Bajie, meanwhile, complained about the scorching weather.
Tang Sanzang and the others were no better off, their sweat soaking through their monk's robes.
Sha Wujing said, "What strange weather this foreign land has! The four seasons are out of order, with no distinction between autumn and winter."
Tang Sanzang looked up at the Sun. The red orb stood high overhead; keeping his clothes on was stifling, but taking them off risked burning his skin.
Feeling thirsty, Tang Sanzang asked, "Wukong, do we have any water left?"
"No water left, Master," Wukong said. "Let's go a little farther and find somewhere shady to rest. I'll fetch you some water."
The master and his three disciples walked another few li. In the distance, off the main road, they spotted red brick walls enclosing a grand estate with a lofty gate.
Tang Sanzang said happily, "Wukong, look! There's a wealthy household up ahead."
Wukong was pleased too. "Master, let's go beg a bowl of water and ask to stay the night. We can escape the heat as well."
Tang Sanzang and the others all gladly agreed.
So the four of them left the main road and headed toward the house.
At the entrance, they straightened their clothes, and Wukong went forward to knock.
Before he could, the door opened and an old man emerged. He wore reddish-brown cloth garments, a hat woven from fine bamboo strips, and a pair of old shoes. His face was like red copper, his eyes were blue-green, and his features were those of a foreigner.
At the sight of Wukong, the old man shrank back a little and asked, "Where have you come from, you strange fellow? What brings you here?"
Wukong bowed. "Don't be afraid, Old Benefactor. I'm no strange fellow, but a monk traveling from the