The story tells how the Handsome Monkey King, having received his name, bounded about in delight and bowed before Subodhi to give thanks. The Patriarch at once ordered the assembly to lead Sun Wukong out beyond the second gate and teach him the courtesies of sweeping and waiting, of advancing and retiring, of comportment among others. The immortals obeyed and went out. Once outside, Wukong bowed again to his senior brothers and made his sleeping quarters in the corridors and verandas.
Early the next morning he joined his senior brothers to learn speech and manners, to discuss the classics and expound the Way, to practice calligraphy and burn incense—and so it went every day. In his spare hours he swept the grounds and hoed the garden, tended flowers and pruned trees, gathered firewood and lit fires, carried water and hauled tubs of whatever was needed. Nothing required was left unfurnished. Unnoticed, six or seven years slipped by in the cave.
One day the Patriarch mounted the altar, sat in his high seat, summoned the immortals, and began to expound the Great Way. Truly:
Heavenly flowers scattered down in showers; Golden lotuses welled up from the earth. Marvelously he expounded the doctrine of the Three Vehicles; Subtle and fine, the ten thousand laws complete. Slowly he swayed his chowry tail, scattering pearls and jade; His voice rolled like thunder, stirring the ninefold heavens. Now he spoke of the Way, now discoursed upon Chan— The three teachings blended, as they are at root. One single word he opened into the truth of devotion, Pointing beyond birth and death, into the mystery of one's nature.
Sun Wukong, listening at the side, was so delighted that he scratched his ears and rubbed his cheeks, his brows blossoming, his eyes smiling. Unable to contain himself, his hands began to dance and his feet to stamp.
Suddenly the Patriarch caught sight of him and called: "Sun Wukong! Why are you capering and dancing about in the ranks instead of listening to my discourse?"
Wukong said: "Your disciple was listening with all his heart, and when I heard the wondrous notes of the Master's voice, I could not contain my joy, and so, unawares, I began to bound about like this. I beg the Master's pardon!"
The Patriarch said: "Since you can recognize wondrous notes, let me ask you: how long have you been in this cave?" Wukong said: "Your disciple was dull from the start and has never known the seasons. All I remember is that when the hearth went cold I would go behind the mountain to cut firewood, and there I found a hill of fine peach trees. I have eaten my fill of peaches there seven times."
The Patriarch said: "That hill is called Rotten Peach Mountain. If you have eaten your fill seven times, then seven years must have passed. And now—what Way would you learn from me?" Wukong said: "Whatever the Master in his wisdom sees fit to teach. If there is any breath of the Way in it, your disciple will learn it."
The Patriarch said: "Within the gate of the word 'Way' there are three hundred and sixty side-doors, and every side-door has its fruits of perfection. Which door would you learn?"
Wukong said: "As the Master pleases. Your disciple will follow with all his heart."
The Patriarch said: "Shall I teach you the Way of the side-door of 'Art'?" Wukong said: "What does the Way of the Art-door amount to?" The Patriarch said: "The Art-door includes summoning immortals, consulting the planchette, divining by lots and yarrow stalks—arts by which one may know how to seek fortune and shun calamity." Wukong said: "Can such things win one eternal life?" The Patriarch said: "They cannot! They cannot!" Wukong said: "Then I won't learn it! I won't learn it!"
The Patriarch said: "Shall I teach you the Way of the side-door of 'Stillness'?"
Wukong said: "What fruits of perfection lie in the Stillness-door?" The Patriarch said: "This is the practice of fasting from grain, of guarding quietude and doing nothing, of sitting in meditation and trance, of keeping silence and holding the fast—sleeping exercises, standing exercises, entering trance, sitting out the seclusion." Wukong said: "Can that too win eternal life?"
The Patriarch said: "It is like an unfired brick." Wukong laughed: "Master, you're at it again! I've told you I don't understand your slang. What do you mean, 'an unfired brick'?" The Patriarch said: "Just as at the mouth of a kiln a brick may be shaped and formed but has not yet passed through fire and water: the moment a great rain comes pouring down, it will crumble away." Wukong said: "That's not lasting either. I won't learn it! I won't learn it!"
The Patriarch said: "Shall I teach you the Way of the side-door of 'Action'?"
