Now, having gained a name and surname, the Handsome Monkey King leaped for joy and bowed before Subhuti to give his thanks. The Patriarch at once told the others to take Sun Wukong outside the second gate and teach him how to sprinkle and sweep, answer when addressed, come and go, and conduct himself properly. The immortals obeyed and led him out. Once outside, Wukong bowed again to his fellow disciples, his elder brothers, and a sleeping place was arranged for him in the covered walkway. Next morning he joined his elder brothers in learning speech and manners, discussing scriptures and the Way, practising writing and burning incense. Every day was the same. In his spare time he swept the ground and hoed the garden, tended flowers and trimmed trees, gathered firewood and lit fires, carried water and fetched drinks. Whatever was needed, he supplied it all. Before he knew it, six or seven years had slipped by in the cave.

Sun Wukong listened from his place, so delighted that he scratched his ears and cheeks, beamed from brow to eye, and could not keep his hands and feet from dancing. Suddenly the Patriarch noticed him. “Sun Wukong!” he called. “Why are you leaping and dancing like a mad thing among the ranks instead of listening to my teaching?” Wukong said, “Your disciple is listening with all his heart. When your wonderful words reach their finest point, venerable Master, I’m so happy I can’t help myself. That is why I began to leap without knowing it. I beg my Master’s forgiveness.” The Patriarch said, “Since you can appreciate those words, let me ask you: how long have you been in the cave?” Wukong said, “Your disciple has always been muddleheaded and doesn’t know how many seasons have passed. All I remember is that whenever there was no fire beneath the stove, I went behind the mountain for wood. There I found a whole hillside of fine peach trees, and I’ve eaten my fill of peaches there seven times.” “That mountain is called Rotten Peach Mountain,” said the Patriarch. “If you’ve eaten your fill seven times, it must have been seven years. Now, what part of the Way do you want to learn from me?” Wukong said, “Whatever my honoured Master chooses to teach. If it has so much as a breath of the Way in it, your disciple will learn.”

The Patriarch said, “Within the gate called ‘the Way’ there are three hundred and sixty side paths, and every side path can bring a true result. Which one do you want to learn?” Wukong said, “Whatever my honoured Master wishes. Your disciple will obey with all his heart.” The Patriarch said, “How would you like me to teach you the Way of the gate called ‘Arts’?” “What does the Way of Arts mean?” asked Wukong. The Patriarch said, “Within the gate of Arts are such things as summoning immortals, spirit writing3, consulting oracles and divining with yarrow stalks. Through these you can learn how to seek good fortune and avoid ill.” Wukong said, “Can I gain everlasting life that way?” “No, no,” said the Patriarch. “Then I won’t learn it, won’t learn it,” said Wukong.

The Patriarch went on, “How about the Way of the gate called ‘Schools’?” Wukong asked, “What principles are taught within the gate of Schools?” The Patriarch said, “There are the Confucians, Buddhists, Daoists, the yin-yang school, the Mohists4 and the school of medicine. Some read scriptures, some recite the Buddha’s name; there are also such practices as paying homage to perfected beings and calling down holy ones.” Wukong said, “Can I gain everlasting life that way?” The Patriarch said, “Seeking everlasting life that way is like putting a pillar inside a wall.” Wukong said, “Master, I’m a simple fellow. I don’t understand these riddles. What do you mean by ‘putting a pillar inside a wall’?” The Patriarch said, “When people build a house and want it to be strong, they set a supporting pillar within the wall. But one day, when the great house is about to fall, that pillar will have rotted too.” Wukong said, “Then by your account it won’t last either. I won’t learn it, won’t learn it.”

The Patriarch said, “How about the Way of the gate called ‘Stillness’?” Wukong said, “What true result comes from the gate of Stillness?” The Patriarch said, “This means going without grain and keeping the fast, remaining pure and still without action, practising Chan and sitting in meditation, keeping silence and observing a vegetarian diet. There are exercises done asleep or standing, as well as entering meditative absorption and sitting in seclusion.” Wukong said, “Can these give everlasting life too?” The Patriarch said, “They are like an unfired clay brick at the kiln.” Wukong laughed. “Master, you really are slippery! I keep telling you I don’t understand riddles. What do you mean by ‘an unfired clay brick at the kiln’?” The Patriarch said, “It is like the clay moulded into bricks and tiles at a kiln. Though it has taken shape, it has not yet been tempered by water and fire. One day a heavy rain comes, and it must dissolve.” Wukong said, “That won’t last either. I won’t learn it, won’t learn it.”

