Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The poem reads:

Before the chaos was divided and the world in turmoil,

Vast and boundless, no one had seen it.

Since Pangu smashed the primordial haze,

The clear and the murky were distinguished from that time forth.

All living beings revere the supreme benevolence,

All things were created and perfected in goodness.

If you would know the merit of Creation through cycles of the kalpa,

You must read *The Record of Deliverance from Tribulation on a Journey to the West*.

It is heard that the measure of heaven and earth sets twelve thousand nine hundred and sixty years as one *yuan* (cycle). This one *yuan* is divided into twelve *hui* (assemblies), namely the twelve earthly branches: *zi, chou, yin, mao, chen, si, wu, wei, shen, you, xu, and hai*. Each *hui* comprises one thousand and eighty years. Consider it in terms of a single day: at *zi* the yang energy arises, and at *chou* the rooster crows; at *yin* there is still no light, and at *mao* the sun rises; at *chen* the meal is taken, and at *si* the hours proceed; at *wu* the sun is at the zenith, and at *wei* it begins to slant westward; at *shen* comes the late afternoon meal, and at *you* the sun sets; at *xu* it is dusk, and at *hai* people settle for the night. By analogy with the great measure, if one reaches the end of the *xu hui*, then heaven and earth are dark and obscured and all things are blocked. Another five thousand and four hundred years pass, and at the beginning of the *hai hui*, all is in darkness, and the beings of both realms are utterly absent—this is called Chaos. Another five thousand and four hundred years pass, and as the *hai hui* draws to its end, purity gives rise to a new beginning, approaching the *zi hui*, and gradually there is light once more. Shao Kangjie said: "At the midpoint of the winter solstice in *zi*, the mind of Heaven shifts not at all. Where the first yang stirs, the ten thousand things have not yet been born." At this point, Heaven begins to have its root. Another five thousand and four hundred years pass, and it is the height of the *zi hui*: the light and pure rises upward, and there is the sun, the moon, the stars, and the celestial bodies. The sun, moon, stars, and celestial bodies are called the Four Images. Thus it is said: Heaven opened at *zi*. Another five thousand and four hundred years pass, and as the *zi hui* draws to its end, approaching the *chou hui*, things gradually become solid and firm. The *Book of Changes* says: "Great indeed is the primal origin of Qian! Supreme indeed is the primal origin of Kun! All things owe their birth to it, and it receives the mandate of Heaven." At this point, Earth begins to congeal. Another five thousand and four hundred years pass, and it is the height of the *chou hui*: the heavy and turbid sinks downward, and there is water, fire, rock, stone, and earth. Water, fire, rock, stone, and earth are called the Five Forms. Thus it is said: Earth was carved out at *chou*. Another five thousand and four hundred years pass, and as the *chou hui* ends and the *yin hui* begins, all things come into being. The almanac says: "The qi of heaven descends; the qi of earth ascends; heaven and earth join, and all things are born." At this point, heaven is clear and earth is bright, and yin and yang unite. Another five thousand and four hundred years pass, and it is the height of the *yin hui*: humans are born, beasts are born, birds are born—this is called Heaven, Earth, and Humanity, the Three Powers taking their proper places. Thus it is said: Humanity was born at *yin*.

In response to Pangu's act of creation, the Three August Ones governed the world, and the Five Emperors established social order. The world was then divided into four great continents: the Eastern Continent of Superior Being, the Western Continent of Cattle-Gift, the Southern Continent of Jambu, and the Northern Continent of Kuru. This book concerns itself solely with the Eastern Continent of Superior Being. Beyond the sea there is a kingdom called the Kingdom of Aolai. The kingdom lies near the great sea, and in the sea there is a famous mountain called Flower-Fruit Mountain. This mountain is the ancestral vein of the ten continents and the source of the three islands; it was established when the clear and the murky were first divided, and it was formed after the primordial haze was split. Truly a magnificent mountain! A rhapsody testifies to this. The rhapsody reads:

Its power commands the vast ocean; its majesty calms the jade sea.