Wukong said: "And what is the Way of the Action-door?" The Patriarch said: "This is the practice of doing and making: harvesting the yin to mend the yang, drawing the bow and treading the crossbow, rubbing the navel and passing the breath, working compounds in the alchemical furnace, burning the毛 herbs and firing the cauldron, taking in red lead, refining the autumn-mineral stone, drinking women's milk—things of that sort." Wukong said: "Can these too win eternal life?" The Patriarch said: "To seek eternal life that way is like scooping the moon out of the water." Wukong said: "There you go again, Master! What do you mean, 'scooping the moon out of the water'?" The Patriarch said: "The moon hangs in the wide sky; its reflection lies in the water. Though you see it plainly, there is nothing there to lay hold of—in the end it comes to nothing at all." Wukong said: "I won't learn that either! I won't learn it!"
At these words the Patriarch cried "Pah!", leapt down from the high seat, ruler in hand, and pointing at Wukong said: "You ape! You won't learn this and you won't learn that—just what is it you're waiting for?"
He stepped forward, rapped Wukong three times on the head, then walked away with his hands clasped behind his back, went inside, shut the middle door, and left the whole assembly standing there.
The audience of listeners was frightened out of its wits, and everyone blamed Wukong: "You wretched monkey, what manners are these! The Master was offering to transmit the Way to you—why wouldn't you learn, and why did you bandy words with him? Now you've offended him, who knows when he'll come out again!"
They all complained of him, despised him, and shunned him. But Wukong was not the least bit angry—he only smiled and smiled. For the Monkey King had already solved the riddle of the plate and held the answer secretly in his heart, which is why he did not quarrel with the others but only endured in silence. The Patriarch's three raps on his head meant that he should fix his mind on the third watch of the night; his walking away with hands clasped behind his back and shutting the middle door meant that Wukong should enter by the back door, so that the Way might be transmitted to him in secret.
That day Wukong mingled happily with the rest before the Cave of the Three Stars, watching the sky and wishing evening would hurry. At dusk he went to bed with the others, feigned sleep, and stilled his breath and composed his spirit. There was no watchman's clapper or water-clock in the mountains to mark the hours, so he simply regulated the breath passing in and out of his nostrils.
Around the hour of Zi he rose softly, dressed, quietly opened the front door, slipped away from the others, and stepped outside. Lifting his head, he looked about. Truly:
The moon was bright, the white dew cold; The eight ends of the world were far and free of dust. Deep in the trees the hidden birds were sleeping; From the spring's source the water came whispering down. Fireflies scattered their glimmering shadows; Passing wild geese wrote their characters on the clouds. It was the very hour of the third watch— The hour to seek the truth of the Way.
Watch him take the old path to the back door: there it stood, half open. Wukong rejoiced: "The Master truly means to transmit the Way to me—that's why he left the door open." He tiptoed forward, slipped sideways through the door, and walked straight to the Patriarch's sleeping couch. The Patriarch lay curled up, facing inward, asleep. Not daring to wake him, Wukong knelt before the couch. Before long the Patriarch awoke, stretched out his legs, and chanted to himself:
Hard! Hard! Hard! The Way is deepest mystery— Do not take the golden elixir lightly. Unless you meet a perfected one to pass on the secret, Your tongue will only dry, expounding words in vain!
Wukong answered at once: "Master, your disciple has been kneeling here waiting a long while."
Hearing Wukong's voice, the Patriarch rose, threw on his clothes, sat cross-legged, and snapped: "You ape! Why aren't you asleep out front, instead of coming round to my back quarters?" Wukong said: "Yesterday before the altar the Master gave his consent before all of us: he would teach your disciple at the third watch, through the back door. That is why I made bold to come straight to your couch." Hearing this, the Patriarch was greatly pleased, and thought to himself: "This fellow truly was engendered by Heaven and Earth—otherwise, how could he have cracked my hidden riddle of the plate?"
Wukong said: "There are no 'six ears' in this place—only your disciple, alone. I beg the Master, in his great mercy, to transmit to me the Way of eternal life. I shall never forget the kindness!" The Patriarch said: "You have the destiny for it, and I am glad to speak of it. Since you understood the hidden riddle of the plate, come near, listen closely, and I will transmit to you the marvelous Way of long life." Wukong knocked his head in thanks, washed his ears, gave his whole mind, and knelt beneath the couch.
