal from a firepit or a red hot nail from a cauldron.
“Hot, hot, hot,” Wukong said as he kept switching the rice cake from one hand to another. “This is too hot to eat!”
The peddler laughed and said, “If you’re afraid of the heat, you shouldn’t come here. Everything is this hot around here.”
“You really don’t know better,” Wukong shot back. “As the saying goes, ‘Without heat or cold, the five grains will not grow.’ If it’s always so hot here, where did you get the flour for this rice cake?”
“If you rice cake flour desire, you must with the Iron-Fan Immortal inquire,” the young man replied.
“What about this Iron-Fan Immortal?” Wukong asked.
“The Iron-Fan Immortal has a banana-leaf fan. If you can borrow it, then one wave of the fan will extinguish the fire. A second wave will bring wind. And a third wave will make it rain. We use that opportunity to plant and harvest so we can feed ourselves. Otherwise, not even a blade of grass would grow here.”
When he heard that, Wukong quickly turned and headed back inside. He handed the rice cake to San Zang and said, “Master, don’t worry, and don’t be impatient. Eat this cake and then I’ll explain.”
San Zang took the rice cake and offered it to the old man. The old man said, “We haven’t even presented you with tea or rice yet. How would we dare to eat your cake?”
Wukong laughed, “Old benefactor, no need to present us with tea or rice. But let me ask you this: Where does the Iron-Fan Immortal live?”
“Why do you ask?”
“The peddler told me just now that the Iron-Fan Immortal has a banana-leaf fan. If we can get it, then one wave would put out the fire, a second wave would bring wind, and a third wave would make it rain. That would allow you to plant and harvest. I want to ask the immortal for the fan so we can put out the fire and cross the mountain, and it would allow the people here to harvest their grains.”
“That may be the case, but you all don’t have any presents. That immortal likely wouldn’t come.”
“What present does he want?”
“The people here go make a request to the immortal every 10 years. We present four pigs, four sheep, flowers, seasonal fruits, chickens, geese, and good wine. We bathe in piety, and then go to the immortal’s mountain and ask the immortal to come here.”
“What’s that mountain called? How far away is it? Let me go ask for the fan.”
“That mountain is to the southwest. It’s called Jade Cloud Mountain. There is a divine cave on the mountain, called the Banana Leaf Cave. When the people here go to that mountain, a round trip takes a month. So it’s about 500 miles from here.”
“Oh that’s nothing; I’ll be right back,” Wukong laughed.
“Wait, have some tea and rice first, and prepare some dry provisions. You also need a couple people to accompany you. There are no households on the way, and there are many wild beasts. You can’t reach it in a day. Don’t joke around.”
“Nah, no need; I’m off,” Wukong said while laughing. And in the next instant, he had disappeared into the sky, leaving the old man stunned.
While the old man’s family tended to San Zang and company, Wukong darted to Jade Cloud Mountain and started scanning its slopes for a cave entrance. Suddenly, he heard the clanging sound of an ax and saw a woodcutter in a forest. Wukong went over and greeted him. The woodcutter put down his ax and asked where he was going.
“Brother, is this Jade Cloud Mountain?” Wukong asked.
“Indeed.”
“There should be an Iron-Fan Immortal’s Banana Leaf Cave around here. Where is it?”
The woodcutter laughed and replied, “There is such a cave, but there’s no Iron-Fan Immortal there, only a Princess Iron-Fan. She is also known as Rakshasi.”
“People say she has a banana leaf fan that can put out the fire on the Mountain of Flames. Is that her?”
“Exactly. That sage indeed has such a treasure. She can use it to extinguish the flames and protect the people around that mountain. That’s why she’s called the Iron-Fan Immortal. But here, we don’t need her fan, so we just call her Rakshasi. She’s the wife of the Bull Demon King.”
Ah crap!
Wukong was taken aback by that last bit of intel. He thought to himself, “Another enemy! When I subdued Red Boy, he said he was this Rakshasi’s son. And then at the Abortion Spring, I ran into her brother-in-law, and he refused to give me the spring water and seemed intent on avenging Red Boy. And now I’ve run into Red Boy’s parents. How can I borrow their fan?”
The woodcutter noticed Wukong lost in thought and looking troubled. He laughed and asked, “Elder, you’re a monk, so why are you worried? This path leads east. The Banana Leaf Cave is only a couple miles from here. No need to worry.”
