up by cloud with Monkey. As soon as the idiot saw the lights he wanted to attack, but Monkey held him back and said, “Steady on. We’ll go down when they’ve all gone.”

“But their recitations are only just warming up,” said Pig. “They won’t want to go.”

“I’ll do some magic that will send them packing,” said Monkey.

The splendid Great Sage said the words and made the hand movements of a spell, drew in a breath from the quarter of the wind, and blew a gale so terrible that as it tore into the Hall of the Three Pure Ones it knocked down all the vases, candlesticks, and offerings on the walls and put out all the lamps. The Taoists all shook with terror.

“You had better go, disciples,” said the Great Immortal Tiger Power. “This divine wind has blown out all the lamps and the incense, so you should all go back to bed. Get up early tomorrow morning and recite some more scriptures to make the numbers up.” The Taoists then did indeed all withdraw.

Monkey then led Pig and Friar Sand to land their clouds, and they charged straight into the Hall of the Three Pure Ones. The idiot grabbed some food, not caring whether it was cooked or raw, and was just about to eat it when Monkey raised his iron cudgel to hit him. Pig pulled back his hand and said, “You’re going to hit me before I’ve even tasted anything.”

“Don’t act so low,” said Monkey. “You must pay your respects and sit down before eating.”

“You’re shameless,” said Pig. “You steal food and expect me to pay my respects too. What would I have had to do if we’d been properly invited?”

“Do you know who the three Bodhisattvas sitting up there are?” Monkey asked. “Can’t you recognize the Three Pure Ones themselves?” asked Pig. “How could you possibly think they are Bodhisattvas?”

“What about those Three Pure Ones?” Monkey asked. “Oh well,” said Pig, “the one in the middle is the Original Celestial Pure One, the one on the left is the Precious Pure One, and the one on the right is the Supreme Lord Lao Zi.”

“We’ve got to make ourselves look like them before we can eat in safety,” said Monkey. The delicious smells of the offerings were making the idiot desperate with hunger, so he climbed on the pedestal of the statue and knocked Lord Lao Zi off it with one shove of his snout.

“You’ve sat here for long enough, old man,” he said. “It’s my turn now.”

Pig turned himself into the Supreme Lord Lao Zi, Monkey turned himself into the Original Celestial Pure One, and Friar Sand into the Precious Pure One. When the statues had all been pushed over and the three of them were sitting up there Pig grabbed a big steamed bun.

“Not so fast,” said Monkey.

“But brother,” protested Pig, “we’ve already made ourselves look like them. What are we waiting for?”

“Brother,” said Monkey, “eating is much less important than not giving ourselves away. If one of the Taoists got up early to hit the bell or sweep the floor and tripped over a piece of one of the statues we’ve knocked over the news would be out. You’d better hide them.”

“But where?” asked Pig. “I’m a stranger here and I don’t know my way around.”

“When we came in,” said Monkey, “there was a little pair of double doors to the right with an awful stench coming out of them. It must be the place where the five kinds of grain prepare for reincarnation. Put them in there.”

The idiot really did have some brute strength. When he leapt down he put the three statues over his shoulders and carried them out. On kicking those doors open he found that it was in fact a big lavatory.

“That Protector of the Horses certainly knows how to talk,” he said with a laugh. “He even made up a fancy Taoist name for the shithouse—‘the place where the five kinds of grain prepare for reincarnation.’” Before tipping in the three statues he was carrying he mumbled a prayer:

“Three Pure Ones, Three Pure Ones, hear my prayer. We have come here from afar to wipe out evil spirits. We wish to enjoy your offerings but there was nowhere we could sit. So we’ve had to borrow your pedestals for a while. You have been sitting there long enough, and now you can go into the cesspit. Normally you have no end of things to eat, and you are pure Taoists. But today you’ll have to taste some filth and be stinking Heavenly Honoured Ones.”

His prayer said, he threw them in with a great splash that covered half his tunic with evil-smelling liquid. When he went hack into the hall Monkey asked him, “Did you hide them properly?”

“I hid them well enough,” the idiot replied, “but I splashed some of that filthy water on my clothes. I hope the stench doesn’t make you feel sick.”

“Never mind,” laughed Monkey, “come and eat now. But you’ll have to clean up before we go outside.” The idiot turned himself back into Lord Lao Zi and the three of them sat down to eat their fill. First they ate the steamed bread, and then they went on to the assorted cold dishes, the rice, the pastries, the buns, the biscuits, the pancakes, the doughnuts, and the steamed pies. They ate whatever they felt like, not caring whether it was hot or cold. Now Monkey was not much of a one for cooked food, so he just ate some fruit to keep the other two company. They cleaned everything up like shooting stars chasing the moon or a wind sweeping the clouds away. When there was nothing else left to eat they did not go, but stayed there chatting and entertaining themselves while they digested the meal.

What a thing to have done! There was a young Taoist priest who had just gone to bed in his dormitory by the Eastern cloister when he suddenly got up. “I left my handbell in the hall,” he thought, “and if I lose it my master will be angry with me tomorrow.”

“You go to sleep,” he said to other priest who shared his bed, “while I go to look for it.” He was in such a hurry that he did not put his underclothes back on but just pulled on his tunic and went straight to the main hall to look for his bell. He groped all around till he found it and was about to turn and leave when to his consternation he heard the sound of breathing. As he fled in alarm he tripped on a lichee stone and crashed to the ground, smashing his bell to pieces with a tremendous clang. Pig could not help roaring with laughter at this, which terrified the young Taoist out of his wits.

He staggered to the abbots lodgings, knocked on the doors and said, “Masters, disaster.”

The three senior Taoist were not yet in bed, so they opened the doors and asked, “What disaster?”

“I’d lost my bell,” said the young Taoist, shivering and shaking, “and was looking for it in the hall when I heard a loud laugh that all but scared me to death.”

“Fetch lanterns,” said the senior Taoists on hearing this, “and see what evil creature it is.” This order was passed on to the priests, young and old, in both cloisters, who all got up, lit lamps, and went to the main hall to look.

If you don’t know what they found, listen to the explanation in the next installment.