The Patriarch said, “How about the Way of the gate called ‘Activity’?” Wukong said, “And what is the Way of Activity?” The Patriarch said, “This involves deliberate work and action: gathering yin to replenish yang5, drawing the bow and treading the crossbow, rubbing the navel and circulating the breath, preparing remedies from prescriptions, burning herbs and working the cauldron, taking red lead6, refining autumn stone and drinking women’s milk, among other things.” Wukong said, “Can I gain everlasting life through these?” The Patriarch said, “Seeking everlasting life this way is like fishing the moon out of water.” Wukong said, “There you go again, Master. What do you mean by ‘fishing the moon out of water’?” The Patriarch said, “The moon is high in the sky, and its reflection lies in the water. Though you can see it, there is nowhere to scoop it up or grasp it. In the end you have nothing.” Wukong said, “I won’t learn that either, won’t learn it.”

At these words the Patriarch gave a sharp shout and sprang down from the high platform. Pointing his disciplinary ruler at Wukong, he said, “You monkey! You won’t learn this, you won’t learn that — what do you expect?” He went up to him and struck him on the head three times. Then, with his hands behind his back, he went inside, closed the middle gate and left them all. Everyone listening was badly frightened, and they all blamed Wukong. “You wretched monkey, you have no manners at all! Master offers to teach you the arts of the Way, and instead of learning you talk back! Now you’ve offended him, who knows when he’ll come out again?” They complained bitterly, despising and resenting him. Wukong was not the least upset; he only smiled to please them. The Monkey King had already solved the riddle set before him and kept the answer secretly in his heart. That was why he did not argue, but bore it all without a word. The Patriarch’s three blows meant that he should be ready at the third watch. Going inside with his hands behind his back and shutting the middle gate meant that Wukong was to enter by the back door, where he would be taught the Way in secret.

Now the source had been laid open, and Wukong’s mind was blessed with sudden understanding. He committed the spoken secrets firmly to memory, bowed to the Patriarch in thanks for his great kindness and went out through the back door to look about. In the east the sky was just beginning to pale; along the western path a golden light shone clearly. He followed the old route round to the front gate, pushed it open softly and went in. Sitting in his usual sleeping place, he deliberately rattled his bedding and cried, “Daylight! Daylight! Get up!” The others were still fast asleep and knew nothing of the good thing Wukong had gained. Once they were up he spent the day mingling idly with them, while secretly keeping up his practice, regulating his breath before midnight and after noon.

Three years soon passed. The Patriarch again took his precious seat and taught them all, discussing illustrative cases and comparisons, speaking of outward appearances and surface coverings. Suddenly he asked, “Where is Wukong?” Wukong came forward and knelt. “Your disciple is here.” The Patriarch said, “What part of the Way have you been cultivating all this time?” Wukong said, “Of late your disciple has gained a fair understanding of the nature of the Law, and the source is gradually growing firm.” The Patriarch said, “Since you understand the nature of the Law and have grasped the source, you have attained a divine body. But you must take care against the dangers of the three calamities.” Wukong pondered this for a long time, then said, “Master’s words must be mistaken. I’ve always heard that those whose Way is lofty and whose virtue is great live as long as heaven; once water and fire are in harmony, no illness can arise. Why should there be these ‘dangers of the three calamities’?” The Patriarch said, “This is no ordinary Way. It seizes the creative powers of heaven and earth and invades the hidden workings of sun and moon. Once the elixir is formed, spirits and gods will not tolerate it. Though you keep your youthful looks and lengthen your life, after five hundred years Heaven will send a thunder calamity to strike you. You must understand your nature and illuminate your mind, and evade it in advance. If you escape, you will live as long as heaven; if not, your life ends there. After another five hundred years Heaven will send a fire calamity to burn you. This is neither heavenly fire nor ordinary fire, but what is called ‘yin fire’. It burns upward from beneath the Bubbling Spring point10 in your own body, right through to the Muddy Pellet Palace. Your five organs turn to ash, your four limbs decay, and a thousand years of hard practice become an empty dream. Another five hundred years later comes a wind calamity to blow upon you. This is not a wind from east, south, west or north, not a gentle warm wind or a sharp cold wind, nor a wind among flowers, willows, pines or bamboo. It is called ‘bi wind’. It blows in through the crown of your head into the six inner organs, passes through the cinnabar field and penetrates the nine openings. Flesh and bone waste away, and the body comes apart of itself. That is why you must escape them all.”

