The formula is a hinge rather than an ending, and it does what hinges do. Chapter fifteen has answered both halves of its own title. The gods gave their secret protection, at the gorge and then again at a shrine that was not there. The will-horse took the rein — first at Guanyin's word, and then, less predictably, out of an old man's cupboard.

What the chapter leaves unresolved is the pair themselves. A master who bows to empty air and a disciple who falls over laughing at him; two travellers who can quarrel over a joke about a stolen horse and cannot be trusted with a washing-line. The lesson of the gorge — say who you are and what you are here for — has been learned exactly once, by Wukong, at a raft, and there is no guarantee whatever that it will stick.

They ride toward a monastery, and the storyteller stops, because that is where the coins were taken up.