The Patriarch said:
The true and wondrous secret, open and occult at once— For cultivating life itself, there is no other doctrine. All comes down to essence, breath, and spirit: Guard them firmly, let nothing leak away. Let nothing leak away—store them within the body; Receive my transmission, and your Way will flourish. Keep the oral formula in mind: it profits much; Cast out evil desire, and gain the clear coolness. Gain the clear coolness, and the light shines pure— Then on the elixir terrace you may enjoy the bright moon. The moon conceals the Jade Hare; the sun conceals the Crow; Of themselves, tortoise and serpent coil together. Coiling together, your life stands firm— You can plant golden lotuses in the very fire. Gather the Five Elements and use them upside down; When the work is done, you become at will a Buddha or an Immortal.
Now that the root was laid bare, Wukong's spirit was quick and fortune smiled upon him; he engraved the oral formula upon his memory, bowed deep thanks to the Patriarch, and went out the back door to look. The eastern sky was faintly paling toward white; in the west the golden light still blazed bright.
By the old path he came round to the front door, gently pushed it open, went in, and sat down in his old sleeping place, deliberately rattling the bed and calling: "It's light! It's light! Time to get up!"
The others were still fast asleep, with no notion that Wukong had already gained his great prize. From that day on he played the fool among them, secretly keeping up his practice, regulating his breath before Zi and after Wu.
Three more years passed in this way. Then the Patriarch again mounted his seat and expounded the Dharma for the assembly—discoursing now on koans and figures of speech, now on outward appearances and their husks.
Suddenly he asked: "Where is Wukong?" Wukong came forward and knelt: "Your disciple is here." The Patriarch said: "What Way have you been cultivating all this while?" Wukong said: "Of late your disciple's knowledge of Dharma-nature has grown sound, and the root grows daily firmer." The Patriarch said: "Since you know Dharma-nature and have grasped the root, the spiritual body is already assured. But you must still beware the Three Calamities." Hearing this, Wukong pondered a long time and said: "Master, your words are mistaken. I have always heard that when the Way is high and virtue deep, one lives as long as Heaven itself; when water and fire are in balance, no illness arises. How can there be any 'Three Calamities'?"
The Patriarch said: "This Way of yours is no ordinary way: it seizes upon the creative power of Heaven and Earth and intrudes upon the hidden springs of sun and moon. Once the elixir is achieved, ghosts and gods cannot tolerate you. You will keep your youthful looks and lengthen your years—but five hundred years on, Heaven will send down the Calamity of Thunder to strike you. You must see into your nature and clarify your mind, and slip out of its way beforehand. Escape it, and your lifespan will equal Heaven's; fail to escape, and your life ends then and there. Another five hundred years, and Heaven will send down the Calamity of Fire to burn you. This fire is no fire of Heaven and no common fire—it is called Yin Fire. It rises from the Bubbling Spring point in the sole of your foot, burns straight through to the crown palace, turns your five organs to ash and your four limbs to rot, and makes a thousand years of bitter practice all an empty dream. Another five hundred years, and the Calamity of Wind comes blowing upon you. This wind is no east, west, south, or north wind, no gentle gale or keen northwester, no breeze through flowers, willows, pines, or bamboo—it is called the Wind of Pi. It blows in through the fontanelle into the six organs, passes the elixir field, pierces the nine apertures, dissolves flesh and bone, and the body falls apart of itself. So you must learn to escape them all."
At these words Wukong's hair stood on end, and he knocked his head and bowed: "I implore the Master, in his mercy, to teach me the means of escaping the Three Calamities. I will never dare forget the kindness."
The Patriarch said: "That is not difficult either. Only you are not like other men, and so it cannot be transmitted." Wukong said: "My head is as round as any man's and holds up the sky; my feet are as square and tread the earth; I have my nine apertures and four limbs, my five organs and six viscera—how am I not like other men?" The Patriarch said: "You look like a man, indeed—but you have no cheeks." (For the monkey's face is all bony angles, hollow-cheeked and sharp-muzzled.)