“Oh brother, to tell you the truth, I’m the senior disciple of the Tang Monk sent from the Tang kingdom in the East to head west for scriptures. A few years ago at Fire Cloud Cavern, I had some … words with Rakshasi’s son, Red Boy. So I worry she will hold a grudge and refuse to lend me the fan.”
“A true man judges a person by their appearance and the expression on their face,” the woodcutter said. “Just say you want to borrow the fan. Don’t mention any foolish words from the past, and I’m sure you’ll get it.”
Wukong bowed deeply and thanked the woodcutter for his advice, and then he set off for the cave. When he got there, he saw the double doors shut tightly. The scenery around the cave was beautiful. The mountain took stones as its very bones, and the stones were the concentrated essence of the earth. Mists and rosy clouds held the moisture of ages past, while mosses and lichens lent everything the fresh green of new life. Towering peaks rose so majestically they seemed to outdo the Isles of the Immortals. The secluded stillness and fragrant blossoms rivaled the enchanted realms beyond the sea. Here and there, lofty pines sheltered wild cranes; scattered, time-worn willows echoed with the songs of mountain orioles. It was truly an ancient site preserved for a thousand years, a haunt of immortals through ten thousand ages. Bright phoenixes sang among emerald parasol trees, while living waters concealed azure dragons. Winding paths were draped with climbing vines and briars; stone stairways were enfolded by twisting creepers and kudzu. Gibbons cried from the green cliffs, rejoicing as the moon ascended; birds sang in the tall trees, delighting in the clear sky after rain. Twin groves of bamboo cast a shade as cool as falling rain, while flower-lined paths were so thick with blossoms that they buried the ground like embroidered velvet. From time to time white clouds drifted out from distant peaks, taking on no fixed shape as they wandered freely with the wind.
Wukong approached the door and shouted, “Hey Brother Bull! Open up!”
With a creak, the door opened, and out came a young girl carrying a flower basket and a rake. Wukong approached her, pressed his palms together in greeting, and said, “Little girl, may I trouble you to relay this to the princess: I am a scripture pilgrim heading West. I can’t get past the Mountain of Flames, so I’ve come to borrow her Banana Leaf Fan.”
“Which monastery do you hail from?” the girl asked. “What’s your name?”
“I am from the East. I am a monk, named Sun Wukong.”
The girl went back inside, kneeled in front of the princess, and said, “Mistress, there’s a monk outside. He’s named Sun Wukong and is from the East. He is asking to see you and borrow your fan to help him get past the Mountain of Flames.”
Well, Sun Wukong were the last three characters Princess Iron-Fan needed to hear. It was like pouring gasoline on fire. Even her cheekbones became flushed as anger swelled in her chest.
“That damn monkey! He’s finally here!” Iron-Fan cursed. “Maids, bring my armor and weapon!”
Momentarily, Iron-Fan stomped outside, clad in armor and wielding two fine swords. Wukong ducked to one side and stole a glance at her. Her head was wrapped in a floral-patterned kerchief, and she wore a cloud-patterened robe of richly woven brocade. Around her waist were twin tiger-sinew sashes. Under them peeked the edge of a finely embroidered silk skirt. Her tiny phoenix-beak shoes measured scarcely three inches long, and her dragon-whisker knee breeches glittered with golden ornaments. With sword in hand, she shouted in a voice filled with fury. Her fierce countenance was more terrifying than that of the Moon Hag.
“Where is Sun Wukong?!” Iron-Fan shouted.
Wukong approached, bowed, and said, “Sister-in-law, please accept my greetings.”
“Who the hell is your sister-in-law?! Who the hell wants your greetings?!”
“Your husband, the Bull Demon King, was once my sworn brother. And since you’re his wife, doesn’t that make you my sister-in-law?”
“Damn monkey! Since you and he are brothers, why did you harm my son?!”
“Who’s your son?” Wukong asked knowingly.
“My son is Red Boy, the Sage Infant King at the Fire Cloud Cavern at Dead Pine Ravine. You brought him down! We’ve been trying to find you to avenge him, but you have delivered yourself to my door. How can I spare you?!”
Wukong put on a smile and said, “Sister-in-law, you’ve got it wrong and are blaming me unfairly. Your son captured my master and wanted to cook and eat him. Fortunately, the Bodhisattva Guanyin took him and saved my master. Right now, your son is the Page Sudhana in Guanyin’s service. He has received from her the proper fruit. He is now as immortal as heaven and earth, as the sun and the moon. You should be thanking me for my kindness in sparing him. But instead you’re blaming me. What’s up with that?”
