Chapter 2: Wukong Grasps Bodhi's Wondrous Truth; Cutting Off the Demon, He Returns to the Root and Joins the Primal Spirit

Now then: once the Handsome Monkey King had received his name, he was wild with delight. He bowed and thanked Patriarch Subhuti over and over. The Patriarch ordered the other immortals to lead Sun Wukong outside the second gate and teach him the rules of sweeping, answering, advancing, retreating, and the proper courtesies of the place. The assembled immortals obeyed and took him out.

Wukong bowed to all his elder brothers and was given a place to sleep under the corridors. The next morning he began learning speech and manners with the others, discussing the scriptures and the Way, practicing characters, and burning incense. Day after day he did the same.

When there was leisure, he swept the ground, hoed the garden, tended flowers and trees, fetched firewood, lit the fires, carried water, and pounded grain. Whatever was needed in the cave, he supplied. Before he knew it, six or seven years had slipped by.

One day the Patriarch mounted the high platform, called the immortals together, and began expounding the Great Way. Truly:

Flowers fell from the sky; golden lotus blossoms sprang from the earth.
He gave wondrous expression to the teachings of the Three Vehicles and laid bare the utmost subtlety of the ten thousand laws.
As he slowly waved his fly-whisk, pearls and jade seemed to pour from it;
his voice rang like thunder and shook the nine heavens.
For a while he spoke of the Way, for a while of Chan,
showing how the three teachings accord by nature.
With a single word he opened clear understanding and brought it back to sincerity;
with one gesture he pointed toward the mystery of the unborn and the truth of selfhood.

Sun Wukong listened from one side, so delighted that he scratched his ears, rubbed his cheeks, grinned till his brows danced, and before he knew it began waving his hands and stamping his feet. The Patriarch caught sight of him and called out:

"Sun Wukong! Why are you fidgeting and dancing in the ranks instead of listening to my lecture?"

Wukong said, "Your disciple truly is listening. But when your masterly voice reaches some wondrous turn, joy gets the better of me, and I can't help but show it. I beg Master to forgive the offense."

The Patriarch said, "If you can recognize wondrous teaching, then let me ask you this: how long have you been in the cave?"

Wukong answered, "Your disciple was too ignorant to keep count of the time. I only remember that when there was no fire in the kitchen I often went behind the mountain to cut wood, and there I found a fine peach grove. I've eaten my fill of those peaches seven times."

"That mountain is called Rotten Peach Mountain," said the Patriarch. "If you've eaten your fill there seven times, then it must have been seven years. Now tell me: what art do you wish to learn from me?"

Wukong said, "I will follow whatever Master teaches. So long as it has some breath of the Way in it, your disciple will learn it."

The Patriarch said, "Within the gate of the Way there are three hundred and sixty side doors, and every side door has its own proper fruit. I do not know which one you would learn."

Wukong said, "Everything rests with Master's will. Your disciple will listen with his whole heart."

"Then how about the art of the shu gate?" asked the Patriarch.

"What is taught in the shu gate?"

"In the shu gate are such things as summoning immortals, invoking phoenix-writing, divination, and stalk-casting, by which one may know how to seek good fortune and avoid disaster."

Wukong asked at once, "Can one gain immortality by such arts?"

"No. No."

"Then I won't learn them. I won't."

The Patriarch said, "Then shall I teach you the liu gate?"

Wukong asked, "And what principle lies in the liu gate?"

"In the liu gate are the schools of Confucians, Buddhists, Taoists, yin-yang masters, Mohists, physicians, and the like: reading scriptures, chanting Buddha's name, worshiping the True Ones, calling down the saints, and such matters."

Wukong said, "Can one gain immortality by such things?"

The Patriarch said, "If you want immortality from them, it is like setting a pillar inside a wall."

Wukong said, "Master, I am an honest fellow and do not understand market sayings. What does 'setting a pillar inside a wall' mean?"

The Patriarch said, "When men build a house and want to make it firm, they sometimes prop a pillar inside the wall. But if one day the great building is about to fall, that pillar rots with it."

Wukong said, "Then it does not last long. I won't learn that either."

The Patriarch said, "Then how about the jing gate?"

Wukong said, "And what proper fruit belongs to the jing gate?"

"It includes abstaining from grain, guarding the body's essence, purity and non-action, sitting in meditation, observing silence, keeping the fast, sleeping practices, standing practices, entering samadhi, retreating behind closed doors, and the like."