Wukong felt his own face and laughed: "Master, you didn't reckon on this! True, I have no cheeks—but I have this crop-sack that men lack. It more than balances the account!"
The Patriarch said: "Very well then. Which will you learn? There is one series, the numbers of the Heavenly Constellations, which comprises thirty-six transformations; and one series, the numbers of the Earthly Fiends, which comprises seventy-two transformations." Wukong said: "Your disciple would rather cast his net wide—I'll learn the seventy-two transformations of the Earthly Fiends." The Patriarch said: "In that case, come forward, and I will give you the formula." He leaned to Wukong's ear and spoke low—and who knows what marvelous method he imparted.
When one aperture opens, a hundred apertures open: this Monkey King learned the formula, practiced and refined it on his own, and mastered all seventy-two transformations.
One day the Patriarch was enjoying the evening scene before the Cave of the Three Stars with his disciples. He said: "Wukong, is the business accomplished or not?" Wukong said: "Thanks to the Master's oceanic grace, your disciple's work is complete: I can already rise upon the rosy clouds and fly." The Patriarch said: "Show me this flying of yours."
Wukong showed his mettle: he crouched, sprang, tumbled head over heels, leapt five or six zhang off the ground, and went skipping along the clouds for about the time it takes to eat a bowl of rice—but to and fro he covered hardly three li. Dropping down before the Master, he folded his arms and said: "Master, that is flying, soaring upon the clouds."
The Patriarch laughed: "That can't be called soaring upon clouds—crawling upon clouds, at best. As the old saying goes: 'The immortals of a morning roam the Northern Sea, and by dusk are in Cangwu.' With your half-day's effort covering less than three li, you can hardly even be called a cloud-crawler!" Wukong said: "What does 'roam the Northern Sea of a morning and Cangwu by dusk' mean?" The Patriarch said: "Those who truly ride the clouds rise of a morning from the Northern Sea, roam the Eastern Sea, the Western Sea, and the Southern Sea, and then return to Cangwu—and Cangwu is but another name for Lingling on the Northern Sea. To cross all the seas and all that lies beyond them in a single day—that is riding the clouds." Wukong said: "That is hard! Very hard!" The Patriarch said: "Nothing in this world is hard—only fear the man who sets his heart on it." At this Wukong knocked his head and bowed, and entreated: "Master, 'if you would do a man a favor, do it whole.' Show me the great mercy once more: teach me, along with the rest, this method of riding the clouds, and I will never dare forget the kindness."
The Patriarch said: "When the immortals ride the clouds, they all rise by stamping their feet. You are not of that sort. Just now I watched you go—only with a tumble and a jump did you get up into the air. I shall take that very manner of yours and teach you the Somersault Cloud." Wukong bowed and begged again, and the Patriarch gave him another formula, saying: "With this cloud, make the seal, recite the true words, clench your fists tight, give your body one shake, and spring up—one somersault, and you are eighteen thousand leagues away!"
The others all tittered: "Lucky Wukong! If you learn that trick, you could hire out as a courier—delivering letters and dispatches, anywhere at all—and never want for your rice!"
When dusk fell, master and disciples went back into the cave. That night Wukong exercised his spirit and refined the method until he had mastered the Somersault Cloud. From day to day, free and unfettered, he reveled in the joys of this deathless life.
One day, as spring gave way to summer, the assembly had been talking for hours beneath the pines.
" Wukong," they said, "what karma did you cultivate in some former life? The other day the Master whispered in your ear and taught you the transformations that escape the Three Calamities—have you learned them all?"
Wukong laughed: "I'll not hide it from you, brothers. For one thing, the Master did transmit them; for another, I toiled day and night. Yes—I've learned the whole of them." The others said: "While the hour is good, give us a demonstration. Let us see." Wukong, flattered, shook out his spirit and prepared to show off: "Brothers, give me a subject. What shall I become?" They said: "Turn into a pine tree, then."
Wukong made the seal, recited the spell, shook his body, and changed—and became a pine tree. Truly:
Lush and green, wreathed in mist through all four seasons, Soaring to the clouds, upright in its noble form. Not one trace of the demon monkey about it— All is bough that endures the frost and bears the snow.
