Last updated: 01-17-2023
Someone on Tumblr recently asked me if I knew how many monsters, spirits, and humans that Sun Wukong kills throughout Journey to the West (Xiyouji, 西遊記, 1592). But since he’s a “hyper murder monkey” (fig. 1), this is impossible to quantify without an overly extensive survey of the book. However, the task becomes far more manageable if narrowed down to just humans. I know of at least seven instances in chapters 14, 27, 28, 44, 46, and 56. Although I can’t give an exact count, the number slain is over 1,030!
This study is by no means exhaustive. I’ve surely missed a few examples in the latter half of the book. But I’ll update this piece in the future if anything else pops up.
Fig. 1 – The story of the hyper murder monkey by @FlorkOfCows (larger version).
I. Chapter 14
- Six robbers
The first instance happens when Sun and his master are accosted by six robbers shortly after the immortal is released from under Five Elements Mountain:
Master and disciple had traveled for some time when suddenly six men jumped out from the side of the road with much clamor, all holding long spears and short swords, sharp blades and strong bows. “Stop, monk!” they cried. “Leave your horse and drop your bag at once, and we’ll let you pass on alive!” Tripitaka was so terrified that his soul left him and his spirit fled; he fell from his horse, unable to utter a word. But Pilgrim lifted him up, saying, “Don’t be alarmed, Master. It’s nothing really, just some people coming to give us clothes and a travel allowance!” “Wukong,” said Tripitaka, “you must be a little hard of hearing! They told us to leave our bag and our horse, and you want to ask them for clothes and a travel allowance?” “You just stay here and watch our belongings,” said Pilgrim, “and let old Monkey confront them. We’ll see what happens.” Tripitaka said, “Even a good punch is no match for a pair of fists, and two fists can’t cope with four hands! There are six big fellows over there, and you are such a tiny person. How can you have the nerve to confront them?”
As he always had been audacious, Pilgrim did not wait for further discussion. He walked forward with arms folded and saluted the six men, saying, “Sirs, for what reason are you blocking the path of this poor monk?” “We are kings of the highway,” said the men, “philanthropic mountain lords. Our fame has long been known, though you seem to be ignorant of it. Leave your belongings at once, and you will be allowed to pass. If you but utter half a no, you’ll be chopped to pieces!” “I have been also a great hereditary king and a mountain lord for centuries,” said Pilgrim, “but I have yet to learn of your illustrious names.” “So you really don’t know!” one of them said. “Let’s tell you then: one of us is named Eye That Sees and Delights; another, Ear That Hears and Rages; another Nose That Smells and Loves; another, Tongue That Tastes and Desires; another, Mind That Perceives and Covets; and another, Body That Bears and Suffers.” “You are nothing but six hairy brigands,” said Wukong laughing, “who have failed to recognize in me a person who has left the family, your proper master. How dare you bar my way? Bring out the treasures you have stolen so that you and I can divide them into seven portions. I’ll spare you then!” Hearing this, the robbers all reacted with rage and amusement, covetousness and fear, desire and anxiety. They rushed forward crying, “You reckless monk! You haven’t a thing to offer us, and yet you want us to share our loot with you!” Wielding spears and swords, they surrounded Pilgrim and hacked away at his head seventy or eighty times. Pilgrim stood in their midst and behaved as if nothing were happening.
What a monk!” said one of the robbers. “He really does have a hard head!” “Passably so!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “But your hands must be getting tired from all that exercise; it’s about time for old Monkey to take out his needle for a little entertainment.” “This monk must be an acupuncture man in disguise,” said the robber. “We’re not sick! What’s all this about using a needle?” Pilgrim reached into his ear and took out a tiny embroidery needle; one wave of it in the wind and it became an iron rod with the thickness of a rice bowl. He held it in his hands, saying, “Don’t run! Let old Monkey try his hand on you with this rod!” The six robbers fled in all directions, but with great strides he caught up with them and rounded all of them up. He beat every one of them to death, stripped them of their clothes, and seized their valuables. Then Pilgrim came back smiling broadly and said, “You may proceed now, Master. Those robbers have been exterminated by old Monkey” (Wu & Yu, vol. 1, pp 314-315).
