Chapter 2

Awakening Fully to Bodhi's Subtle Truth; Cutting Off Demons and Returning to the Source, the Spirit Becomes Whole

Having received his name, the Handsome Monkey King joyfully bowed to the Patriarch Bodhi and thanked him. The Patriarch told the disciples to lead Sun Wukong beyond the second gate and teach him how to sweep, answer questions, and observe proper manners. They obeyed. Outside, Wukong bowed to his elder fellow disciples and found a place to sleep under the gallery. The next morning he learned speech and etiquette with them, discussed scriptures and the Way, practiced writing, and burned incense. Each day was the same. In spare hours he swept floors, weeded gardens, tended flowers and trees, fetched firewood, lit fires, and carried water and drinks. Nothing needed was lacking. Six or seven years slipped by in the cave.

One day the Patriarch ascended the platform, summoned the immortals, and lectured on the Great Way. Truly:

Heavenly flowers fell in showers; golden lotuses sprang from the earth. He wonderfully expounded the three vehicles and the subtle entirety of the ten thousand teachings. Slowly waving his whisk, he scattered words like pearls and jade; his voice thundered through the nine heavens. For a while he spoke of the Way, then of Chan; the three teachings joined as one, as they had been from the beginning. One illuminating word returned them to the true principle and led them to the mysterious nature beyond birth.

Listening nearby, Sun Wukong was so delighted that he scratched his ears and cheeks, grinned, and could not help dancing. The Patriarch spotted him. “Sun Wukong, why do you dance wildly among the others instead of listening?” “Your disciple listens with all his heart. When I heard your marvelous words, I was overcome with joy and danced without realizing it. Forgive me, Master.” “Since you recognize their excellence, tell me how long you have been in this cave.” “Your disciple has no idea how much time has passed. I only remember that whenever the stove had no firewood I gathered wood behind the mountain. There I found wonderful peach trees, and have eaten my fill of peaches seven times.” “That mountain is called Rotten Peach Mountain. Seven harvests mean seven years, I imagine. What would you like to learn from me now?” “Whatever you teach, honored Master. If it holds the slightest breath of the Way, I will study it.”

“The Way has 360 side paths, all capable of yielding genuine results. Which will you study?” “Whichever you choose, Master; I will obey wholeheartedly.” “What about the path of techniques?” “What does that involve?” “Summoning immortals, consulting planchettes, divining with omens and yarrow stalks: learning how to seek good fortune and avoid disaster.” “Will that make me live forever?” “No.” “Then I won't study it.”

“How about the path of the schools?” “What does that mean?” “The Confucian, Buddhist, Daoist, Yin-Yang, Mohist, and medical schools: reading scriptures, invoking the Buddha, paying homage to the true ones, and inviting sages to descend.” “Will that grant eternal life?” “Seeking eternal life that way is like building a pillar into a wall.” “Master, I'm an honest fellow; I don't understand such riddles. What does ‘building a pillar into a wall’ mean?” “When someone builds a house, he sets a supporting pillar inside the wall to make it strong. When the building falls, the pillar rots with it.” “Then that won't last either. I won't study it.”

“What about the path of stillness?” “What results does that bring?” “Abstaining from grain, cultivating purity and nonaction, meditating in silence, keeping vows of silence and fasting, sleeping or standing practices, entering deep concentration, and solitary retreat.” “Will that grant eternal life?” “It is like an unfired brick beside a kiln.” Wukong laughed. “Master, you're teasing me again. I already said I don't understand riddles. What does an unfired brick mean?” “A brick or tile molded beside a kiln has taken shape, but has not yet been tempered by water and fire. When heavy rain falls it dissolves.” “It won't endure, then. I won't study it.”

“What about the path of action?” “And what is that?” “Active disciplines: gathering yin to replenish yang, drawing bows and treading crossbows, massaging the navel and circulating breath, preparing medicines by formula, burning herbs and working the cauldron, taking red lead, refining autumn stone, and drinking women's milk.” “Will those make me immortal?” “Trying to live forever by these is like fishing for the moon in water.” “There you go again, Master. What does that mean?” “The moon is high in the sky and its reflection appears in water. You can see it, but you cannot grasp it. Your efforts come to nothing.” “I won't study that either.”

The Patriarch snapped at him, sprang from the dais with his disciplinary ruler, and pointed. “You monkey! You refuse this and reject that. What do you want?” He struck Wukong three times on the head, clasped his hands behind his back, entered the inner chambers, and shut the middle gate, leaving everyone behind. The listeners were frightened and reproached Wukong: “You brazen ape! The Master offers you teachings, and you reject them all and talk back. Now that you've offended him, who knows when he'll emerge?” All blamed and despised him. Wukong merely smiled, without a trace of anger. He had already solved the hidden riddle and kept his understanding to himself. Rather than argue, he endured in silence. The three blows to his head meant that he should remember the third watch; the Patriarch's departure with hands clasped behind his back and his closing of the middle gate meant that Wukong should enter by the back door to receive the teaching in secret.

That day Wukong stayed cheerfully with the others outside the Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars, impatient for nightfall. At dusk he went to bed with them, pretended to close his eyes, and quieted his breathing. There were no watchmen or time signals in the mountain; he timed himself by regulating his breath. Near midnight he rose quietly, dressed, slipped through the front door, and stole away. Looking up, he saw:

The moon shone bright, the clear dew cold; to the eight horizons not a speck of dust.Hidden birds slept in deep trees; the source water ran with a gentle sound.Fireflies scattered points of light; passing geese wrote ranks across the clouds.It was just the third watch: time to seek the true Way.

Following the familiar path to the back door, he found it left ajar. “The Master really intends to teach me,” he thought joyfully. “That is why he left the door open.” He slipped inside and approached the Patriarch's bed. The Patriarch lay curled up, facing the wall. Wukong did not dare disturb him and knelt beside the bed. Before long the Patriarch awoke, stretched his legs, and chanted:

“Hard, hard, hard! Most mysterious is the Way; do not treat the golden elixir lightly. Unless you meet a perfect master to impart its secret, empty talk will only dry your tongue!”