The assembly clapped and roared with laughter: "Good monkey! Good monkey!" Their uproar, unheeded, disturbed the Patriarch.
He came hurrying out, staff in hand: "Who is making this racket?"
At his call the others hastily composed themselves, straightened their robes, and came forward.
Wukong resumed his true form, and mixed among them said: "May it please the Master—we were only holding our discussions here. There was no outsider making trouble."
The Patriarch shouted in anger: "You lot, bawling and shouting—it's no way for cultivators of the Way to carry on! For those who practice, the moment the mouth opens, spirit and breath scatter; the moment the tongue moves, right and wrong are born. How dare you laugh and clamor here?" The disciples said: "We would not presume to hide it from you, Master: Sun Wukong was just now performing transformations for fun. We bade him turn into a pine tree, and he did indeed become a pine tree. We applauded and cheered him, and so raised our voices and disturbed you. We beg forgiveness." The Patriarch said: "Rise, all of you." Then he called: "Wukong, come here! What spirit were you showing off? What pine tree did you become? Is this a skill to be flaunted before others? Suppose you see that another has a skill—will you not beg him for it? Suppose others see that you have one—they will certainly beg you. If you fear the trouble it brings, you will have to teach it; if you refuse to teach it, they will surely do you harm—and then your life will not be safe." Wukong knocked his head: "I only hope the Master will forgive me!" The Patriarch said: "I do not blame you. Only—go."
At these words Wukong's eyes filled with tears: "Master, where am I to go?" The Patriarch said: "Wherever you came from—there you must return." Wukong awoke at once: "I came from the Water Curtain Cave on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, in the country of Aolai, in the Eastern Continent of Superior Body." The Patriarch said: "Go back quickly, and preserve your life. You may not remain here!" Wukong accepted his sentence: "I must inform the Master: I have been away from home twenty years now. Glad as I am to think of seeing my old children and grandchildren again, I cannot forget the Master's great kindness, still unrepaid—and so I dare not go."
The Patriarch said: "What talk is this of kindness and duty? Only see to it that you get into no trouble that drags me in with you!"
Seeing there was no help for it, Wukong could only bow farewell and take leave of the assembly. The Patriarch said: "Mark this: go your way, and mischief is sure to follow you. Whatever evil you do, however violent the deeds—you are not, on any account, to say you are my disciple. Utter so much as half a word of it, and I shall know of it: I will have that ape of yours flayed and your bones sawn asunder, and your soul banished to the Ninth Dark Abyss, never through ten thousand kalpas to rise again!" Wukong said: "I would never dare mention the Master—not one word. I shall say only that I learned it all myself."
Wukong gave thanks, withdrew at once, made the seal, and with one tumbling bound leapt onto the Somersault Cloud and made straight for the Eastern Sea. In less than a single watch he already sighted the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit and the Water Curtain Cave. The Handsome Monkey King, knowing his own happiness, murmured to himself:
When I departed, my mortal bones and mortal flesh were heavy; Now, having gained the Way, my body is light, and lightly I move. In all the world no man will set his heart upon the Way— But set your heart on the mystery, and the mystery explains itself. Then, crossing the ocean, the waves forbade all passage; Today I come and go, and the road is easy. My master's parting words still ring within my ears— Who would have thought to see the Eastern Sea so soon?
Wukong brought his cloud down and went straight to the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, following the paths. Suddenly he heard cranes crying and gibbons wailing—the cranes' cries piercing beyond the empyrean, the gibbons' wailing so piteous it wounded the heart.
He called out at once: "Children! I have come!"
From beneath the cliffs, from the rock hollows, from among the flowers and grass, from within the trees, monkeys great and small leapt out by the thousands and tens of thousands, and thronged round the Handsome Monkey King, kowtowing and crying: "Great King, how could you be so careless of us! Why did you stay away so long? You left us stranded here, longing for you as the hungry long for food! Of late a demon has been tyrannizing us, trying to force us out of the Water Curtain Cave. We have fought him with our lives, holding him off. But these past days the villain has carried off our household goods and seized numbers of our children and nephews, and kept us sleepless day and night, guarding what was left of our home. Thank Heaven the Great King has come! Had you stayed away another year, mountain and cave alike would have belonged to another!"