Wukong said, "Can such things also lead to immortality?"

The Patriarch said, "That is like an unfired clay brick at the mouth of a kiln."

Wukong laughed. "Master, there you go again. A moment ago you said I couldn't understand market sayings. What do you mean by an unfired clay brick at the kiln mouth?"

The Patriarch said, "It is like a brick or roof tile shaped in wet clay and set by the kiln. Though formed, it has not yet passed through water and fire. Let one heavy rain come down, and it melts to mud."

Wukong said, "Then that too is not long-lasting. I won't learn it."

The Patriarch said, "Then how about the dong gate?"

Wukong asked, "And what does the dong gate teach?"

"There one studies deliberate and active methods: drawing yin to nourish yang, stretching bows and bracing crossbows, rubbing the navel and circulating breath, compounding medicines, tending furnaces and crucibles, feeding in red lead, refining mineral essences, even taking women's milk, and such practices."

Wukong said, "Can one gain immortality that way?"

The Patriarch said, "To seek immortality by that road is like trying to scoop the moon out of water."

Wukong said, "Master's at it again. What do you mean by scooping the moon out of water?"

The Patriarch said, "The moon hangs in the sky, and its image appears in water. You may see it clearly, but there is nothing there to seize. In the end you grasp only emptiness."

Wukong said, "Then I won't learn that either. I won't."

At this the Patriarch barked out a sharp cry, sprang down from the platform, snatched up his rule, and pointed it at Wukong.

"You monkey! You won't learn this, you won't learn that. What then are you waiting for?"

He strode forward and struck Wukong three times on the head. Then, with his hands clasped behind his back, he walked inside, shut the middle door, and left the whole assembly where they sat.

All the listeners were frightened out of their wits. They blamed Wukong bitterly.

"You miserable monkey! Shame on you. Master was willing to teach you the Way, and instead of learning, you argued back. Now you've offended him. Who knows when he'll come out again?"

All of them resented him, scorned him, and looked down on him. But Wukong did not grow angry in the least. He only smiled and smiled.

For the Monkey King had already cracked the secret hidden in the game. That was why he did not quarrel with the others but endured everything in silence. Those three blows, he understood, meant that he should keep the matter in heart until the third watch of the night. The Patriarch's hands behind his back as he went within, and his shutting of the middle door, meant that Wukong was to come through the back entrance and there be taught the secret doctrine.

That whole day Wukong stayed with the others before the Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars, all smiles and cheer, but inwardly he was only waiting for darkness and could hardly bear the slowness of the sky. At dusk he lay down with the others and pretended to sleep, fixing his breath and steadying his spirit. There was no night-watch drum in the mountain, no time-arrow to mark the hours. He could only regulate the movement of breath in and out through his own nose and estimate for himself the passing of time.

Around the first part of midnight he rose quietly, dressed himself, slipped open the front gate, stole away from the others, and went outside. Looking up, he saw:

The moon shone bright, the clear dew cold;
the eight horizons lay spotless and empty.
Deep in the trees, hidden birds were asleep;
at the springhead water whispered on.
Fireflies flashed and scattered their light;
wild geese crossed the clouds in ordered rows.
It was exactly the hour of the third watch,
the proper time to seek the truth of the Way.

Following the old path, he came round to the back gate and found it standing half-open, half-closed. Wukong rejoiced.

"Master truly did mean to transmit the Way to me," he thought. "That is why he left the door open."

He crept forward, slipped in sideways, and went straight to the foot of the Patriarch's couch. There he found the Patriarch curled up asleep, facing inward. Wukong dared not disturb him and so knelt in silence before the bed.

After a while the Patriarch woke, stretched out both feet, and began to chant softly:

"Hard, hard, hard.
The Way is most mysterious.
Do not treat the Golden Elixir as a common thing.
If you never meet the perfected man who will transmit the subtle formula,
then all your empty words will leave your tongue dry and your mouth worn out."

Wukong answered at once, "Master, your disciple has been kneeling here waiting a long while."

Hearing that it was Wukong, the Patriarch sat up, put on his robe, settled himself cross-legged, and barked:

"You monkey! Why are you not asleep in the front quarters? What are you doing back here?"

Wukong said, "Yesterday before the whole assembly, Master silently agreed that at the third watch I should come through the back door and receive the teaching. So I dared to come kneel by your bed."