Wukong answered: “Master, your disciple has been kneeling here a long time.” Recognizing his voice, the Patriarch sat up, pulled on a robe, and scolded him: “Monkey! Why aren't you sleeping out front? What brings you here?” “Yesterday before everyone you promised to teach me at the third watch, through the back door. So I boldly came to your bedside.” The Patriarch was delighted, thinking: “He really is born of heaven and earth. How else could he have deciphered my secret hint?” Wukong said: “There are no other ears here, Master, only mine. Please have great compassion and teach me how to live forever. I will never forget your kindness.” “You are destined for this, and I am glad to tell you. Since you solved my riddle, come closer and listen carefully. I shall teach you the marvelous Way of eternal life.” Wukong bowed in gratitude and knelt below the bed, listening with his whole heart. The Patriarch said:

The wondrous secret of manifest and hidden, perfection and communion: to cultivate nature and life there is no other teaching.All comes down to essence, breath, and spirit; hold them safe within and let none escape.Let none escape; conceal them in your body. Receive my teaching, and the Way will thrive in you.Remember this formula to gain its many benefits; banish wayward desires and find cool clarity.In cool clarity the light shines pure; on the elixir terrace behold the bright moon.The moon conceals the jade hare, the sun the crow; turtle and snake will entwine of themselves.When they entwine, nature and life grow strong; then you can plant a golden lotus in the fire.Gather the five elements and reverse their working; once the work is done, become Buddha or immortal as you please.

Now that the root had been revealed, understanding came to Wukong and he committed the formula carefully to memory. He bowed in gratitude, then stepped outside. The eastern sky was beginning to pale, while golden light shone in the west. He circled back by the old path, quietly opened the front door, sat down in his former sleeping place, and shook his bed. “It's daylight! Wake up!” The others still slept, unaware of his good fortune. Through the day he behaved as usual, privately maintaining the practice, regulating his breath before midnight and after noon.

Three years passed. The Patriarch again mounted his seat and spoke to the disciples, discussing parables and cases, appearances and outer coverings. Suddenly he asked: “Where is Wukong?” Wukong knelt before him. “Here, Master.” “What have you cultivated lately?” “I now understand the nature of the teaching quite well, and my foundation is growing firm.” “Since you comprehend its nature and root, you have entered the ranks of immortals. But you must guard against the three calamities.” Wukong hesitated. “Master, surely you are mistaken. I have heard that those of high attainment live as long as heaven, and when water and fire are in harmony, they suffer no illness. How can there be three calamities?” “This is an extraordinary Way. It seizes heaven and earth's creative power and steals the secrets of the sun and moon. When the elixir is complete, ghosts and spirits cannot tolerate it. Though your youth and life are prolonged, after five hundred years heaven will send a thunder calamity to strike you. You must understand your nature, illuminate your mind, and evade it in advance. If you do, you live as long as heaven; if not, you die. Five hundred years later heaven sends a fire calamity. This is neither heavenly nor ordinary fire, but ‘yin fire.’ It rises from the Bubbling Spring point beneath your feet and burns up to the Palace of the Mud Pill in your head. Your organs turn to ash, your limbs decay, and a thousand years of hard cultivation comes to nothing. After another five hundred years comes a wind calamity. It is not wind from any of the four directions, nor mild or northern wind, nor the breeze among flowers, willows, pines, or bamboo. It is called the ‘mighty wind.’ It enters through the crown of your head, blows through your six hollow organs, crosses the elixir field and nine openings, dissolves bone and flesh, and scatters your body. You must escape all three.”

Wukong shuddered and bowed: “Have mercy, Master, and teach me how to evade them. I will never forget your kindness.” “That is not difficult, but you are unlike other people, so I cannot teach you.” “I too have a round head beneath heaven and flat feet on the earth, nine openings, four limbs, and all five solid and six hollow organs. How am I different?” “You resemble a human being, but have no cheeks.” The monkey had a narrow face and protruding muzzle. He touched it and laughed: “You have forgotten something, Master. I may have fewer cheeks, but I have these extra jowls instead. They should make up for it.” “Very well. Which would you learn? The thirty-six transformations of the Heavenly Spirits, or the seventy-two transformations of the Earthly Fiends?” “I'd rather have more. Teach me the Earthly Fiends.” “Come here, then, and I'll give you the formula.” He whispered into Wukong's ear, imparting mysteries no one else could hear. With the Monkey King, opening one door opened a hundred. Once he knew the formula, he practiced alone until he mastered all seventy-two transformations.

One evening the Patriarch and his disciples enjoyed the scenery before the Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars. “Wukong, have you completed your work?” “Thanks to your boundless kindness, Master, I've perfected my practice. I can rise into the clouds and fly.” “Show me.” Wukong sprang up, turned a tumbling leap, rose five or six zhang, traveled on the clouds for about the time it takes to eat a meal, and returned, having covered less than three li. He saluted: “There, Master. That is flying on clouds.” The Patriarch laughed: “That's crawling on clouds, not flying. As the saying goes, ‘An immortal visits the Northern Sea in the morning and Cangwu by night.’ In half a day you haven't even covered three li; you can barely call that crawling.” “What does visiting the Northern Sea at dawn and Cangwu at dusk mean?” “A true cloud-traveler sets out from the Northern Sea at dawn, crosses the Eastern, Western, and Southern Seas, and circles back to Cangwu. Cangwu is another name for Lingling by the Northern Sea. Traveling beyond the four seas in a day is what flying on clouds means.” “That sounds difficult!” “Nothing in the world is difficult for one who sets his mind to it.” Wukong bowed. “Master, see a good deed through to the end. In your great compassion, please teach me that art too. I will never forget it.” “Most immortals rise on clouds by stamping a foot. But I saw you leap with a tumble, so I shall teach you a somersault cloud to suit your way. Make the hand sign, recite the spell, clench your fist, shake yourself and leap. A single somersault will take you 108,000 li.” The disciples laughed: “Lucky Wukong! With that trick you could work for a pawnshop, carry letters or deliver dispatches and earn a living anywhere.” At dusk, master and disciples retired to the cave.

That night Wukong cultivated his spirit and mastered the somersault cloud. Day by day he wandered at ease, free from restraint, enjoying the beauty of eternal life.

One day, as spring gave way to summer, the disciples gathered beneath the pines to talk. “Wukong, what good karma brought you here? That day the Master whispered the method of transforming to evade the three calamities into your ear. Have you learned it all?” “To tell you the truth, brothers, partly through the Master's teaching and partly through diligent practice night and day, I've mastered all those transformations.” “Then show us while we're gathered.” Wukong sprang up eagerly: “Name something for me to become.” “A pine tree.” He made the hand sign, spoke the spell, shook himself, and turned into a pine. Truly:

Dense green boughs, mist-laden through all four seasons, tower to the clouds in handsome steadfast form.Not a trace remains of the monstrous monkey: only branches that withstand frost and snow.