Its power commands the vast ocean—tides surge like silver mountains, fish retreat into caves;

Its majesty calms the jade sea—waves overturn snowy breakers, dragons leave the deep.

Fire and water pile high in their corners; to the east it rises as a towering peak.

Crimson cliffs and strange stones, sheer walls and wondrous summits.

Upon the crimson cliffs, a pair of phoenixes sing in unison;

Before the crouching cliff, a lone *qilin* reclines.

At the summit one often hears the golden pheasant cry;

In the stone caves one constantly sees dragons come and go.

In the forest there are aged deer and immortal foxes;

In the trees there are auspicious birds and dark cranes.

Exotic grasses and rare flowers never fade;

Green pines and cypresses are ever in spring.

Immortal peaches constantly bear fruit;

Tall bamboo always holds the clouds.

A single ravine is thick with vines and creepers;

The grass on all four banks is ever fresh.

Truly it is the pillar that upholds the hundred rivers,

The great root of earth that has not shifted through ten thousand kalpas.

At the very summit of that mountain there was an immortal stone. The stone was three hundred and sixty-five inches high, and twenty-four feet in circumference. Its height of three hundred and sixty-five inches corresponds to the three hundred and sixty-five degrees of the celestial sphere; its circumference of twenty-four feet corresponds to the twenty-four solar terms of the calendar. It had nine apertures and eight holes, corresponding to the nine palaces and eight trigrams. On all four sides there were no trees to shade it, but to the left and right there were orchids and ganoderma flanking it. Ever since the act of creation, it had received the true essence of heaven and earth, the essence of the sun and the moon, and having been so imbued for a long time, it acquired the power of spiritual awareness. Within it an immortal embryo was conceived, and one day it split open, producing a stone egg, large as a round ball. Meeting the wind, it was transformed into a stone monkey, with all five features complete and all four limbs whole. At once it learned to crawl and to walk, and it bowed to the four directions. From its eyes two beams of golden light shot forth, striking straight into the Palace of the Dipper. This alarmed the Most High, the Great Compassionate One, the Jade Emperor, the Great Celestial Worthy of the Exalted and Lofty Sovereign, who was seated in the Golden Palace of the Cloud Palace, the Hall of Spiritual Radiance, and had gathered his immortal ministers. Seeing the blazing golden light, he at once ordered the Thousand-Mile Eye and the Wind-Accompanying Ear to open the South Heavenly Gate and observe. The two generals indeed received the edict and went outside; they saw clearly and heard distinctly. After a moment they reported: "Your ministers, having received the edict to observe and listen at the place of the golden light, find that it is at the border of the small kingdom of Aolai, east of the sea, in the Eastern Continent of Superior Being. There is a Flower-Fruit Mountain, and on the mountain an immortal stone. The stone produced an egg, which, meeting the wind, became a stone monkey. It is there bowing to the four directions, its eyes emitting golden light that strikes the Palace of the Dipper. Now that it has taken food and water, the golden light will soon subside." The Jade Emperor graciously bestowed his mercy, saying: "That creature below is merely a product of the essence of heaven and earth; it is nothing strange."

The monkey in the mountain, however, could walk and leap, eat grass and trees, drink from mountain streams, gather mountain flowers, and seek out tree fruits. It kept company with wolves and insects, gathered with tigers and leopards, befriended the river deer and the roe deer, and was kin to the macaques and monkeys. At night it lodged beneath the stone cliffs; by day it roamed the peaks and caves. Truly it was as the saying goes: "In the mountains there is no reckoning of days; when the cold ends, one does not know the year."

One day, when the weather was hot, the monkey went with a troop of monkeys to escape the heat, all of them playing beneath the shade of the pines. Look at them, each one—

They leaped from tree to tree and climbed branches, plucking flowers and seeking out fruits; they tossed clay pellets and played with little mud balls; they ran in sand pits and built miniature pagodas; they chased dragonflies and caught crickets; they paid homage to Heaven and worshipped the Bodhisattva; they pulled down vines and wove grass hats; they caught lice and bit and pinched them; they groomed their fur and picked at their claws. They jostled and rubbed against one another; they pushed and pressed; they tugged and pulled: beneath the green pines they did as they pleased, and by the green mountain streams they washed and bathed as they liked.