Wukong’s hair stood on end. He knocked his head on the ground and pleaded, “I beg my honoured Master to take pity on me and teach me how to escape the three calamities. I will never forget your kindness.” The Patriarch said, “That is not difficult either. But you are different from other people, so I cannot teach you.” Wukong said, “My head is round and reaches toward heaven, my feet are square and tread the earth. I have the same nine openings and four limbs, five organs and six inner organs. How am I different from a human?” The Patriarch said, “Though you look like a human, you have less cheek.” A monkey’s face, you see, has jutting bones, hollow cheeks and a pointed muzzle. Wukong felt his face and laughed. “Master hasn’t reckoned it properly. I may have less cheek, but I have this extra food pouch. Surely that makes up the difference.” The Patriarch said, “Very well. Which kind do you want to learn? One follows the number of the Heavenly Stars11, with thirty-six transformations; another follows the number of the Earthly Fiends, with seventy-two transformations.” Wukong said, “Your disciple would like to get as many as he can. Let me learn the transformations of the Earthly Fiends.” The Patriarch said, “Then come forward, and I’ll give you the spoken secret.” He whispered into Wukong’s ear; no one knows what wondrous method he taught. Once this Monkey King understood one thing, he understood a hundred. Having learned the spoken secret, he practised and trained on his own until he mastered all the seventy-two transformations.

One day the Patriarch and his disciples were enjoying the evening scene before the Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars. The Patriarch said, “Wukong, have you finished the work?” Wukong said, “Thanks to my Master’s kindness, vast as the sea, your disciple’s attainment is complete. I can now rise through the mists and fly.” “Let me see you fly,” said the Patriarch. Wukong showed his skill: he heaved himself up, turned a tumbling somersault and leaped fifty or sixty Chinese feet off the ground. He travelled on the clouds for about the time it takes to eat a meal, went less than three li in all, then landed before the Patriarch and clasped his hands. “Master, that is flying and riding the clouds.” The Patriarch laughed. “That doesn’t count as riding clouds, only crawling on them. As the old saying goes, ‘An immortal roams the North Sea at dawn and is in Cangwu by dusk.’ You’ve spent half a day going less than three li. That hardly even counts as crawling on clouds!” Wukong said, “What does ‘roams the North Sea at dawn and is in Cangwu by dusk’ mean?” The Patriarch said, “Those who ride clouds set out from the North Sea early in the morning, travel over the East Sea, West Sea and South Sea, and turn back to Cangwu. Cangwu is a way of speaking of Lingling in the North Sea. Only when you can travel round everything beyond the Four Seas in a single day does it count as riding clouds.” Wukong said, “That sounds hard, very hard.” The Patriarch said, “Nothing in the world is hard for someone who sets his heart on it.” At these words Wukong knocked his head on the ground and pleaded, “Master, if you help someone, help him all the way. Please show your great compassion and teach me this method of riding clouds as well. I will never forget your kindness.” The Patriarch said, “All other immortals rise onto clouds with a stamp of the foot, but you don’t do it that way. Just now I saw you turn a somersault before you leaped up. I shall work with that movement of yours and teach you a somersault cloud.” Wukong bowed again and begged him. The Patriarch gave him another spoken secret. “For this cloud, make the hand sign, recite the true words, clench your fists, shake yourself and leap. One somersault will carry you 108,000 li12.” At this the others all chuckled. “What luck for Wukong! If he learns that, he can work as a courier, carry documents or deliver notices for people. Wherever he goes, he’ll find a living.” At nightfall the Master and his disciples all returned to their cave dwelling.

That very night Wukong brought his spirit to bear on the method and mastered the somersault cloud. Day after day he lived free of restraint, roaming at ease as he pleased. This, too, was one of the joys of everlasting life.

