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01 Water Curtain Cave

The apes cried out as one, ‘Long live the King! Long live the King!’ From that day the stone monkey ruled over them and called himself the Handsome Monkey King. He gathered his followers in the Water Curtain Cave, and there they lived in freedom and delight. Springs passed and autumns came; in a flash three or five hundred years were gone. One day, as the Handsome Monkey King sat upon his throne, he fell to weeping in distress. The apes asked eagerly why, and he said, ‘Happy though we are at this hour, in the end we must all die. Is there no way by which we might escape death and live forever?’ A long-armed old gibbon stepped forward. ‘If you would escape death, you must cross the seas to the ancient caves and holy mountains, and there seek out the art of immortality.’ At this the Handsome Monkey King grew eager, and resolved to set out across the sea in search of immortals before many days were past. The good Monkey King was as swift to act as thunder. Within days he boarded the raft the apes had built for him, bade farewell to Flower-Fruit Mountain, and set out upon his quest for immortals and the Way. The Handsome Monkey King poled his raft, riding the wind and facing the towering waves, and held his course ever southward. At last he came to the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa. From a distance he saw fishermen upon the beach, some gathering shellfish, some spreading their nets to dry, and he went up to speak with them. The fishermen took him for a monster and scattered in terror. The Handsome Monkey King strode forward, seized one who ran slowly, stripped off his clothes and put them on. In the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa the Handsome Monkey King wandered the broad streets and the narrow alleys, learning to speak as men speak and to observe the rites of men, and seeking everywhere for immortals and for the Way. Eight or nine years went by, and he came to see that most of those who called themselves gods and immortals were nothing but impostors playing at spirits, beguiling the common folk. The Handsome Monkey King crossed yet another sea and came to the borders of the Western Continent of Cattle-Gifting, where he went about asking all he met where the immortals might be found. One day, deep in the mountains, he heard a woodcutter singing. The words seemed to him lofty and profound, and he went up to ask, ‘Old sir, are you an immortal?’ The woodcutter laughed. ‘I am no immortal — though I am a neighbor of one.’ The Handsome Monkey King pressed him eagerly, and the woodcutter said, ‘This is the Mountain of the Spirit Terrace, the Square Inch. Seven or eight leagues ahead lies the Cave of the Slanting Moon and the Three Stars, and in it dwells an immortal called the Patriarch Subhuti.’ And he pointed out the way. The Handsome Monkey King thanked the woodcutter and followed his directions until he came to the Cave of the Slanting Moon and the Three Stars. There he saw auspicious beasts and spirit birds passing to and fro, pines and cypresses and orchids in wild profusion — truly the air of an immortal's dwelling. Not daring to knock at the gate, the Handsome Monkey King sprang into a tree and began eating pine nuts. Before long the cave door opened and an immortal boy came out. The Handsome Monkey King hastened to bow, and the boy said, ‘My master said that someone who seeks the Way has come without, and bade me go out to receive him. It must be you. Come in with me!’ The Monkey King followed the boy inside and saw the Patriarch Subhuti seated upon the dais, with some thirty disciples attending him on either side. The moment he saw him, the Monkey King flung himself down and knocked his head again and again, crying, ‘Master! Master! Your disciple bows with all his heart, bows with all his heart!’

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