Wukong's rage flared: "What demon dares behave so outrageously! Tell me all, in detail, and I'll seek him out and be avenged."
The monkeys knocked their heads: "We report to the Great King: the villain styles himself the Demon King of Havoc, and lives somewhere due north of here." Wukong said: "How far is it from here to his place?" The monkeys said: "He comes by cloud and goes by mist, by wind or rain, by lightning or thunder—we've no idea how far." Wukong said: "Then never fear. Go and play while I go find him!"
What a Monkey King! He sprang up, tumbled through the air, and went by one straight series of somersaults until he came due north and looked about. There stood a mountain, perilous and steep beyond words. A fine mountain:
Sheer brushstroke peaks thrust upward; Winding ravines run deep below. Sheer peaks pierce the empty sky; Deep ravines open into the gates of earth. Flowers and trees vie in wonder on the two cliffs; Pines and bamboo match their green in place after place. On the left, a dragon, tame and docile; On the right, a tiger, crouched and quiet. Iron oxen are often seen at the plowing; Golden coins are ever scattered in the sowing. Hidden birds pour forth their warbling notes; The scarlet phoenix stands facing the morning sun. Rocks glint and glimmer; waters lie clear and clean— All strange and twisting, savage and grim. Countless are the famous mountains of the world, With flowers that bloom and fall and crowds of weeds; But where else does a scene endure forever thus, Unmoved through all the eight seasons and four times of year? Truly the Mountain of the Source of the Pass, of the Three Realms, Nourishing the Water Cave of the Viscera of the Five Elements!
As the Handsome Monkey King stood silently taking in the view, he heard the sound of voices. He went straight down the mountain to find them, and there before the steep cliff was the very cave—the Water Cave of the Viscera. Outside the cave door several little demons were dancing, but at the sight of Wukong they bolted.
Wukong called: "Hold! Lend me the words of your mouth to carry the matter in my heart. I am the master of the Water Curtain Cave on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, due south of here. What 'Demon King of Havoc' of yours has bullied my children and grandchildren again and again? I have come especially to settle accounts with him!"
The little demons scurried into the cave and reported: "Great King! Trouble!" The Demon King said: "What trouble?" The little demons said: "There's a monkey-head outside who calls himself master of the Water Curtain Cave on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit. He says you've bullied his children and grandchildren over and over, and he's come especially to settle accounts with you." The Demon King laughed: "I've often heard those monkey spirits speak of a king of theirs who went off to cultivate the Way. He must be the one who's come. What did he look like? What weapons has he?" The little demons said: "He had no weapons at all. Bare head, one red garment, a yellow sash at his waist, a pair of black boots on his feet—neither monk nor layman, no Taoist, no immortal—empty-handed, shouting at the door."
The Demon King said: "Bring my armor and my weapon!" The little demons brought them at once.
The Demon King donned helm and mail, seized his cutlass, and with his host of demons came out the door, calling in a loud voice: "Which of you is the master of the Water Curtain Cave?"
Wukong opened his eyes wide and looked. And there was the Demon King:
On his head a helmet of black gold, glittering in the sun; On his body a gown of black gauze, streaming in the wind. Below, black iron armor, lashed tight with leather thongs; On his feet embroidered boots—stately as a general. Ten arm-spans round the waist, three zhang tall, A single cutlass in his hand, its blade exceeding bright. Called the Demon King of Havoc— A burly, brutal, fearsome sight.
The Monkey King shouted: "You insolent fiend! Are your eyes so big you can't see Old Sun!"
The Demon King looked and laughed: "You're not four feet tall, not thirty years old, and empty-handed. Where do you find the insolence to come seeking accounts with me?" Wukong cursed: "You blind fiend! You think me small—growing big would be no trouble. You think me weaponless—these two hands of mine could pluck the moon from the sky's edge! Don't be afraid—just take a punch from Old Sun!" With a bound he leapt up and struck straight at the Demon King's face.
The Demon King thrust out a hand and blocked him: "A shrimp like you against my height—if I used my blade on you, I'd be laughed at for killing a man with a weapon. Let me set my cutlass aside and try a round of fisticuffs with you."