They clapped and laughed: “Excellent, monkey!” Their noise brought the Patriarch out with his staff. “Who is making such a commotion?” They tidied their clothes in alarm. Wukong changed back and stood among them. “Honored Master, we were only discussing our studies. No outsiders are here.” The Patriarch shouted: “All your yelling is unworthy of practitioners! Opening your mouths scatters vital spirit; wagging your tongues brings quarrels. Why are you laughing and shouting?” “Master, Sun Wukong was demonstrating his transformations. We asked for a pine and he became one. We praised him too loudly and disturbed you. Please forgive us.”

“You may go. Wukong, come here! Why were you showing off your powers by turning into a pine? Is skill like this for display? If you see someone else has it, won't you ask him for it? If others see that you have it, they will ask you. To avoid trouble, you must teach them, but if you refuse, they will harm you. Your life will be at risk.” Wukong bowed. “Forgive me, Master.” “I won't punish you, but you must leave.” Wukong wept. “Where should I go?” “Back where you came from.” Wukong understood: “I came from Water Curtain Cave on Mount Flower-Fruit in Aolai, Eastern Superior Divine Continent.” “Go back quickly if you value your life. You cannot remain here.” Wukong admitted his fault: “I left home twenty years ago. I long to see my old children and grandchildren, but I cannot leave before repaying your kindness.” “Forget any debt to me. Just don't bring disaster on yourself or implicate me.”

Seeing there was no alternative, Wukong bowed farewell to the Patriarch and took leave of the others. The Patriarch said: “Once you leave, you're bound to cause trouble. Whatever wrongs or violence you commit, never say you're my disciple. If you breathe a word of it, I will know; I'll flay your skin, crush your bones, and cast your soul into the nine depths of darkness, never to return through ten thousand ages!” “I will never mention you, Master. I'll say I learned it all myself.”

Wukong thanked him, stepped away, made the hand sign, and leaped onto his somersault cloud, bound straight for the east. In less than an hour Mount Flower-Fruit and Water Curtain Cave came into view. The Handsome Monkey King rejoiced and murmured to himself:

When I left, my mortal flesh and bones were heavy; with the Way attained, my body has become light.None in the world will make the effort; set your heart on mysteries, and mysteries grow clear.Once the waves made crossing the sea so hard; today the journey home is easy.My master's parting warning still rings in my ears; who thought I'd see the Eastern Sea so soon?

Wukong lowered his cloud onto Mount Flower-Fruit and followed a path. He heard cranes crying high into the sky and apes calling so mournfully that his heart ached. “Children, I'm home!” From cliffs, ledges, flowers, grasses, and trees sprang thousands upon thousands of monkeys large and small. They surrounded him and bowed. “Your Majesty, you took your time! Why were you gone so long? You left us here yearning for you like people starving and thirsty. Lately a demon has been tormenting us, trying to seize Water Curtain Cave. We've fought him at the risk of our lives. He's stolen our household goods and captured many of our young, and we've had to guard our home day and night without sleep. If you had stayed away another year, even our mountain and cave would have belonged to him!” Wukong grew furious. “What demon dares do this? Tell me everything and I'll avenge you.” “He calls himself the Demon King of Havoc and lives due north.” “How far?” “He comes in clouds and goes in fog, with wind, rain, lightning, and thunder. We don't know how far he lives.” “Don't be afraid. Play here while I go find him.”

The Monkey King sprang up and somersaulted north. There he saw a mountain of imposing, rugged heights. What a mountain:

Peaks rose like brushes, winding ravines ran deep. The brushlike peaks pierced the sky; the winding ravines reached the gates of earth. Flowers and trees competed on both cliffs, and pine and bamboo vied in green at every turn. Dragons on the left were docile; tigers on the right lay peacefully. Iron oxen were often seen plowing, and gold coins were often sown. Hidden birds sang sweetly; a red phoenix stood facing the sun. Jagged stones, clear ripples, fantastic and fierce. The world's famous mountains are countless, and flowers blossom and fall in profusion. Yet none rivals this enduring scene, unchanged through eight seasonal divisions and four seasons. This was truly Mount Source of the Water Trigram in the three realms, with Water Viscera Cave nourishing the five elements.

As the Handsome Monkey King gazed, he heard voices and descended toward them. Before a sheer cliff stood Water Viscera Cave. Several little demons danced outside its gate but fled at the sight of him. “Don't run! Carry my message. I am master of Water Curtain Cave on Mount Flower-Fruit to the south. Your wretched Demon King of Havoc has repeatedly abused my children. I've come to settle the score.”

The little demons rushed in. “Your Majesty, disaster!” “What disaster?” “A monkey outside calls himself master of Water Curtain Cave on Mount Flower-Fruit. He says you've tormented his children and he's come to fight you.” The Demon King laughed: “Those monkey spirits often mentioned a king who left to seek religious training. He must have returned. What does he wear? What weapon does he carry?” “No weapon. His head is bare, he wears a red robe, a yellow sash, and black boots. He looks neither monk nor layman, neither Daoist nor immortal. He's outside empty-handed, calling for you.” “Bring me my armor and weapons.” They fetched them at once.

The Demon King put on his armor, took his sword, and came out with his followers. “Who is the master of Water Curtain Cave?” Wukong looked up and saw:

A dark gold helmet on his head, shining in the sun; a black silk robe fluttering in the wind. Black iron armor below, tightly belted with leather; patterned boots on his feet, befitting a mighty general. Ten arm spans about the waist, three zhang tall. A sword in his hand with a brilliant blade. Called the Demon King of Havoc, formidable and fierce in form.

“You wretched demon, your eyes are so large yet you can't see me!” cried the Monkey King. The demon laughed: “You aren't even four feet tall, can't be thirty years old, and carry no weapon. How dare you challenge me?” Wukong retorted: “You blind wretch! If I want to grow, that's easy. If you think I'm unarmed, know that my two hands can reach the moon at the edge of heaven. Here, take a punch!” He leaped up and struck at the demon's face. The demon blocked him. “You're short and I'm tall. If you use fists while I use a sword, people will laugh when I kill you. I'll set my sword down and box with you.” “Spoken like a real fighter. Come on!” The demon lunged, and Wukong darted inside his reach. They traded fists and kicks, charging and colliding. Long-range blows were broad but weak; close-range blows were compact and hard. Wukong struck the demon beneath the ribs and in the groin several times. Hurt, the demon sprang back, snatched up his sword, broad as a board, and chopped at Wukong's head. Wukong ducked away. Seeing the demon's ferocity, he used the art of multiplying himself: he plucked a handful of hairs, chewed them, spat them into the air, and cried “Change!” Two or three hundred little monkeys appeared around the demon.