This ends with Tripitaka becoming angry and exiling Monkey. The cleric later welcomes him back, only to rein in his disciple’s unruly behavior with the heaven-sent golden headband (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 1, pp. 315-317 and 318-320). This becomes a reoccurring theme (see below).
The six murders (fig. 2) are allegories for defeating the desires of the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, mind, and body that hinder one’s spiritual progression.  This is explained by Monkey in chapter 43 (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, p. 254).
Fig. 2 – A woodblock print depicting Sun killing the six bandits (larger version). It comes from The Illustrated Journey to the West (Ehon Saiyuki, 繪本西遊記), a 19th-century Japanese translation.
II. Chapter 27
The second is alluded to during the White Bone Spirit episode. In her attempts to eat the monk, the wily skeleton demon takes on the guises of a beautiful girl, her elderly mother, and her elderly father in turn. But each time Sun attacks her with his staff, she leaves a fake corpse in her wake,  making it seem like the immortal has murdered yet another person. This naturally upsets Tripitaka, but Monkey explains that evil spirits commonly disguise themselves as something welcoming in order to catch and eat humans. He uses himself as an example, claiming to have done the same as a young monster:
“Master,” said Pilgrim with a laugh, “how could you know about this? When I was a monster back at the Water-Curtain Cave, I would act like this if I wanted to eat human flesh. I would change myself into gold or silver, a lonely building, a harmless drunk, or a beautiful woman. Anyone feebleminded enough to be attracted by me I would lure back to the cave. There I would enjoy him as I pleased, by steaming or boiling. If I couldn’t finish him off in one meal, I would dry the leftovers in the sun to keep for rainy days. Master, if I had returned a little later, you would have fallen into her trap and been harmed by her.” That Tang Monk, however, simply refused to believe these words; he kept saying instead that the woman was a good person (Wu & Yu, vol. 2, p. 20).
In the end, the cleric isn’t convinced that Sun didn’t kill an entire family, and so he punishes him with the band-tightening spell before once again banishing him from the group (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, pp. 26-28).
I know some online commentators believe that Monkey lies here about eating people. I’ll leave it up to the reader to make their own decision. But even if his claims are true, there is no way of quantifying the number eaten.
III. Chapter 28
- 1,000-plus hunters
The third happens shortly after Sun’s exile. Upon returning to the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, he learns that more than half of his 47,000 monkey subjects had been killed centuries ago in a great fire set by Erlang, and then half of the survivors later fled elsewhere due to a lack of food. In addition, half of those who remained were killed and eaten or captured for entertainment by a band of over 1,000 human hunters who recently came to inhabit the mountain. Hearing this greatly enrages the Monkey King. He thereafter instructs his subjects to gather piles of small rocks for a magical wind attack (Wu & Yu, vol. 2, pp. 31-32):
Making the magic sign with his fingers and reciting a spell, he drew in a breath facing the southwest and blew it out. At once a violent wind arose. Marvelous wind!
It threw up dust and scattered dirt;
It toppled trees and cut down forests.
The ocean waves rose like mountains;
They crashed fold upon fold on the shore.
The cosmos grew dim and darkened;
The sun and the moon lost their light.
The pine trees, once shaken, roared like tigers;
The bamboos, hit abruptly, sang like dragons.
All Heaven’s pores let loose their angry breaths
As rocks and sand flew, hurting one and all.
The Great Sage called up this mighty wind that blew up and scattered those rock pieces in every direction. Pity those thousand-odd (qianyu, 千餘) hunters and horses! This was what happened to every one of them:
The rocks broke their dark heads to pieces;
Flying sand hurt all the winged horses.
Lords and nobles confounded before the peak,
Blood stained like cinnabar the earth.