They all clapped and roared with laughter. “Fine monkey! Fine monkey!” Their unwitting uproar disturbed the Patriarch. He hurried out with his staff and asked, “Who is making such a noise here?” At his call they hastily composed themselves, straightened their clothes and came forward. Wukong changed back to his own form and mingled with them. “Honoured Master, we were discussing the teachings here. No outsider is making a disturbance.” The Patriarch shouted angrily, “All this yelling and shouting! You have none of the bearing of people who practise the Way. Open your mouth, and your spirit and vital breath scatter; move your tongue, and quarrels arise. Why are you laughing and shouting here?” The others said, “We dare not hide it from Master. Just now Sun Wukong was playing at transformations. We told him to turn into a pine tree, and a pine tree he really became. Your disciples all praised and applauded him; that is why our loud voices disturbed our honoured Master. We beg your forgiveness.”

The Patriarch said, “Get up and go, all of you.” Then he called, “Wukong, come here! What were you playing at, turning into a pine tree? Is this skill something to show off before other people? Suppose you saw someone else with it — wouldn’t you ask him to teach you? When others see that you have it, they are certain to ask you. If you fear trouble, you will have to teach them; if you refuse, they will surely harm you. Then your life will no longer be safe.” Wukong knocked his head on the ground. “I ask only that Master forgive me.” The Patriarch said, “I won’t punish you. But you must leave.” At this Wukong’s eyes filled with tears. “Master, where am I to go?” “Go back where you came from,” said the Patriarch. Wukong understood at once. “I came from the Water-Curtain Cave on Flower-Fruit Mountain, in the kingdom of Aolai, in the Eastern Continent of Purvavideha.” The Patriarch said, “Go back at once and preserve your life. You certainly cannot stay here.” Wukong accepted his fault and pleaded with his honoured Master. “I have been away from home for twenty years. Though I long to see my children and grandchildren again, I think of my Master’s great kindness, still unrepaid, and dare not leave.” The Patriarch said, “What kindness? All I ask is that you keep out of trouble and don’t drag me into it.”

Seeing there was nothing to be done, Wukong bowed farewell and took leave of the others. The Patriarch said, “Once you leave, you are certain to do wrong. Whatever trouble you cause, whatever violence you commit, you must never say you are my disciple. If you breathe so much as half a word of it, I shall know. I’ll skin you, you monkey, file your bones to pieces and cast your soul into the Nine Depths, so that for ten thousand cosmic ages you will never rise again!” Wukong said, “I will never dare mention a single word about my Master. I’ll only say I learned it all myself.”

Wukong lowered his cloud onto Flower-Fruit Mountain, found a path and walked along it. Suddenly he heard cranes crying and apes calling: the cranes’ cries pierced beyond the heavens, the apes’ calls were so mournful they broke the heart. He called out, “Little ones, I’m back!” From beneath the cliffs and beside the rocky ledges, out of flowers and grass and trees, monkeys great and small leaped out in their thousands upon thousands. They crowded round the Handsome Monkey King, knocked their heads on the ground and cried, “Great King, you took it easy enough! Why were you gone so long? You left us all stranded here. We’ve thirsted and hungered for your return. Lately a demon has been tormenting us, determined to take our Water-Curtain Cave by force. We’ve fought him without a thought for our lives. These days that brute has been stealing our household things and carrying off many of our children and nephews, so we’ve had no sleep by day or night, guarding our home. Thank goodness our Great King is back! If you’d stayed away another year or so, we and our mountain cave would all have belonged to someone else.” Wukong was furious. “What demon dares behave like this? Tell me everything, and I’ll find him and take revenge.” The monkeys bowed low. “Great King, that fellow calls himself the Demon King of Chaos (Hunshi Mowang). He lives due north.” “How far is it from here to his place?” asked Wukong. The monkeys said, “He comes on clouds and goes in mist, or wind or rain, or lightning or thunder. We don’t know how far it is.” Wukong said, “Then don’t be afraid. Go and play. I’ll find him and come back.”

While the Handsome Monkey King was silently taking in the scene, he heard voices and went straight down the mountain to find them. There before the steep cliff was the Water-Viscera Cave. A few little demons were dancing outside its entrance; at the sight of Wukong they ran. “Don’t run!” Wukong called. “Lend me your tongues to carry what is in my heart. I am the lord of the Water-Curtain Cave on Flower-Fruit Mountain, due south of here. That damned chaos demon of yours has been bullying my children and grandchildren again and again. I’ve come specially to find him and see which of us is the better man.”