When a person acquires an immortal body, the spirit can change without limit. Since attaining the Way, the Monkey King had 84,000 hairs, each capable of transformation at his will. The little monkeys leaped nimbly, evading swords and spears. They rushed from every side, surrounded the Demon King, hugged and dragged him, crawled between his legs, pulled his feet, kicked him, yanked his hair, poked his eyes, pinched his nose, and lifted and jostled him, until they made one writhing heap. Wukong seized his sword, parted the little monkeys, and split him in two from the crown of his head. With his troop he stormed the cave and killed every demon, large and small. He shook his hairs and drew the transformed monkeys back into his body. Those who remained were the young monkeys the demon had captured from Water Curtain Cave. “What are you doing here?” Wukong asked. Some thirty to fifty of them answered through tears: “In the two years since you left to study immortality, this demon fought us and carried us off. See our household things here? He stole our stone basins and bowls too.” “Then take everything outside.” He set the cave on fire and burned Water Viscera Cave dry. “Follow me home,” he told them. “Your Majesty, when we came here all we heard was wind in our ears, and suddenly we arrived. We don't know the way back.” “That was a magical trick. I know such tricks now too. Close your eyes, and don't be afraid.”

The Monkey King recited a spell, raised a fierce wind, and landed them on a cloud. “Open your eyes, children.” Their feet met solid ground; recognizing their home, they rejoiced and ran toward their cave. The monkeys within welcomed them, ranked themselves by age, and paid homage to their king. They laid out wine and fruit to welcome him, celebrated his return, and asked how he had defeated the demon and rescued the children. Wukong told them everything, and they praised him without end. “Where did Your Majesty learn such powers?” Wukong answered: “After leaving you, I drifted over the Eastern Sea and reached the lands across it. In Southern Jambu Continent I learned to look like a human and wear these clothes and shoes. I wandered for eight or nine years but never found the Way. Then I crossed the western ocean into Western Cattle-Gift Continent. After a long search I fortunately met an old patriarch who taught me the true art of living as long as heaven, the great path of eternal life.” “A blessing one might not meet in ten thousand ages!” they cried. Wukong laughed: “Children, here's another joy: we all have a surname now.” “What is yours?” “My surname is Sun, and my religious name Wukong.” They clapped: “Our king is Old Sun, and we're Second Suns, Third Suns, Little Suns, Young Suns—a family of Suns, a whole country and a whole den of Suns!” They served Old Sun bowls large and small of coconut and grape wine, immortal flowers and fruits. What joy for the whole family! Ah!

One surname binds them all, and he returns to his source; only his honored entry among the immortals remains.

How did it end, and what befell them in that world? Listen to the next chapter to find out.

He Wakes Fully to the True Wondrous Truth under Bodhi; He Cuts Down a Demon, Returns to His Root, and Rejoins His Primal Spirit

The story goes that when the Handsome Monkey King had received his name, he hopped about in delight, made a bow before Bodhi, and thanked him. The Patriarch then ordered the assembled immortals to lead Sun Wukong out past the second gate and teach him the rules of sweeping and answering, of going forward and stepping back, of turning this way and that. The immortals went out and followed the order. Outside the gate Wukong bowed again to the elder brothers among them, and then made his sleeping place along the corridor. Next morning he began to learn speech and manners with the others, to hear the scriptures and discuss the Way, to practice writing and burn incense. Every day was like that. In spare hours he swept the floors and hoed the garden, tended flowers and pruned trees, gathered firewood and lit fires, carried water and poured it. Every tool his work needed was there for him. Six or seven years went by in the cave before he knew it.

One day the Patriarch mounted the platform and sat high, called the immortals together, and began to preach the great Way. Truly it was:

Flowers from heaven came tumbling down; golden lotuses sprang from the ground. He laid out the teaching of the three vehicles in all its wonder, and the subtle whole of the ten thousand laws. He waved his whisk slowly, and pearls and jade came flying; his voice rang like thunder and shook the nine heavens. Now he spoke of the Way, now he preached chan; the three teachings joined as they had always been at the root. He opened up the one word into the light and brought men home to the truth of sincerity; he pointed the way to the unborn, to the mystery of seeing one's own nature.

Sun Wukong stood beside him, listening. Joy made him scratch his ears and rub his cheeks, and his eyes shone and his brows danced; he could not help moving his hands and stamping his feet. Suddenly the Patriarch saw him and called: "Wukong, why do you leap and dance in the ranks instead of listening to my preaching?" Wukong said: "Your disciple was listening with all his heart. When he came to the wonderful sounds of the old master, joy got the better of him, and without knowing it he began to hop about. I beg you, Master, to forgive me." The Patriarch said: "So you can tell the wonderful sound. Then let me ask you: how long have you been in this cave?" Wukong said: "Your disciple was dull from the start and has lost count of the time. He only remembers that there was no fire under the stove, and he often went behind the mountain to cut firewood. There he found a slope of fine peach trees, and he ate his fill of the peaches there seven times." The Patriarch said: "That slope is called Rotten Peach Slope. If you ate there seven times, it must be seven years. What do you want to learn from me now?" Wukong said: "Whatever you, honored teacher, choose to teach. If it has anything of the Way in it, your disciple will learn it."

The Patriarch said: "The school of the character 'Way' has 360 side gates, and every side gate has its true fruit. Do you know which gate you want to study?" Wukong said: "As you, honored teacher, please. Your disciple will follow with all his heart." The Patriarch said: "Shall I teach you the way of the character 'Arts'?" Wukong asked: "What is the way of the Arts gate?" The Patriarch said: "In the Arts gate are calling the immortals, planchette writing, putting questions to the oracle, casting the yarrow stalks — arts by which a man can know what will bring luck and what will turn aside misfortune." Wukong asked: "Can such things win me long life?" The Patriarch said: "No, no." Wukong said: "Then I will not learn it. Not that."