Fathers and sons could not go home.
Could fine men to their houses return?
Corpses fell to the dust and lay on the mountain,
While rouged ladies at home waited.
The poem says:
Men killed, horses dead—how could they go home?
Lost, lonely souls floundered like tangled hemp.
Pity those strong and virile fighting men,
Whose blood, both good and bad, did stain the sand!
Lowering the direction of his cloud, the Great Sage clapped his hands and roared with laughter, saying, “Lucky! Lucky! Since I made submission to the Tang Monk and became a priest, he has been giving me this advice:
‘Do good a thousand days,
But the good is still insufficient;
Do evil for one day,
And that evil is already excessive.’
Some truth indeed! When I followed him and killed a few monsters, he would blame me for perpetrating violence. Today I came home and it was the merest trifle to finish off all these hunters.”
He then shouted, “Little ones, come out!” When those monkeys saw that the violent wind had passed and heard the Great Sage calling, they all jumped out. “Go down to the south side of the mountain,” said the Great Sage, “and strip the dead hunters of their clothes. Bring them back home, wash away the bloodstains, and you all can wear them to ward off the cold. The corpses you can push into the deep mountain lake over there. Pull back here also the horses that are killed; their hides can be used to make boots, and their meat can be cured for us to enjoy slowly. Gather up the bows and arrows, the swords and spears, and you can use them for military drills again. And finally, bring me those banners of miscellaneous colors; I have use for them” (Wu & Yu, vol. 2, pp 33-34).
This is by far the largest number of humans killed in one go by the hyper murder monkey.
IV. Chapter 44
- Two Daoists
The fourth happens shortly after the pilgrims arrive in the Cart-Slow Kingdom. Sun is appalled to learn that three self-proclaimed immortals have convinced the region’s monarch to not only destroy all Buddhist institutions but also to enslave the clerics to the Daoists. His initial response is to play a joke on two cocky Daoist overseers by convincing them (under the guise of an aged coreligionist) that he has a relative among the 500 monks who should be set free. But when they ask which one, our hero claims all of them to be his kin (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, pp. 269-275):
The Daoists said, “You must be a little crazy, for all at once you are babbling! These monks happen to be gifts from the king. If we want to release even one or two of them, we will have to go first before our masters to report that they are ill. Then, we have to submit a death certificate before we can consider the matter closed. How could you ask us to release them all? Nonsense! Nonsense! Why, not to speak of the fact that we would be left without servants in our household, but even the court might be offended. The king might send some officials to look into the work here or he himself might come to investigate. How could we dare let them go?” “You won’t release them?” said Pilgrim. “No, we won’t!” said the Daoists. Pilgrim asked them three times and his anger flared up. Whipping out his iron rod from his ear, he squeezed it once in the wind and it had the thickness of a rice bowl. He tested it with his hand before slamming it down on the Daoists’ heads. How pitiful! This one blow made
Their heads crack, their blood squirts, their bodies sink low;
Their skin split, their necks snap, their brains outflow! (Wu & Yu, vol. 2, p. 275).
V. Chapter 46
- One civil official
The fifth happens during a magical contest of torture against one of the three supposed immortals. Monkey easily survives a bath in boiling oil but fakes his death in order to play a trick on Zhu Bajie. The officer in charge of the execution reports the development to the monarch, leading Tripitaka to eulogize and present offerings to his disciple’s spirit. But once Zhu hijacks the proceedings by calling Sun a Bimawen,  our hero erupts from the caldron to chastise his religious brother. Fearing possible punishment for seemingly lying to the king, the aforementioned official claims the primate is instead a ghost (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, pp. 310-312):
Maddened by what he heard, Pilgrim leaped out of the cauldron, dried himself from the oil, and threw on his clothes. Dragging that officer over, he whipped out his iron rod and one blow on the head reduced him to a meat patty. “What ghost is this who’s manifesting itself?” he huffed (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, pp. 312-313).