When the Patriarch heard this, he was deeply pleased. Secretly he thought, This creature truly was born of heaven and earth. Otherwise how could he have broken the hidden riddle I set before him?

Wukong said, "There is no one else here with six ears to overhear us, only your disciple alone. I beg Master, in your great compassion, teach me the Way of immortality. I will never forget the grace."

"Since you have such affinity," said the Patriarch, "I too am glad to speak. Since you understood the hidden meaning, come closer and listen carefully. I will pass on to you the wondrous Way of long life."

Wukong knocked his head on the floor in thanks, washed out his ears with inward attention, and knelt below the couch.

Then the Patriarch said:

Revealed and hidden, complete and free, here is the true and wondrous formula.
Guard well the life and nature; there is no other teaching.
In the end all comes down to essence, breath, and spirit.
Hold them fast and store them tight. Let nothing leak away.
Let nothing leak away; keep them hidden in the body.
If you receive what I transmit, the Way in you will flourish of itself.
Remember the oral formula. It will do you endless good.
Sweep out perverse desire and you will find cool clarity.
In cool clarity the light shines bright and pure.
Then you may mount the cinnabar terrace and behold the radiant moon.
In the moon lives the jade hare; in the sun, the golden crow.
Turtle and serpent naturally coil and knot together.
Knotted together, life and nature grow firm.
Then within fire itself you may plant the golden lotus.
Gather the Five Phases and use them reversed;
when the work is done, you may become Buddha or immortal as you please.

With that he laid bare the root and source. Wukong felt his heart suddenly illumined and good fortune rise within him. He remembered every oral formula exactly. After bowing in deep thanks to his master, he slipped out the back door and looked up to see the eastern sky just paling white while to the west golden light was already flaring.

He returned by the old path to the front gate, pushed it open quietly, and sat back down where he had slept before. Then, on purpose, he shook the bedding and called out, "Daylight! Daylight! Time to get up!"

The others were still asleep, not knowing that Wukong had already received the great thing. That day he went about with the rest as though nothing had happened, but privately, before noon and after, he regulated his breath and cultivated the teaching within.

Soon three whole years had passed.

Then once more the Patriarch mounted his seat and preached the Dharma before the assembled disciples, discoursing on koans and analogies, inward truth and outward forms. Suddenly he asked, "Where is Wukong?"

Wukong came forward and knelt. "Your disciple is here."

"What Way have you been cultivating lately?"

Wukong said, "Recently my Dharma-nature has grown fairly clear, and my root has gradually become firm."

The Patriarch said, "If your Dharma-nature is open and your root made firm, and if your spirit-body is already taking shape, then there remains only one thing: you must guard against the three calamities."

Hearing this, Wukong brooded for a long while and then said, "Master's words must be mistaken. Have I not always heard that when one's Way is high and virtue full, one's lifespan matches heaven? When water and fire are balanced, no illness is born. How then can there still be something called the three calamities?"

The Patriarch said, "This is no ordinary Way. It steals creation's secrets from heaven and earth and trespasses upon the hidden workings of sun and moon. Once the elixir is complete, ghosts and spirits cannot abide it. Though it may preserve your beauty and lengthen your life, still, after five hundred years a thunder calamity will descend from heaven and strike you down. Only if you have understood your nature and clarified your mind in advance will you know how to escape it. If you escape it, your life will equal heaven's. If not, you die there and then.

"After another five hundred years a fire calamity will descend and burn you. This is not heavenly fire, nor ordinary fire. It is called yin fire. It rises from the bubbling-spring point beneath your own feet, burns upward through the Muddy Pellet Palace, reduces the five organs to ash and the limbs to rot, and turns a thousand years of bitter practice into illusion.

"After yet another five hundred years, a wind calamity will descend. This is not a wind from east, west, south, or north; not the warm wind of spring nor the cold wind of autumn, nor the wind through flowers, willows, pines, or bamboo. It is called the bei wind. It blows in through the crown of the head, passes through the six bowels and the cinnabar field, pierces the nine openings, loosens flesh from bone, and causes the whole body to come apart. Therefore all three must be escaped."

When Wukong heard this, every hair on his body stood up. He bowed and begged:

"I implore Master, in your mercy, teach me the method of escaping the three calamities. I shall never forget the grace."