The Patriarch said again: "Shall I teach you the way of the character 'Streams'?" Wukong asked again: "What is the teaching of the Streams gate?" The Patriarch said: "In the Streams gate are the scholars, the Buddhists, the Daoists, the masters of yin and yang, the Mohists, and the physicians — men who read scriptures, or call on the Buddha's name, or honor the true ones and summon the sages." Wukong asked: "Can such things win me long life?" The Patriarch said: "Long life by that road is like propping a pillar inside a wall." Wukong said: "Master, I am a plain-spoken man and do not know the talk of the streets. What does 'propping a pillar inside a wall' mean?" The Patriarch said: "When people build a house and want it strong, they set up a supporting column between the walls. But the day the great building begins to fall, the column too must rot." Wukong said: "By that account it does not last either. I will not learn it. Not that."

The Patriarch said: "Shall I teach you the way of the character 'Stillness'?" Wukong asked: "What true fruit does the Stillness gate bear?" The Patriarch said: "This is fasting from grain and holding to the valley spirit, quiet and without action, practicing chan and sitting in meditation, keeping silence and keeping the fast — sometimes the work of sleep, sometimes the work of standing, along with entering trance and wall-sitting retreats." Wukong asked: "Can that too win long life?" The Patriarch said: "It is like an unfired brick on the kiln top." Wukong laughed: "Master, you do keep slipping away. You said just now that I do not know the talk of the streets — so what does 'an unfired brick on the kiln top' mean?" The Patriarch said: "It is like the raw bricks and tiles shaped on the kiln top. They have taken form, but they have not yet been through the tempering of water and fire. Let one heavy rain pour down, and they must melt away." Wukong said: "That is not far-reaching either. I will not learn it. Not that."

The Patriarch said: "Shall I teach you the way of the character 'Action'?" Wukong asked: "And what is the way of the Action gate?" The Patriarch said: "This is work done with act and device: drawing yin to mend the yang, bending the bow and treading the crossbow, rubbing the navel and passing the breath, compounding drugs, burning herbs on the tripod, taking red lead, refining autumn stone, and drinking women's milk, and the like." Wukong asked: "Can such things as these also win long life?" The Patriarch said: "Long life by that road is like scooping for the moon in the water." Wukong said: "Master, there you go again. What is 'scooping for the moon in the water'?" The Patriarch said: "The moon hangs in the high sky, and its shadow lies in the water. You can see it, but there is nothing to lay your hands on. In the end it comes to nothing." Wukong said: "Then I will not learn that either. Not that."

At these words the Patriarch cried out, jumped down from the high platform, took his rule stick in his hand, pointed at Wukong, and said: "You monkey! This you will not learn, that you will not learn — what is it you want?" He stepped forward and struck Wukong three blows on the head. Then he clasped his hands behind his back and walked inside, shut the middle door, and left the assembly. The whole company of listeners was frightened out of its wits, and every one of them blamed Wukong: "You brazen ape, how shameless can you be! The master was passing his teaching on to you. Why would you not learn it, and instead talk back to him? Now that you have offended him, who knows when he will come out again!" At that point they all grumbled at him and looked on him with contempt and dislike. Wukong did not mind it at all; he only kept a smile all over his face. The truth is that the Monkey King had already solved the riddle of the tray and held it secretly in his heart, so he would not quarrel with the others but bore it all in silence. The three blows on his head meant that he should fix his mind at the third watch. The hands clasped behind his back as he walked inside, and the middle door shut, meant that he should come in by the back door, where the master would pass the teaching to him in secret.

That day Wukong was merry with the rest before the Cave of the Three Stars, watching the sky and wishing in vain for the evening to come. At dusk he lay down with the others, closed his eyes in pretense, steadied his breath, and fixed his mind. In the mountains there was no watchman beating the night watches or passing the arrow, so he did not know the hour; he simply measured it by the breath going in and out of his own nostrils. At about the hour of zi he rose softly, put on his clothes, quietly opened the front door, slipped away from the others, and went out. He raised his head and looked: it was just this:

The moon was bright, the cold dew lay chill; the eight far bounds of space were empty of all dust.In deep trees hidden birds were roosting; at the source the water slid and spread.Flying fireflies scattered their points of light; wild geese passing lined the clouds like written words.It was the very hour of the third watch, the time to go and seek the truth of the Way.

He took his old path around to the back door and found it half open, half shut. Wukong said gladly: "The old master truly means to pass the teaching to me. That is why the door stands open." He shuffled up close, turned sideways through the doorway, and walked softly to the foot of the Patriarch's bed. The Patriarch lay curled up, turned toward the wall, asleep. Wukong dared not disturb him, and knelt at the bedside. Before long the Patriarch woke, stretched out his two feet, and hummed to himself:

"Hard! Hard! Hard! The Way is darkest and deepest. Do not treat the golden elixir as an everyday thing. Unless you meet a perfected man to pass on the wondrous secret, you will talk until your mouth is dry and your tongue is worn, and all for nothing!"

Wukong answered at once: "Master, your disciple has been kneeling here waiting a long time." The Patriarch heard that the voice was Wukong's, got up at once, threw on his clothes, and sat cross-legged. "You monkey!" he called. "Why are you not asleep out front, creeping around here at my back?" Wukong said: "Yesterday, before the whole assembly, Master, you promised that at the third watch you would pass your teaching to me by the back door. So your disciple took the boldness to bow at your bedside." The Patriarch heard this and was greatly pleased, and said to himself: "This fellow truly was made by heaven and earth. If not, how could he have broken my riddle of the tray?" Wukong said: "There is not a sixth ear here; only your disciple, one alone. I beg you, Master, in your great mercy, to pass on to me the way of long life. I will never forget the kindness." The Patriarch said: "You have the fate for it today, and I am glad to speak. Since you could read the riddle of the tray, come near, listen closely, and I will pass on to you the wondrous way of long life." Wukong knocked his head in thanks, washed his ears and set his mind, and knelt below the couch. The Patriarch said:

Plain and hidden, wholly joined: the true wondrous secret; cherish and tend your nature and your life, and there is nothing else to say.All of it comes at last to essence, breath, and spirit; guard them fast, store them close, and let nothing leak away.Let nothing leak; keep them stored in your body. Take what I hand on to you, and the Way will flourish in you.Hold the spoken formula in memory; it brings great good. Put away twisted desires, and you will win coolness and light.Win coolness and light, shining clean, and from the cinnabar terrace enjoy the bright moon.The moon hides the jade rabbit, the sun hides the crow; turtle and snake will wind and knot together of themselves.Wound and knotted, your nature and life stand firm; then in the very fire you can plant a golden lotus.Gather the five forms and use them upside down; when the work is complete you are a Buddha or an immortal at will.