VI. Chapter 56 – Part 1
- Two bandit chiefs
The last two instances that I know of take place shortly after the scorpion spirit episode. The sixth follows a similar pattern to chapter 14: Tripitaka is confronted by bandits → He gets scared and falls off the horse → The bandits demand money and the horse → Sun intervenes → His banter enrages them and they hit and stab at his adamantine pate to no avail → They comment on his hard head → Monkey pulls out his iron staff, referring to it as a needle → The bandits infer that he works in a certain profession and claim to have no use for the needle → He enlarges the weapon and eventually beats them to death.  The only difference here is that Sun first challenges the men to lift his staff:
… Sticking the rod into the ground, Pilgrim said to them, “If any of you can pick it up, it’s yours.” The two bandit chiefs at once went forward to try to grab it, but alas, it was as if dragonflies were attempting to shake a stone pillar. They could not even budge it half a whit! This rod, you see, happened to be the compliant golden-hooped rod, which tipped the scale in Heaven at thirteen thousand, five hundred [catties]. How could those bandits have knowledge of this? The Great Sage walked forward and picked up the rod with no effort at all. Assuming the style of the Python Rearing its Body, he pointed at the bandits and said, “Your luck’s running out, for you have met old Monkey!” One of the bandit chiefs approached him and gave him another fifty or sixty blows. “Your hands must be getting tired!” chuckled Pilgrim. “Let old Monkey give you one stroke of the rod. I won’t do it for real either!” Look at him! One wave of the rod and it grew to about seventy feet, its circumference almost as big as a well. He banged it on the bandit, and he at once fell to the ground: his lips hugging the earth, he could not make another sound.
The other bandit chiefs shouted, “This baldy is so audacious! He has no travel money, but he has killed one of us instead!” “Don’t fret! Don’t fret!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “I’ll hit every one of you, just to make sure that all of you will be wiped out!” With another bang he beat to death the other bandit chief Those small thieves were so terrified that they abandoned their weapons and fled for their lives in all directions (Wu & Yu, vol. 3, pp. 80-81).
VII. Chapter 56 – Part 2
- One unfilial son
- twenty-ish bandits
The seventh happens sometime after one of the surviving bandits, the son of an elderly couple surnamed Yang (楊), discovers that his parents are feeding and sheltering the pilgrims for the night. He and his brothers-in-arms make plans to attack the monks after eating dinner and sharpening their weapons, but old Mr. Yang alerts them, giving Tripitaka and his disciples ample time to escape:
Every bandit was darting forward like an arrow, and by sunrise, they caught sight of the Tang Monk. When the elder heard shouts behind him, he turned to look and discovered a band of some thirty men rushing toward him, all armed with knives and spears. “Oh, disciples,” he cried, “the brigand troops are catching up with us. What shall we do?” “Relax, relax!” said Pilgrim. “Old Monkey will go finish them off!” “Wukong,” said Tripitaka as he stopped his horse, “you must not hurt these people. Just frighten them away.” Unwilling, of course, to listen to his master, Pilgrim turned quickly to face his pursuers, saying, “Where are you going, sirs?” “You nasty baldie!” cried the thieves. “Give us back the lives of our great kings!”
As they encircled Pilgrim, the bandits lifted their spears and knives to stab and hack away madly. The Great Sage gave one wave of his rod and it had the thickness of a bowl; with it, he fought until those bandits dropped like stars and dispersed like clouds. Those he bumped into died at once, those he caught hold of perished immediately, those he tapped had their bones broken, and those he brushed against had their skins torn. The few smart ones managed to escape, but the rest of the dumb ones all went to see King Yama!