The Patriarch said, "There is no real difficulty in that. It is only that you are unlike other men, and so the method cannot be taught in the ordinary way."

Wukong said, "I too have a round head under heaven, square feet upon earth, nine openings, four limbs, five organs, and six bowels. How am I unlike other men?"

The Patriarch said, "You may look like a man, but you have less jaw."

For the monkey had a narrow face, hollow cheeks, and a sharp muzzle. Wukong felt his face with one hand and laughed.

"Master, that doesn't count. I may have less jaw than a man, but then again I've got more of this plain old cheek-pouch. Surely that balances it."

The Patriarch said, "Very well, then. Which will you learn? There is one number of Heavenly Stems, amounting to thirty-six transformations, and one number of Earthly Branches, amounting to seventy-two transformations."

Wukong said, "Your disciple would rather rummage through the greater number. Let me learn the transformations of the Earthly Branches."

"If that is what you want, come nearer, and I will pass on the oral formula."

So he bent close and whispered in Wukong's ear. Who knows what marvelous method he taught? But the Monkey King was just such a creature that once one aperture was opened, a hundred all opened with it. He mastered the formula at once, cultivated it by his own effort, and in time learned all Seventy-Two Transformations.

One day the Patriarch and his disciples were amusing themselves before the Cave of the Three Stars, enjoying the late light of evening. The Patriarch asked, "Wukong, is the work complete?"

Wukong replied, "Thanks to Master's ocean-deep grace, your disciple's merit is whole. I am now able to rise into the clouds and fly upward."

"Show me, then."

Wukong displayed his skill. He hunched his shoulders, did a chain of tumbling flips, leapt some five or six zhang into the air, and rode cloud and mist for about the time it takes to eat a meal. But when he dropped back down before them, he had not gone three miles.

With folded hands he said, "Master, that was my rising and riding the clouds."

The Patriarch laughed. "That does not count as cloud-riding. At best it is scrambling up a cloud. The old saying has it that an immortal may leave the North Sea at dawn and arrive in Cangwu by dusk. If you can travel no more than three miles in half a day, then even 'scrambling up a cloud' is too generous."

Wukong asked, "What does it mean, then, to go from the North Sea in the morning to Cangwu by evening?"

The Patriarch said, "Those who truly ride the clouds set out at dawn from the North Sea, travel the Eastern Sea, the Western Sea, and the Southern Sea, and from there turn back to Cangwu. Cangwu is another name for Lingling in the north. To cross the four seas and their farther reaches all within a single day, that is what it means to ride the clouds."

Wukong said, "That is difficult, very difficult indeed."

The Patriarch said, "In all the world nothing is hard for one who sets his heart to it."

Hearing that, Wukong kowtowed and said, "Master, if one is to do something, one must do it thoroughly. Show your great compassion and teach me the method of cloud-riding as well. I will never forget the grace."

The Patriarch said, "All the immortals rise into the clouds by stamping their feet, but you are not built that way. Just now I saw you tumbling before you leapt. Very well. Since that is your natural motion, I will teach you the somersault-cloud."

Wukong kowtowed again and begged for the teaching. The Patriarch then passed him another oral formula and said, "When you gather this cloud, pinch the seal, recite the true words, clench your fist tight, give your body a shake, and leap. One somersault will carry you a hundred and eight thousand miles."

The disciples all burst out laughing. "Wukong's luck is something else. If he learns that method, he can always hire himself out as a messenger, dispatch-runner, or courier and never want for a meal wherever he goes."

By dark master and disciples all went back to their separate quarters. That very night Wukong moved spirit and refined the method until he had mastered the somersault-cloud. Day after day from then on he went as he pleased, loose-limbed and carefree. This too was one of the delights of long life.

One day, as spring turned to summer, the disciples sat beneath the pines discoursing together for some time. They said, "Wukong, by what karmic fortune did you earn such a thing? The other day when Master leaned close and spoke in your ear, he must have taught you the method for escaping the three calamities and making transformations. Have you truly learned it?"

Wukong laughed. "To tell you the truth, elder brothers: first because Master taught it, and second because I've worked at it day and night, I now know the whole lot of those little methods."

The others said, "Then while the weather is so fine, show us something. Let us see it."

Wukong roused his spirit and showed off a little. "Set me a problem, elder brothers. What shall I transform into?"

"Turn into a pine tree."