After the troop of monkeys had played for a while, they went to bathe in the mountain stream. They saw the water rushing along, truly like tumbling melons and surging spray. As the ancients said: "Birds have the language of birds, and beasts have the language of beasts." All the monkeys said, "We don't know where this water comes from. Since we have nothing else to do today, let's follow the stream upward along the bank and find its source—let's go have some fun!" With a shout, they all came streaming along, carrying their sons and daughters, calling to their younger and older brothers, and together they ran up along the stream and climbed the mountain until they reached the source of the water, which turned out to be a waterfall and a flying spring. And this is what they saw:

A streak of white rainbow rises,

A thousand fathoms of snowy waves fly.

The sea wind cannot sever it,

The river moon shines and still clings near.

Cold air divides the blue peaks,

The remaining flow moistens the verdant hills.

Gurgling and murmuring—it bears the name of waterfall,

Truly it resembles a hanging curtain of beads.

The monkeys clapped their hands and praised it, saying, "Fine water! Fine water! So this place connects far below with the foot of the mountain and leads directly to the waves of the great sea." They also said, "Which one of you has the ability to dive in there, find the source, and come out without harming his body? We will make him our king." They called out three times, when suddenly from among the thick undergrowth a stone monkey leaped out and answered in a loud cry, "I'll go in! I'll go in." A fine monkey! And it was his day:

Today his glorious name is revealed,

The great moment of fortune has arrived.

By fate he dwells in this place,

Sent by destiny to enter the immortal's palace.

Watch him: he closed his eyes, crouched down, and with one leap of his body plunged straight into the waterfall spring. Suddenly he opened his eyes and raised his head to look around, and inside there was no water at all, no waves—bright and clear stood a single bridge. He stopped his body, steadied his spirit, and looked carefully again: it was actually an iron-plank bridge. The water beneath the bridge rushed through the stone crevices and flowed out upside down, covering the bridge's entrance. He then stepped forward onto the bridge and walked further to look again, and it seemed like a place where someone actually lived—truly a fine dwelling. And this is what he saw:

Green moss heaped like indigo,

White clouds floating like jade,

Light shimmering in patches of mist and rosy glow.

Empty windows and quiet chambers,

Slippery benches and plank seats blooming with patterns.

A milk cave where dragon pearls hang,

Winding back and filled with rare flowers everywhere.

Beside the cliff, traces of fire by the stove and hearth;

Near the table, dregs of food in cups and vessels.

Stone seats and stone beds—truly lovable;

Stone basins and stone bowls—even more praiseworthy.

And there too, one or two stalks of slender bamboo,

Three or five dots of plum blossoms.

Several pine trees ever bathed in rain,

The whole place just like a human household.

After gazing for a long time, he leaped to the middle of the bridge and looked left and right. He saw right in the center a stone tablet, on which was engraved a line of large characters in regular script, reading: "Blessed Land of the Flower-Fruit Mountain, Cave Heaven of the Water-Curtain Cave."

The stone ape was overjoyed beyond measure. He hastily withdrew and hurried out, then closed his eyes, crouched down, and leaped out beyond the water. He gave two loud laughs and said, "What great fortune! What great fortune!" The monkeys surrounded him and asked, "What's it like inside? How deep is the water?" The stone monkey said, "No water! No water! It's actually an iron-plank bridge, and on the other side of the bridge is a dwelling made by Heaven and Earth." The monkeys asked, "How do you know it's a dwelling?" The stone monkey laughed and said, "This water rushes through beneath the bridge, pours down upside down, and covers the entrance. By the side of the bridge there are flowers and trees—it's a stone house. Inside the house there are stone nests, stone stoves, stone bowls, stone basins, stone beds, and stone benches. In the middle, a stone tablet is engraved with the words 'Blessed Land of the Flower-Fruit Mountain, Cave Heaven of the Water-Curtain Cave.' It truly is a place for us to settle. And inside it's spacious enough to hold a thousand or a hundred mouths, old and young. Let's all go in and live there, and spare ourselves the sufferings of old Heaven. In this place:

When the wind blows, there's shelter to hide;

When it rains, there's a place to stay dry.