“You slick-tongued monkey!” Iron-Fan scoffed. “Even though my son is alive, when would I ever get to see him again?”
“Oh sister-in-law,” Wukong laughed. “If you want to see your son, that’s not hard. Just lend me your fan so I can extinguish the flames and get my master across the mountain. Then I’ll go to the Bodhisattva Guanyin’s place and invite your son here to see you, and I’ll return your fan. What’s the problem? At that time, if you find a single hair out of place on him, then you can blame me. But if he’s as good as before, then you should thank me.”
“Damn monkey! Quit wagging your tongue,” Iron-Fan cursed. “Stick your head out and let me hack at you a few times. If you can withstand the pain, then I’ll let you borrow my fan. If not, then I’ll send you to hell!”
Wukong put his hands on his hips and laughed, “Sister-in-law, no need to say so much. I’ll stick my bald head out, and you can hack at me to your heart’s content and until you’ve worn yourself out. Then you have to lend me your fan.”
Princess Iron-Fan didn’t say another word, and just raised her twin swords and hacked at Wukong’s head repeatedly. She hit him a dozen or so times, but Sun Wukong just shrugged it off. Taken aback, Iron-Fan turned and headed back toward the cave entrance.
“Hey sister-in-law, where are you going? Let me borrow your fan!” Wukong said.
“My treasure is not to be borrowed easily,” she said.
“What?! If you refuse, then have a taste of my rod!”
As he spoke, Wukong pulled out his golden rod. Iron-Fan didn’t shy away either, as she raised her swords and attacked. The two squared off in front of the mountain and fought until night was descending.
Gradually, Iron-Fan could feel Wukong getting the upper hand. So, she pulled out her Banana Leaf Fan and waved it once in Wukong’s direction. A wild, grim gale whipped up and blew Wukong out of sight. Iron-Fan dusted her hands and went back to her cave in victory.
Sun Wukong, meanwhile, was carried off by the wind and couldn’t stop for the whole night. Only when dawn came did he land on a mountain. He gripped the top of a peak to steady himself against the wind. After a long while, the wind finally dissipated. He collected himself and looked around. He knew this place. It was Little Mount Sumeru.
“What a vicious woman!” Wukong sighed. “How did she send me all the way here? I remember coming here that year when I had to ask the Bodhisattva Lingji (2,2) to tame the Yellow Wind Demon and save my master. That Yellow Wind Peak was 1,000-some miles to the South of here. And now I’ve been swept here from the West. That wind must have blown me some 10,000 miles to the Southeast. Let me go ask the Bodhisattva Lingji how to get back.”
Just then, he heard the sound of bells ringing, so he hurried down the mountain side and went to Lingji’s sanctuary. The monk at the door recognized him and went in to tell Lingji, “That hairy-faced Great Sage who asked you to help tame the Yellow Wind Demon is back again.”
Lingji knew from that description that his visitor was Sun Wukong, so he hurriedly descended from his dais. He greeted Wukong and asked if he had gotten scriptures yet.
“Oh not yet; it’s still early!” Wukong replied.
“Since you haven’t made it to the Thunderclap Temple, what are you doing back at my desolate mountain?” Lingji asked.
So Wukong recounted their troubles with the Mountain of Flames and with Princess Iron-Fan. He then asked how far he was away from the Mountain of Flames and which direction it was in. Lingji chuckled, “That woman is named Rakshasi and Princess Iron-Fan. Her Banana Leaf Fan was a creation of heaven and earth on the back of Mount Kunlun (1,2). It’s imbued with the negative essence. That’s why it can extinguish fire. If it’s used on people, it would send them flying for some 28,000 miles before the wind dies down. My mountain is only about 16,000 miles away from the Mountain of Flames. It’s because of your powers that you were able to stop here. A mortal would still be flying.”
“So powerful!” Wukong lamented. “How can my master get past that mountain then?”
“Great Sage, don’t worry. It’s the Tang monk’s good fortune that you ended up here. I’ll help you succeed.”
“How?”
“That year, when the Buddha commanded me to capture the Yellow Wind Demon, he gave me a Wind-Calming Pill and a Flying Dragon Staff. I’ve used the staff to tame the Yellow Wind Demon, but I haven’t used the Wind-Calming Pill yet. I’ll give it to you. That’ll make you immovable in the face of that wind. You can get the fan and extinguish the fire.”