Wukong pinched the seal, recited the spell, and shook himself once. At once he became a pine tree. Truly:

Dark green with mist through every season,
straight it rose, its upright grace thrusting into the clouds.
Not one trace of a goblin monkey remained;
it was all frost-hardened branches fit to bear the snow.

The disciples clapped and roared with laughter. "Good monkey! Good monkey!"

Their shouting and noise startled the Patriarch. Dragging his staff, he rushed out and cried, "Who is making such a racket here?"

The disciples hurried to compose themselves, straightened their robes, and stepped forward. Wukong too resumed his proper form and stood among them.

"May it please Master," they said, "we were gathered here discussing the teaching. No outsiders are here making noise."

The Patriarch thundered, "Your yelling and shouting do not look in the least like the bearing of those who cultivate the Way. The moment the mouth opens, spirit and breath scatter; once the tongue moves, right and wrong are born. How can you stand here laughing and shouting like this?"

The disciples answered, "We dare not conceal it, Master. Just now Sun Wukong was showing us his transformations for sport. We told him to become a pine tree, and he truly became one. We all praised him and clapped, and in our excitement we raised our voices and disturbed you. We beg forgiveness."

The Patriarch said, "You all may go."

Then he called, "Wukong, come here! Let me ask you: what sort of spirit are you showing off, turning yourself into a pine tree? Is this skill something to be paraded before others? Suppose you see that someone else has it - will you not want to learn it? Suppose others see that you have it - they will certainly want it from you. If you fear trouble, then you will have to teach them. But if you do not teach them, they will certainly try to harm you. In that case your very life may not be safe."

Wukong kowtowed. "I beg Master to forgive the offense."

The Patriarch said, "I do not punish you. You are simply to leave."

When Wukong heard this, tears filled his eyes at once. "Master, where am I to go?"

"Go back where you came from."

All at once Wukong understood. "I came from Flower-Fruit Mountain, Water-Curtain Cave, in Aolai, in the Eastern Victory Continent."

The Patriarch said, "Then go back quickly and preserve your life. If you remain here, it will not do."

Wukong accepted the reprimand but still appealed to his master. "I have been away from home for twenty years. Though I do long to see my old children and grandchildren again, I have not repaid Master's deep kindness and dare not leave."

The Patriarch said, "What kindness is there to repay? It is enough if you do not stir up trouble and drag me into it."

Seeing there was no help for it, Wukong could only bow farewell and take leave of the others. Then the Patriarch said:

"Once you are gone, you are certain to breed nothing but mischief. No matter what disasters you cause or whom you beat and kill, you are not to say you are my disciple. If you let slip even half a word of it, I will know, and I will strip your hide from you, grind your bones to dust, and banish your spirit to the Ninefold Darkness, where through ten thousand kalpas you will never turn over again."

Wukong said, "I would never dare mention Master's name. I will only say that I learned my arts by my own efforts."

Then he thanked the Patriarch, slipped away, pinched the seal, did a chain of tumbling flips, mounted the somersault-cloud, and went straight back east. It took less than an hour before he saw Flower-Fruit Mountain and Water-Curtain Cave again.

The Monkey King, secretly delighted, said to himself:

When I left, my mortal bones and mortal flesh weighed me down;
now that I've gained the Way, my body is light as light.
No one in the world will set his will upon the mystery -
but once the will is set, the mystery makes itself clear.
That day the sea was hard to cross when I went out;
today it is easy beyond belief to come back.
My master's warnings still ring fresh beside my ear,
yet already, in an instant, I see the Eastern Sea.

Wukong pressed his cloud down and went straight to Flower-Fruit Mountain, taking the path on foot. Suddenly he heard cranes crying and apes wailing:

The cranes' cries pierced the outer sky;
the apes' lament was so bitter it wounded the heart.

At once he shouted, "Children! I've come back!"

From the rocky ledges below, from among the flowers and grasses, from the woods and trees, monkeys of every size came leaping out by the tens of thousands and surrounded him. Knocking their heads on the ground, they cried:

"Great King! How could you bear to stay away so long? You left us all here pining for you like the starving for food and the parched for water. Lately a demon has been bullying us here, trying to seize our Water-Curtain Cave. We have fought him with all our strength, ready to die if we must. These past days he has stolen our household goods and carried off many of our children and nephews. Day and night we have had no sleep, guarding what remains of the home. If Your Majesty had stayed away another year or two, the whole mountain and cave would have become his."