At this the little demons rushed into the cave and reported, “Great King, disaster!” “What disaster?” asked the demon king. The little demons said, “There’s a monkey outside calling himself the lord of the Water-Curtain Cave on Flower-Fruit Mountain. He says you’ve been bullying his children and grandchildren, and he’s come specially to find you and see which of you is the better man.” The demon king laughed. “I’ve often heard those monkey spirits say they have a king who left home to practise the Way. I suppose he’s come back this time. How is he dressed? What weapons has he got?” The little demons said, “He hasn’t any weapons. His head is bare, he wears a red robe with a yellow sash and a pair of black boots. He’s neither monk nor layman, and he doesn’t look like a Daoist or an immortal either. He’s shouting outside with nothing but his bare fists.” On hearing this, the demon king said, “Bring my armour and weapons.” The little demons fetched them at once.

The Monkey King shouted, “You foul demon! Eyes that big, and you can’t see Old Sun?” The demon king saw him and laughed. “You’re not four Chinese feet tall, not thirty years old, and haven’t a weapon in your hands. How dare you act so wildly and come looking for a contest with me?” Wukong cursed him. “You foul demon, you really are blind! You think I’m small? It’s no trouble for me to grow big. You think I have no weapons? These two hands of mine can hook the moon at the edge of the sky. Don’t be afraid — just take one punch from Old Sun!” He sprang up, leaped at him and struck straight at his face. The demon king raised a hand to block him. “You’re so short and stunted, and I’m so tall. You want to use your fists, while I want to use my blade. If I killed you with a blade, people would laugh at me. Let me put it down and try a round of fists with you.” Wukong said, “Fair enough. Brave fellow, come on!” The demon king spread his stance and struck; Wukong darted in to meet him at close quarters. The two punched and kicked, lunged and collided. Those long punches were all empty reach; the short, close blows were solid. Wukong dug into the demon king’s ribs and rammed his groin; a few hard blows left him badly battered. The demon king dodged aside, picked up his plank-wide steel blade and slashed down at Wukong’s head. Wukong sprang back, and the blow cut empty air. Seeing how fierce his opponent was, Wukong used the art of bodies outside the body. He plucked a handful of hairs, chewed them to pieces, spat them into the air and cried, “Change!” At once they became two or three hundred little monkeys, crowding round on every side.

Once someone gains an immortal body, you see, his spirit can leave it and transform without limit. Ever since this Monkey King had attained the Way, every one of the eighty-four thousand15 hairs on his body could change into whatever he wished, responding to things at his will. Those little monkeys were sharp-eyed and nimble: blades could not cut them, spears could not hurt them. Look at them springing forward and leaping back, darting up and surrounding the demon king! Some clung, some tugged, some crawled between his legs, some pulled at his feet. They kicked and punched, yanked his hair, gouged his eyes, pinched his nose, hoisted him and tossed him about, until they were one tight jumble. Only then did Wukong snatch away his blade, part the little monkeys and bring it down on the crown of his head, splitting him in two. Leading the others, he charged into the cave and slaughtered every demon, great and small. Then he shook his hairs and drew them back onto his body. Yet some would not return: these were the little monkeys the demon king had captured from the Water-Curtain Cave. “How did you come to be here?” Wukong asked. Some thirty or fifty of them answered through their tears, “After our Great King went away to become an immortal, this fellow has been fighting with us for the last two years and carrying us all off by magic. Aren’t those our household things over there? That brute brought our stone basins and bowls here too.” Wukong said, “If they’re our things, carry them all outside.” Then he set fire inside the cave, burning the Water-Viscera Cave dry and reducing everything to a single ruin. “Follow me home,” he told them. The monkeys said, “Great King, when we came here, all we heard was wind whistling in our ears, and we floated here without any weight. We don’t know the way at all. How can we get home now?” Wukong said, “That was only a little magic trick of his. What’s hard about it? Now that I understand one thing, I understand a hundred; I can do it too. Close your eyes, all of you, and don’t be afraid.”

How it all turned out, and what became of him during his stay in this realm, remains to be seen. To learn what happened next, read the next chapter.