Wukong said: "Fair words! A stout fellow! Come on!" The Demon King dropped his stance and struck; Wukong ducked in, butting and countering. The two of them traded punches and kicks, charging and clashing. A long swing, though heavy, leaves gaps; short blows are close-knit and sure. Wukong worked the short ribs, rammed him in the groin, and with a few well-placed blows hurt him badly. The Demon King twisted aside, snatched up his great steel cutlass, and hacked at Wukong's skull.
Wukong sprang clear, and the blade cut only air. Seeing how fierce the Demon King was, Wukong used the method of the body outside the body: he plucked a handful of hairs, crammed them into his mouth, chewed them to bits, and spat them into the air, crying "Change!"—and they became two or three hundred little monkeys, clustering thick on every side.
For when a man attains the immortal body and can project his spirit in transformations, no form is unknown to him. Since gaining the Way, this Monkey King had on his body eighty-four thousand hairs, every single one able to transform, taking shape at will. Those little monkeys were sharp-eyed and nimble: blades could not touch them, spears could not wound them.
Watch them leap and dart, swarming up, surrounding the Demon King—hugging him, dragging him, diving between his legs, wrenching at his feet, kicking and biting, plucking his hair, gouging at his eyes, tweaking his nose, pummeling him—till they had him battered into a huddle. Then Wukong himself snatched away the cutlass, parted the little monkeys, and with one stroke split the Demon King's crown clean in two. Leading his host, he stormed into the cave and exterminated every demon, great and small.
One shake of his hairs, and they returned to his body.
But some would not come back to him: these were the little monkeys the Demon King had captured from the Water Curtain Cave. Wukong asked them: "How did you come to be here?" There were some fifty or so, all tearful: "Ever since the Great King went off to seek immortality, this villain has plagued us these two years, and finally swept us off and carried us here. And look—isn't that the household gear from our cave? Stone basins and stone bowls—he's carried them all off too." Wukong said: "Since it's our gear, carry it all outside." Then he set fire to the cave and burned the Water Cave of the Viscera dry and bare, so that all returned to one substance.
He said to the assembled monkeys: "Follow me home." The monkeys said: "Great King, when he brought us here we heard nothing but wind past our ears and floated, light as air, to this place. We never learned the road—how are we to get home?" Wukong said: "That was just one of his little spells—nothing hard about it! Now that one aperture in me is open, all are open: I can work it too. Shut your eyes and don't be afraid!"
What a Monkey King! He recited the spell, summoned a raging wind, and brought the cloud-heads down. "Children—open your eyes!" The monkeys' feet touched solid ground, and they knew their homeland. Every one of them rejoiced and dashed along the old road toward the cave door. The monkeys within came crowding out, and all thronged in together, ranked by age, to bow in homage to the Monkey King. They set out wine and fruit, welcomed him home, offered congratulations, and begged to hear how he had conquered the demon and rescued their children.
Wukong told the whole story in detail, and the monkeys could not praise him enough: "Great King—who would have thought that wherever you went, you'd learn arts like these!"
Wukong went on: "When I left you all those years ago, I drifted with the waves, floated across the Eastern Sea, and came to the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa. There I learned to look like a man, put on these clothes, wore these boots, and swaggered my way about for eight or nine years—yet never found the Way. Then I crossed the Western Ocean, came to the Western Continent of Cattle-Gift, and searched a long, long time, until at last I met an old Patriarch who transmitted to me the true attainment of a lifespan equal to Heaven's, the great gate of immortality." The monkeys offered their congratulations.
Then Wukong laughed again: "Little ones, there is more cause for joy: I now have a surname." The monkeys asked: "What surname, Great King?" Wukong said: "My surname is now Sun; my religious name is Wukong." Hearing this, the monkeys clapped in delight: "The Great King is Old Sun—then we are all Second Sun, Third Sun, Youngest Sun, Little Sun—a family of Suns, a kingdom of Suns, a whole nest of Suns!" They all came to flatter Old Sun, and with great bowls and little dishes, coconut wine and grape wine, immortal flowers and immortal fruits—what a household joy it was!
Oh!
One surname runs through him all, and his body has come home to its root; He needs only the honor of enrollment upon the registers of the immortals.
But as for how it all turned out, and how his days in that realm began and ended—listen to the explanation in the next chapter.