When Wukong heard this, anger boiled in his heart.

"What sort of demon dares such insolence? Tell me everything, and I'll go settle the score."

The monkeys kowtowed and said, "Reporting to Your Majesty: the fiend calls himself the Demon King of Havoc in the World. He lives directly to the north, below us."

"How far is it from here to his place?"

"When he comes, it is in cloud; when he goes, it is in mist - sometimes by wind, sometimes by rain, sometimes by lightning, sometimes by thunder. We have no idea how far."

Wukong said, "Then don't be afraid. Go on playing as you please. I'll go look for him and be back."

The fine Monkey King gave one leap, somersaulted all the way north, and there saw a towering mountain, steep and savage in the extreme. A fine mountain indeed:

Brush-peak summits rose upright; winding ravines ran deep.
The brush-like peaks pierced the empty sky; the crooked gullies sank down toward the earth's own gate.
Flowers and trees fought to outdo one another on the two cliffs, and pines and bamboo strove in green brilliance.
On the left a dragon lay tame and mild; on the right a tiger crouched perfectly still.
Now and then iron oxen could be seen plowing; now and then golden coins seemed sown into the ground.
Hidden birds sang sweetly, and red phoenixes stood facing the morning sun.
The rocks shone slick and the water ran clear, yet the whole place was ancient, twisted, and sinister to behold.
The world has many famous mountains, blooming and fading in season;
but where is there another whose scene endures forever, unchanged through all four seasons and all eight festivals?
Truly this was Mount Kan-Source in the Three Realms, with a Water-Viscera Cave nourishing all five phases.

While the Monkey King stood silently admiring the place, he heard voices and went down the slope to seek them out. Beneath a sheer cliff was the Water-Viscera Cave. Outside its gate a few little demons were dancing. The instant they saw Wukong, they ran.

Wukong called, "Don't run! Lend your mouths to carry the thing in my heart. I am the lord of Water-Curtain Cave on Flower-Fruit Mountain in the far south. That bird-demon king of yours has bullied my children time and again. I have come to see him and settle which of us stands higher."

The little demons rushed into the cave and cried, "Great King, disaster!"

"What disaster?"

"Outside stands a monkey-head claiming to be the lord of Water-Curtain Cave on Flower-Fruit Mountain. He says you have bullied his monkey-children time and again, and he has come to settle accounts."

The demon king laughed. "I've often heard those monkey-spirits say they had some king who went away to cultivate the Way. It seems he has come back at last. What sort of appearance does he have? What weapon?"

The little demon said, "He has no weapon at all. Bareheaded, wearing a red robe, belted with yellow cord, black boots on his feet, neither monk nor layman, not quite Taoist and not quite immortal - empty-handed, standing outside and shouting."

The demon king said, "Bring me my armor and my weapon."

The little demons fetched them at once. The demon king armed himself, seized his great blade, and led his horde out of the cave crying, "Which one of you is the lord of Water-Curtain Cave?"

Wukong opened his eyes wide and looked. There stood the fiend:

On his head a black-gold helmet shining in the sun;
on his body a dark silk robe streaming in the wind.
Below that he wore black iron armor, tightly bound with leather thongs;
on his feet patterned boots, proud as a field general's.
His waist was ten arm-spans round, his body thirty feet high.
In one hand he held a broad-bladed saber, bright-edged and deadly sharp.
This was the Demon King of Havoc in the World,
bold in bearing and fierce to behold.

The Monkey King shouted, "You damned demon, what big eyes you have, not to see old Sun standing here!"

The demon king laughed. "Your body is less than four feet high, your age less than thirty years, and you have not so much as a weapon in your hand. How dare you rant and rave and come to settle accounts with me?"

Wukong cursed him. "You stupid demon, so blind you don't know what you see. You think me small? If I wanted to be large, that would be no difficulty at all. You think me unarmed? These two hands of mine hook the moon at heaven's rim. Don't be afraid. Just take one punch from old Sun."

With that he bounded forward and struck at the demon's face. The demon king blocked the blow and said, "You're so short and squat, and I'm so tall and long. You want fists, while I have a saber. If I use the saber and kill you, people will laugh at me. Let me set the blade aside, and we'll trade barehanded blows."

Wukong said, "That's well said. A good fellow, then. Come on."