With the source now laid bare, Wukong's quick mind met its reward, and he fixed the spoken formula in his memory word by word. He bowed in deep thanks to the Patriarch, went out at the back door, and looked. The eastern sky was just loosening into pale white, while in the west the golden light of the stars was still bright and clear. He came back by the same path to the front door, pushed it softly open, went in, sat down in his old sleeping place, and shook the bedding on purpose, crying: "Daylight! Daylight! Up, all of you!" The others were still fast asleep and did not know that Wukong had already come into his good fortune. From that day he mingled with them as before, while in secret he kept up his work, steadying his breath before zi and after wu on his own.

Three years slipped by, and the Patriarch once more took his seat of honor and preached to the assembly, talking in comparisons and cases, discussing appearances and wrappings. Suddenly he asked: "Where is Wukong?" Wukong came near and knelt: "Here, Master." The Patriarch said: "What have you been cultivating all this time?" Wukong said: "Your disciple's grasp of the nature of things has lately grown clear, and his root is getting firm." The Patriarch said: "Since you grasp the nature of things and understand your root, the spirit-body is already written in you. What remains is to guard against the harm of the three calamities." Wukong heard this and pondered a long while: "Master, you are wrong there. I have heard that when the Way is high and virtue deep, a man lives as long as heaven; when water and fire are joined in balance, no illness comes. How can there be 'the harm of the three calamities'?" The Patriarch said: "This is no ordinary Way: it robs heaven and earth of their making, and steals the hidden springs of sun and moon. Once the elixir is complete, ghosts and spirits cannot suffer you. Your face may hold and your years may stretch, but after five hundred years heaven will send the calamity of thunder to strike you. You must see your own nature and light your own heart, and escape beforehand. Escape it, and your span equals heaven's; fail to escape it, and your life ends there. After another five hundred years heaven will send the calamity of fire to burn you. This fire is not the fire of heaven, nor common fire either; it is called the yin fire. It starts below, at the bubbling springs of your own soles, and burns straight up to the palace of the crown of the head. The five organs turn to ash, the four limbs rot away, and a thousand years of bitter practice come to nothing. After another five hundred years comes the calamity of wind to blow upon you. This wind is not the east, south, west, or north wind, not the mild wind, the scented wind, the gold wind, or the cold north gale, nor the wind through flowers and willows, pines and bamboo; it is called the bi wind. It enters at the fontanel and blows through the six organs, past the cinnabar field, through the nine openings, until bone and flesh waste thin and the body falls apart by itself. So all three must be escaped."

At this Wukong's hair stood on end and his bones went cold. He knocked his head and bowed: "I beg you, my lord, in your pity, to pass on the method of escaping the three calamities. I will never dare forget the kindness." The Patriarch said: "That is not hard in itself. But you are not like other people, and so it cannot be passed to you." Wukong said: "I too have a round head that props the sky and two feet that stand square on the ground; I have the same nine openings and four limbs, the same five organs and six bowels. How am I different from other people?" The Patriarch said: "You are shaped like a man, but you have less cheek than a man." It is true the monkey had a bony, jutting face, a hollow face and a pointed mouth. Wukong reached up and felt, then laughed: "Master, your reckoning is out. Though I have less cheek, I carry more than men do in this pouch of mine, and that makes up for it." The Patriarch said: "Very well. Which kind do you want to learn? There is one kind, the count of the heavenly gang, of 36 transformations; and one kind, the count of the earthly fiends, of 72 transformations." Wukong said: "Your disciple wants to reach for the greater number and learn the 72 transformations of the earthly fiends." The Patriarch said: "If that is so, come forward, and I will pass the formula to you." Then he whispered in his ear, and no one knows what wondrous method he told him. With this Monkey King, when one opening opened, a hundred openings opened. He learned the formula on the spot, practiced and refined it himself, and in time had the 72 transformations all mastered.

One day the Patriarch was enjoying the evening scene with his disciples before the Cave of the Three Stars. He said: "Wukong, is your work finished or not?" Wukong said: "Thanks to the ocean of your kindness, Master, your disciple's work is complete, and he can rise on the rosy clouds and fly." The Patriarch said: "Try your flying for me to see." Wukong showed his skill: he gathered himself, gave a stretched somersault and a leap, jumped five or six zhang off the ground, and rode the clouds and haze for the space of a meal; but he had come back no more than three li, and he landed in front of the master and folded his hands: "Master, that is flying and riding the clouds." The Patriarch laughed: "That is not riding the clouds; that is only crawling on them. The old saying goes: 'The immortal roams the North Sea at morning and Cangwu at evening.' For you, half a day to go less than three li — even crawling on clouds does not deserve the name." Wukong asked: "What is 'roaming the North Sea at morning and Cangwu at evening'?" The Patriarch said: "Any cloud-rider starts from the North Sea in the early morning, passes over the East Sea, the West Sea, and the South Sea, and comes back to Cangwu by evening. Cangwu, as they say by the North Sea at Lingling, is that place. To tour beyond the four seas, all of them, in a single day — only that deserves to be called riding the clouds." Wukong said: "That is hard, that is hard." The Patriarch said: "Nothing in this world is hard for the man who sets his heart on it." Wukong heard and knocked his head and bowed: "Master, if a thing is to be done, do it thoroughly. Take pity once more and pass on to me this method of riding the clouds as well. I will never dare forget the kindness." The Patriarch said: "All the immortals rise on the clouds by springing straight from their feet. That is not your way. Just now I saw you go: only with a running tumble could you jump up. So I will take that very bent of yours and pass you the somersault cloud." Wukong bowed again and begged, and the Patriarch passed him the formula: "With this cloud, pinch the sign, speak the true words, clench both fists, shake your body, and jump. One somersault covers 108,000 li." Hearing this, the whole company snickered, one to another: "What luck for Wukong! With that trick he could stand guard for a pawnshop or carry letters and dispatches, and never fail to find his rice wherever he went." When dark came, master and disciples went back to their caves.

That very night Wukong set his spirit moving and refined the method, and so came into the somersault cloud. From then on his days were bound by nothing and held by nothing, free and roaming at ease; this too is one of the sweet fruits of long life.

One day, as spring gave way to summer, the whole company had been sitting and talking a long while under the pines. They said: "Wukong, what fate did you earn in some former life? The other day the old master whispered in your ear and passed you the method of transformations that escapes the three calamities. Have you mastered them all?" Wukong laughed: "Not to hide it from you, elder brothers: partly the master taught me, and partly I worked day and night, and now I can do all those tricks." They said: "The moment is good. Show us; let us have a look." Wukong heard, braced his spirit, and showed off his art: "Elder brothers, name the task. What shall I change into?" They said: "Change into a pine tree." Wukong pinched the sign, spoke the charm, shook himself once, and turned into a pine tree. Truly:

Deep, deep green, wrapped in mist, it ran through all four seasons; up past the clouds it rose, its true shape fine and strong.Not one trace of a demon monkey showed in it; nothing but branches that had borne the frost and stood beneath the snow.