When Tripitaka saw that many men had fallen, he was so aghast that he turned and galloped toward the West, with Zhu Eight Rules and Sha Monk hard on the horse’s heels. Pilgrim pulled over one of the wounded bandits and asked, “Which is the son of old Yang?” “Father,” groaned the thief, “the one in yellow.” Pilgrim went forward to pick up a knife and beheaded the one in yellow. Holding the bloody head in his hand, he retrieved his iron rod and, in great strides, caught up with the Tang Monk. As he arrived before the horse, he raised the head and said, “Master, this is the rebellious son of old Yang, and he’s been beheaded by old Monkey.” [fig. 3] Paling with fright, Tripitaka fell down from the horse, crying, “Wretched ape! You’ve scared me to death! Take it away! Take it away!” Eight Rules went forward and kicked the head to the side of the road, where he used the muckrake to bury it (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, pp. 88-89).
The quote is clear that not all 30 bandits are killed. Apart from Yang the bandit, I think 20(-ish) is a conservative estimate based on the wording.
And just like chapters 14 and 27, this episode ends with Tripitaka punishing his disciple with the band-tightening spell before exiling him from the group (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, pp. 89-90).
Fig. 3 – Monkey presenting the head of Yang the bandit to his master. This screenshot comes from episode 10 of OSP’s retelling of Journey to the West (larger version).
To my knowledge, the Monkey King kills over 1,030 humans in Journey to the West. This includes six allegorical robbers in chapter 14, an unknown amount alluded to in chapter 27, over 1,000 hunters in chapter 28, two Daoists in chapter 44, one civil official in chapter 46, and two bandits chiefs, one unfilial son, and maybe 20-ish bandits in chapter 56. I may have missed a few instances in the latter half of the novel, so please don’t look at the above total as complete.
I previously mentioned an instance in chapter 27 where Monkey admits to eating humans in his youth, something that some online commentators believe to be a fib. Well, a Tumblr user, who goes by both @abitfiendish and @localcactushugger, reminded me that dialogue in chapter 39 further calls this into question.
After a pill of immortal elixir fails to revive a long-dead king, Tripitaka suggests mouth-to-mouth necessitation is needed to complete the resurrection process. Sun is ultimately chosen for this job since he had apparently never eaten meat:
Eight Rules walked forward and was about to do this when he was stopped by Tripitaka. “You can’t do it,” he said. “Wukong still should take over.” That elder indeed had presence of mind, for Zhu Eight Rules, you see, had been a cannibal since his youth, and his breath was unclean. Pilgrim, on the other hand, had practiced self-cultivation since his birth, the food sustaining him being various fruits and nuts, and thus his breath was pure. The Great Sage, therefore, went forward and clamped his thundergod beak to the lips of the king: a mighty breath was blown through his throat … (Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 2, pp. 195-196).
But it should be remembered that Journey to the West is crammed full of inconsistencies (likely born from the novel coalescing from different oral tales). For example, this chapter shows that all it takes to revive a dead person is an elixir pill and mouth-to-mouth. However, in chapter 97, Monkey has to physically retrieve the soul of a recently deceased householder from the underworld in order to resurrect him (see the material below figure 3 here).
Again, I’ll leave it up to the reader to make their own decision.
1) Things that arouse the eyes (sights), ears (sounds), nose (smells), tongue (tastes), and mind and body (wants and desires).
2) This is related to an ancient Daoist concept called “Release by means of a corpse” (Shijie, 尸解). Stories as far back as the Han describe immortals leaving behind a fake corpse (sometimes a magically disguised object) while they ascended in secret to heaven (Kirkland, 2008).
3) This plays on the homophonous relationship between Bimawen (避馬瘟, lit: “avoid the horse plague”), an ancient belief that female monkeys placed in horse stables could ward off equine sickness, and Bimawen (弼馬溫, “To assist horse temperament”), Sun’s former station as keeper of the heavenly horses (see here).
See Wu & Yu, 2012, vol. 3, pp. 78-81.
Kirkland, R. (2008). Shijie In F. Pregadio (Ed.), The Encyclopedia of Taoism (Vol. 2) (pp. 896-897). London [u.a.: Routledge].
Wu, C., & Yu, A. C. (2012). The Journey to the West (Vols. 1-4) (Rev. ed.). Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press.