Wukong bowed to thank Lingji profusely. Lingji then took out a small brocade pouch from his sleeve and retrieved from the pouch the Wind-Calming Pill. He put it in Wukong’s shirt collar and stitched it tightly in place with needle and thread. Then, he saw Wukong off and told him to head Northwest to get back to Princess Iron-Fan’s mountain.
Wukong took his leave and somersaulted back toward Jade Cloud Mountain. He soon arrived. This time, he smacked the cave doors with his rod and shouted, “Open up! I’ve come to borrow your fan!”
The girl watching the door hurriedly told Princess Iron-fan that the monkey was back. Iron-fan was taken aback and thought to herself, “That monkey really has some skills. When I use my fan on people, it sends them flying for 28,000 miles. How come he’s back already? Fine, I’ll wave the fan at him two or three times, and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back!”
So she put on her armor and got her swords, went outside, and said, “Sun Wukong, are you not afraid of me?! Have you come back to seek death again?!”
“Sister-in-law, don’t be so stingy,” Wukong chuckled. “Just let me borrow the fan quick. I’ll return it as soon as I get my master across the mountain. I’m a trustworthy gentleman, not someone who would borrow something and not return it.”
“Insolent ape!” Iron-fan cursed. “You’re so unreasonable! I haven’t avenged my son yet! So don’t you dream about borrowing my fan. Stand still and taste my blade!”
Wukong showed no sign of fear as he raised his rod to take her on. They fought for five or six exchanges, and Wukong was again getting the upper hand. So Iron-fan pulled out her treasure again and waved it in Wukong’s direction. But this time, Wukong didn’t even budge.
Wukong put away his rod, and said with a smile, “This time is not like before. Go ahead and wave that fan at me as much as you want. If I so much as flinch, then I’m no hero.”
Iron-fan waved her fan a couple more times at him, but Sun Wukong remained in place. Panicked, Iron-fan put away her treasure, rushed back into her cave, and shut the doors.
But of course, there’s no door that can keep Sun Wukong out. He ripped out the stitchings in his shirt collar and took out the Wind-Calming Pill. He stashed the pill in his mouth and then turned into a tiny insect and slipped in between the cracks in the double doors.
Once inside, he heard Princess Iron-fan calling to her maid, “I’m thirsty! Bring me tea at once!”
Her maid quickly prepared a cup of fragrant tea. This was exactly what Wukong needed, and he flew toward the cup.
Iron-fan took the tea and gulped it down. Suddenly, she heard a voice ring out from her abdomen, “Hey sister-in-law, let me borrow your fan!”
“Little ones, did you shut the front door?” she asked her servants in shock.
“We did,” they replied.
“Then how come I hear Sun Wukong inside our cave?!”
“He’s on your body,” the maid said.
“Sun Wukong, where are you?!” Iron-fan called out. “What dirty tricks are you playing?”
“Oh I never play dirty tricks,” Wukong replied. “I only have real skills. I’m playing in your stomach. I see your organs. I know you’re thirsty, so have a seat and quench your thirst!”
As he spoke, he stomped his foot down on her innards. Iron-fan promptly plopped down on the floor and cried out in pain.
“Sister-in-law, don’t refuse me. Here, let me give you a little dessert to sate your hunger!” Wukong said as he thrusted his head upward into another organ. Iron-fan was now rolling around on the floor, her face and lips turning ashen.
“Brother-in-law, spare my life!” she pleaded.
“Oh, you finally called me brother-in-law, huh? Alright, on account of my Bull Brother, I’ll spare you. Hurry up and let me borrow you fan.”
“Ok, ok. Come out and take it!”
“Show me the fan first, and then I’ll come out.”
Iron-fan told her maid to bring out a Banana Leaf Fan and put it down. Wukong, peeking out from her throat, saw the fan and said, “Sister-in-law, since I’m sparing your life, I wouldn’t make a new hole in you. I’ll come out through your mouth. Open up.”
Iron-fan opened her mouth, and Wukong turned back into a bug and flew out, landing on the fan. Iron-fan didn’t realize he was out and opened her mouth three times and asked him to come out. Wukong now turned back into his own self, took the fan, and said, “Here I am! Thank you for the fan!” He then stomped toward the entrance, where the maids hurriedly opened up the doors and let him out.
To see if this fan will solve the pilgrims’ fire problems, 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
- “Loneliest Road in America (US 50)” by Jesse Gallagher (from YouTube audio library)
- “Ravines” by Elphnt (from YouTube audio library)