The company clapped and laughed out loud, crying: "Fine monkey! Fine monkey!" Their shouting rose without their noticing, and the noise reached the Patriarch. He hurried out the door leaning on his staff and asked: "Who is making this racket here?" At his call the company straightened up in a hurry, put their clothes in order, and came forward. Wukong too showed his true shape and slipped into the crowd: "Honored master, we were sitting here in talk; no outsider was making noise." The Patriarch shouted in anger: "Shouting and hollering — nothing about you looks like men in training! When a man cultivates himself, the moment his mouth opens his spirit scatters, and the moment his tongue moves, quarrels are born. How could you laugh and carry on here?" The company said: "We dare not hide it, Master. Just now Sun Wukong was showing us his transformations for fun. We told him to change into a pine tree, and a pine tree it truly was. We were all praising him and cheering, and our loud voices disturbed you. We beg your forgiveness."

The Patriarch said: "Stand aside, all of you." Then he called: "Wukong, come here! What do you mean by showing off your tricks and changing into a pine tree? Is such a skill to be flaunted in front of others? Suppose you see that someone else has a skill — will you not beg him for it? And when others see that you have one, they are sure to beg you. If you fear trouble, you will have to pass it on; if you do not pass it on, they will surely do you harm — and then your own life will not be safe." Wukong knocked his head: "I only beg you, Master, to forgive me." The Patriarch said: "I do not hold it against you. Only — go now. You must leave." At these words Wukong's eyes filled with tears: "Master, where am I to go?" The Patriarch said: "Where you came from, there you return." Wukong woke all at once: "I came from Water Curtain Cave on Mount Flower-Fruit, in the country of Aolai, in the East Victory Divine Continent." The Patriarch said: "Then hurry back, and save your life. Here you must not stay another day." Wukong took the sentence upon himself and said: "Honored master, I have been away from home twenty years. It is not that I do not long to see my old children and grandchildren again, but your great kindness is still unpaid, and I dare not go." The Patriarch said: "There is no debt of kindness between us. Only make trouble of your own and do not drag my name into it, and that is enough."

Seeing there was no help for it, Wukong could only bow, take his leave, and part from the company. The Patriarch said: "Once you go, there is no doubt you will come to no good. Whatever trouble you stir, whatever wrong you do, you are not to say you are my disciple. Speak half a word of it, and I shall know it. I will skin this monkey of yours and break him bone from bone, banish his soul to the nine dark places, and let him not turn over again for ten thousand ages!" Wukong said: "I will never dare speak one word of you, Master. I will say only that I learned it all by myself."

Wukong thanked him, drew himself away, pinched the sign, threw a running tumble, rose on the somersault cloud, and headed straight back for the East Victory Continent. It did not take a full watch; he already saw Mount Flower-Fruit and Water Curtain Cave. The Handsome Monkey King knew his own happiness, and said to himself:

When he went, he bore the heavy shell and womb of a mortal; having gained the Way, his body is light and his limbs are light.In all the world no one will set his will; but set your will on the dark mystery, and the mystery shines of itself.Then, crossing the sea, the waves were hard to breast; today, coming home, the road is easy under him.The parting words, charged and earnest, are still in his ears; who thought that in one blink he would see the eastern deep again?

Wukong lowered his cloud and came down to Mount Flower-Fruit, walking and looking for the path. Suddenly he heard the cry of cranes and the wailing of gibbons: the cranes' cry shot past the high heavens, and the gibbons' wail was bitter and cut him to the heart. He called out at once: "Children, I have come home!" From the cliff base and the stone hollows, from the flowers and grasses, from the trees, monkeys big and small leaped out by the thousands upon thousands and hemmed the Handsome Monkey King in the middle, knocking their heads and crying: "Great King, how light your heart has been! Why were you gone so long? You left us all stranded here, longing for you like the hungry for food and the thirsty for drink. Lately a demon has been bullying us here, trying by force to take our Water Curtain Cave from us. We fought him, ready to die and forgetful of our lives. All this time that fellow has been robbing our household goods and carrying off many of our children and nephews, and we must keep watch over our home day and night with no sleep. Happily the Great King has come. If you had stayed away another year, the whole mountain and cave would have belonged to someone else." Wukong heard and burned with anger: "What demon dares be so outrageous? Tell me all about it, and I will go and pay him back." The monkeys knocked their heads: "We report to the Great King: that fellow calls himself the World-Troubling Demon King, and he lives away to the due north." Wukong said: "How far is it from here to him?" The monkeys said: "When he comes, it is cloud; when he goes, it is mist; sometimes wind, sometimes rain, sometimes lightning, sometimes thunder. We do not know how far." Wukong said: "Then do not be afraid. Go on with your play, and wait while I go and find him."

Brave Monkey King: with one spring of his body he leaped up and somersaulted away, straight north, and there below him lay a high mountain, fearsome and steep. A fine mountain:

Peaks stood up like brushes, and the winding ravine ran deep. The brush-like peaks rose clean through the empty sky; the deep-winding ravine reached to the doors of the earth. On the two cliffs flowers and trees vied in strangeness; in several places pines and bamboo strove in green. On the left a dragon, tame and gentle; on the right a tiger, quiet and crouched. Often an iron ox is seen plowing there, and golden coins are always being sown. Hidden birds make their sweet notes; a vermilion phoenix stands facing the morning sun. The stones glint flint on flint; the waves are clean and still; strange and uncanny, truly grim and fierce. The world holds famous mountains past counting, their flowers opening and falling, thick and many; but none of them keeps its scene forever like this, unmoved through the eight seasons and the four times of the year. Truly it is the Kan-Source Mountain of the three realms, home of the Water-Organ Cave that feeds the five forms.

The Handsome Monkey King stood looking quietly over the scene when he heard voices. He went straight down the mountain to search, and there before a steep cliff was the Water-Organ Cave. Outside the cave door a few small demons were dancing, and when they saw Wukong they ran. Wukong called: "Stop! Lend me the words in your mouths to carry the business in my heart. I am the master of Water Curtain Cave on Mount Flower-Fruit, away to the due south. What is this bird-demon of yours, this World-Troubler, who has bullied my children again and again? I have come to find him and settle with him once for all."