The demon king threw down his guard and came in swinging. Wukong darted inside and met him blow for blow, kick for kick, charge for charge. Long-arm boxing may look grand, but close work wins. Wukong dug into the fiend's short ribs, smashed his crotch, and with only a few well-landed blows wounded him badly. The demon king sprang back, snatched up his broad steel saber, and hacked straight at Wukong's head. Wukong slipped aside, and the stroke cut only air.

Seeing the fiend's ferocity, Wukong at once used the art of body beyond body. He plucked a handful of hairs, chewed them in his mouth, sprayed them into the air, and cried, "Change!"

At once they became two or three hundred little monkeys surrounding the demon on every side.

For once a man gains an immortal body, spirit and transformation answer without limit. Since attaining the Way, the Monkey King had eighty-four thousand hairs upon him, each one able to change and respond to his will. The little monkeys were quick-eyed and nimble; swords could not catch them and spears could not wound them.

Just look at them: leaping front and back, swarming round the demon king, one hugging him, one pulling him, one diving between his legs, one wrenching at his feet, others kicking, scratching, tearing his hair, gouging his eyes, pinching his nose, pounding and pestering him from every side until they made a living knot around him.

Only then did Wukong seize the fiend's saber. Parting the little monkeys, he brought it down once on the demon king's crown and split him neatly in two. Then he led the troop charging into the cave and slaughtered every large and little demon inside.

After that he gave a shake, and all the hair-monkeys flew back onto his body. Those that did not return proved to be the monkeys the demon had captured from Water-Curtain Cave.

Wukong said, "Why are you all here?"

Some thirty or fifty of them, all in tears, answered, "After Your Majesty went off to cultivate immortality, this fiend spent the last two years harrying us and carried us here. Aren't those our household things over there? Stone basins, stone bowls - he dragged them all away from our cave."

Wukong said, "If those are our household goods, then carry them out at once."

Then he set fire to the cave itself, burning the Water-Viscera Cave dry and clean till everything was brought under one hand again.

"Come now," he said. "All of you follow me home."

The monkeys answered, "Great King, when we were brought here we heard only wind in our ears and floated empty through the air. We do not know the road. How can we find our way back?"

Wukong said, "That was only one of his petty tricks. What's hard about it? Now that one opening in me is clear, a hundred are clear. I can do such tricks too. Shut your eyes, all of you, and don't be afraid."

Then the fine Monkey King recited a spell, summoned a wild wind, and dropped the cloud down to earth.

"Open your eyes, children."

The monkeys found their feet on solid ground and recognized their own home. Every one of them was overjoyed, and all went racing back along the old cave path.

Those who had remained behind in the cave swarmed in with them, crowded around the Monkey King, arranged themselves by age and rank, and bowed before him. Wine and fruit were brought out, a feast laid to welcome him home and celebrate his victory, and all clamored to hear how he had slain the demon and saved their kin.

Wukong told the story in full, and the monkeys praised him without end.

"Great King," they cried, "who could have guessed that on those far shores you would learn such powers?"

Wukong said, "When I left you all, I drifted with the current over the Eastern Sea to the lands of the Southern Jambu Continent. There I learned to take human shape, put on this robe and these shoes, and swaggered about for eight or nine years. Still I found no Way. Then I crossed the Western Sea to the Western Ox Continent, searched for a long time, and at last had the fortune to meet a great patriarch. He taught me the true fruit by which life equals heaven itself and the great gate of deathless immortality."

The monkeys all shouted congratulations. "Such a thing is rarer than anything met in ten thousand kalpas!"

Then Wukong laughed again and said, "Children, there is another joy. All who belong to my line now have surnames."

"What is Your Majesty's surname?"

"I am now surnamed Sun, and my Dharma name is Wukong."

At this the monkeys clapped their hands in delight.

"If the Great King is Old Sun, then we are Second Sun, Third Sun, Little Sun, Tiny Sun, a whole family of Suns, a whole country of Suns, a whole nest of Suns!"

Then they all came crowding round old Sun, offering great bowls and little bowls of coconut wine and grape wine, immortal flowers and immortal fruits. Truly it was joy for the whole household.

Ah:

Through one shared surname the body returns to its root;
what remains is only to wait for the glorious naming in the registers of immortals.

But as for what finally came of all this, and how matters began and ended in that realm, that must wait for the next chapter.