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01 Water Curtain Cave

The Patriarch asked, ‘From what place do you come? What is your name, and who were your parents?’ The Monkey King replied, ‘Your disciple is a stone monkey born of heaven on Flower-Fruit Mountain in the kingdom of Aolai, on the Eastern Continent of Excellent Bliss. I crossed the seas and only now have found this place.’ The Patriarch bade him walk a few steps, and the Monkey King hobbled back and forth twice, setting all present roaring with laughter. Said the Patriarch, ‘You are much like a macaque, so let your surname be Sun.’ The Monkey King knocked his head in thanks, then asked the Patriarch for a given name as well. The Patriarch said, ‘My disciples are many, and are ranked by twelve characters. Your turn falls upon the character Wu — awakening. So you shall be called Sun Wukong.’ Laughing, the Monkey King bowed. ‘Good! Good! Good! From this day on I am Sun Wukong!’ From then on Sun Wukong remained in the cave. By day he carried water and firewood; in his leisure he studied the scriptures and discussed the Way with his elder brothers — and in a flash seven years had gone by. One day the Patriarch ascended the dais to expound the Law. Hearing a passage of rare subtlety, Wukong could not contain himself: he scratched his ears and cheeks and danced for joy. The Patriarch asked why he could not sit still, and Wukong said, ‘Your disciple heard a passage of such subtlety that his joy got the better of him. I beg my master's pardon.’ Knowing Wukong's powers of comprehension to be out of the ordinary, the Patriarch came forward and asked what art he wished to learn, setting before him several ways: the invocation of spirits, the worship of Buddhas, seated meditation and the practice of Chan. When Wukong learned that none of these could grant immortality, he shook his head again and again. ‘I will not learn them! I will not learn them!’ The Patriarch leapt down from his seat, his face stern and his voice harsh. ‘You wretched ape! This you will not learn, that you will not learn. What is it you do want?’ And taking up the ferule, he struck Wukong three times upon the head. The Patriarch walked into the inner room with his hands behind his back and shut the middle door behind him. The disciples all complained bitterly of Wukong — but Wukong had already solved the riddle, and did nothing but smile by way of apology. Near the hour of midnight, when his elder brothers were all asleep, Wukong rose quietly and went straight by the back door to where the Patriarch slept. Seeing the Patriarch lying turned away from him, he dared not wake him, but knelt silently before the couch. Before long the Patriarch awoke. Wukong stepped forward. ‘Master, your disciple has knelt here a long while.’ The Patriarch demanded sternly, ‘You wretched ape, what are you doing here?’ Wukong said, ‘Master struck me three times by day and went away shutting the middle door — clearly telling your disciple to come by the back door at the third watch to learn the Way.’ The Patriarch saw at once that his meaning had been guessed aright, and was secretly well pleased. Seeing that Wukong was quick to understand, firm of will, and richly gifted, he passed on to him one by one the wondrous arts of the immortals, and among them the secret of everlasting life. Having received the Patriarch's true transmission, Wukong gave himself to the practice day and night, with all his heart. The Patriarch, well pleased to see Wukong study so diligently, taught him in addition the seventy-two transformations. Wukong learned swiftly, drawing inferences from all he was taught. Seeing how hard he strove, the Patriarch taught him too the Cloud-Somersault, shaped to the very way he scrambled through the air. A single somersault would carry him a hundred and eight thousand leagues — a most formidable art! One day, as the brothers rested beneath a tree, several of the elder disciples said to Wukong, ‘Our master has taught you the arts of immortality. Now is a fine hour — let us see something of them.’ Wukong braced himself and said, ‘Name your wish, brothers, and I shall change into whatever you ask.’ They asked him to become a great tree. Wukong muttered the spell, shook himself, and was transformed into a pine — to the loud acclaim of all his brothers.

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