The small demons ran helter-skelter into the cave to report: "Great King, disaster!" The Demon King said: "What disaster?" The small demons said: "Outside the cave is a monkey fellow who calls himself master of Water Curtain Cave on Mount Flower-Fruit. He says you have bullied his children again and again, and he has come to find you and settle it once for all." The Demon King laughed: "I have often heard those monkey spirits say their king had gone off to cultivate as a religious. I suppose this is him. How was he dressed? What weapons did he carry?" The small demons said: "He had no weapon at all. His head is bare; he wears one red gown, with a yellow sash at the waist and a pair of black boots on his feet. He is neither monk nor layman, not like a Daoist or an immortal. Bare-handed, empty fists, he is shouting outside the gate." The Demon King said: "Bring my armor and my weapon." The small demons brought them at once.

The Demon King buckled on his armor, took up his knife, and came out the door with all his demons, calling in a loud voice: "Which of you is the master of Water Curtain Cave?" Wukong opened his eyes wide and looked: there stood the Demon King:

On his head a black-gold helmet, flashing back the sunlight; on his body a black silk robe, streaming on the wind. Below, black iron armor cinched tight with leather straps; on his feet flowered riding boots — fierce as a top commander. Ten spans around the waist, three zhang from head to foot, a single knife in his fist with a bright, gleaming edge. They call him the World-Troubling Demon King: a big, open-faced, murderous figure.

The Monkey King shouted: "This brazen demon has eyes big enough and cannot see Old Sun!" The Demon King looked at him and laughed: "You are less than four chi tall and not thirty years old, and you carry no weapon. How do you dare be so wild, and come looking for a settlement with me?" Wukong cursed: "You brazen demon, you have no eyes at all. You judge me small, but to grow big is not hard; you judge me unarmed, but with these two hands I could hook down the moon at the sky's rim. Do not be afraid — only take one punch from Old Sun." With a spring he leaped up and struck straight at his face. The Demon King put out a hand and blocked it: "You are squat and short, and I am tall and long. You want to use fists, and I want to use a knife. If I killed you with the knife, people would laugh at me. Let me put down my knife and box a few rounds with you." Wukong said: "Well said. Come on, then, brave fellow." The Demon King set his stance and struck; this Wukong slipped inside, meeting and answering. The two of them traded punches and kicks, rushing and ramming. Now, the long fist is open and empty, and the short and close is solid. The Demon King took Wukong's blows to his short ribs and a ram in the groin, and a few turns of joint-work knocked him hard. He slipped aside, snatched up his plank-wide steel knife, and chopped straight down at Wukong's head. Wukong whipped his body away, and the knife cut air. Seeing how fierce he was, Wukong used the art of the body outside the body: he plucked a handful of his hairs, threw them in his mouth, chewed them fine, sprayed them into the air, and cried "Change!" They became two or three hundred little monkeys, crowding all around.

Now, when a man wins an immortal's body, his spirit goes out and changes without limit. And who knows — after this Monkey King found the Way, the 84,000 hairs on his body could every one be changed, answering things as his heart wished. Those little monkeys were sharp-eyed and quick to jump; the knife came down and could not cut them, the spear went out and could not hurt them. Watch them leap in front and spring behind, boring in and hemming the Demon King around: some hugging, some tugging, some diving between his legs, some gripping his feet, kicking and striking, plucking his hair, gouging his eyes, pinching his nose, hoisting and hauling, until they rolled him up into one bundled ball. Wukong then snatched his knife from him, pushed the little monkeys aside, and brought the blade down on the crown of his head, cutting him in two. Leading the troop, he charged in and slaughtered the cave clean, big demons and small, every one. Then he shook his hairs and gathered them back onto his body — except those that could not return: the little monkeys the Demon King had carried off from Water Curtain Cave. Wukong said: "How did you come to be here?" There were thirty or fifty of them, and all with tears they said: "After you went off to cultivate as an immortal, Great King, he kept up his attacks these two years and swept us all here. Those are not our household goods from the cave? Stone basins, stone bowls — this fellow took them too." Wukong said: "If they are our goods, carry them all outside." Then he set a fire in the cave and burned the Water-Organ Cave dry, so that all became one again. He said to them: "Follow me home." The monkeys said: "Great King, when they brought us, we only heard the wind at our ears and came floating and light to this place; we do not know the road. How are we to get home now?" Wukong said: "That was just his little trick of magic. What is hard about it? Now that one opening of mine is open, a hundred are open, and I can do the trick too. All of you shut your eyes, and do not be afraid."

Brave Monkey King: he spoke a charm, rode up on a roaring gale, and came down from the clouds. He called: "Children, open your eyes." The monkeys set their feet on solid ground, knew their home country, and every one was glad, all hurrying to the old path to the cave door. The monkeys inside came crowding out and in together with them, lined up by age, and bowed to the Monkey King. Wine and fruit were laid on to welcome him and wish him joy, and they asked him all about the taming of the demon and the rescue of their children. Wukong told it from beginning to end, and the monkeys praised him without end: "Who would have thought that when the Great King went off, he would come back with skill like this!" Wukong went on: "When I left you, I drifted with the waves over the great Eastern Ocean to the West Ox-Gift Continent, and then crossed to the South Jambu Continent. There I learned to look like a man, put on these clothes and these boots, and swayed through the world for eight or nine years — but I never found the Way. Then I crossed the Western Ocean to the West Ox-Gift Continent and asked for a long time, until by good luck I met an old patriarch, who passed on to me the true work whose span equals heaven's, the great gate of long life without dying." The monkeys cheered and cried: "Not once in ten thousand ages could such a thing be met!" Wukong laughed again: "Little ones, there is more good news: all our line now has a surname." The monkeys asked: "What is the Great King's surname?" Wukong said: "I am now surnamed Sun; my religious name is Wukong." The monkeys heard, clapped their hands, and cried out in delight: "The Great King is Old Sun, and we are all Second Sun, Third Sun, Thin Sun, Little Sun… one household of Suns, one country of Suns, one nest of Suns!" They all came flocking around Old Sun with big basins and little bowls of coconut wine and grape wine, immortal flowers and immortal fruit. Truly the whole house was happy. Ah!

One surname runs through him, and his body has come home to its root; he only waits for his name to be moved up in glory on the roll of the immortals.

How would it all turn out, and how would his days in this land run their course? Listen to the next chapter to find out.