Frost and snow are nothing to fear,

The sound of thunder is never heard.

Mist and rosy glow ever shine,

Auspious vapors constantly rise.

Pines and bamboo flourish year after year,

Strange flowers are renewed day after day."

When the monkeys heard this, they were all delighted. They said, "You go first, lead us in, lead us in." The stone monkey again closed his eyes, crouched down, and leaped inside, calling out, "Follow me, everyone! Come in! Come in!" The bolder monkeys all leaped in; the timid ones stretched their necks and shrank back, scratched their ears and cheeks, cried out loudly, and after dawdling a while, they all went in too. Once they had leaped across the bridge, they snatched basins and bowls, fought over stoves and beds, moving things here and there—such is the mischievous nature of monkeys that not a single one was still for a moment, and only when they were exhausted did they stop. The stone ape sat upright on the top and said, "Honored friends, 'A man without trust—I don't know what is to be done with him.' You just said that whoever had the ability to get in, get out, and come to no bodily harm would be made king. Now I have gone in and come out, gone out and come in again, and I have found this cave heaven for all of you to sleep peacefully and enjoy the blessings of a home. Why don't you make me your king?" When the monkeys heard this, they all bowed in submission without protest, arranged themselves in order of age, and paid homage to him from above, all hailing him as "Great King of a Thousand Years."

From then on, the stone ape ascended the high throne and dropped the character "stone" from his name, becoming the "Handsome Monkey King." There is a poem as evidence. The poem says:

The three yang forces meet and bring forth all life,

The immortal stone womb contained the essence of sun and moon.

Borrowing an egg, it transformed into a monkey to fulfill the Great Way,

Using another's name and surname to match the completion of the elixir.

Looking within, one cannot recognize it, for it has no form;

Looking from without, one clearly knows it has taken on a shape.

In every age, all people belong to this—

To be called king or sage, acting freely as they will.

The Handsome Monkey King led a troop of gibbons, macaques, and horse monkeys, and assigned them to the roles of ruler, minister, assistant, and agent. In the morning they roamed the Flower-Fruit Mountain; at dusk they rested in the Water-Curtain Cave. They were of one heart and one mind; they did not join the flocks of flying birds or follow the herds of walking beasts. Alone he was king, and his joy was boundless. And so:

In spring they gathered hundred flowers for food,

In summer they sought out all fruits to sustain their lives.

In autumn they gathered taros and chestnuts, prolonging the season's pleasures; in winter they sought the yellow essence of polished rice to pass the years in peace.

The Handsome Monkey King enjoyed his carefree existence, and some three or four hundred years went by. One day, in the midst of a banquet with his monkey troop, he was suddenly seized with grief and began to weep. The monkeys rushed forward in alarm, bowing and kowtowing. "Why is Your Majesty distressed?" they asked.

"Even in my happiness," the Monkey King replied, "I have one small worry, and that is why I am troubled."

The monkeys laughed. "Your Majesty is truly insatiable! We meet in joy every day here on this blessed immortal mountain, in this ancient cave, in this divine land. We are not subject to the unicorn's rule, not governed by the phoenix, not restrained by any mortal king—free and unfettered, enjoying boundless fortune. Why should you worry about something far off?"

The Monkey King said, "True, today we escape the laws of mortal kings and have no fear of the fierceness of beasts. But in time, when we grow old and our blood runs weak, there is old King Yama in the shadows who has dominion over us. Once we die, shall we not have lived in this world in vain, unable to remain long among the ranks of gods and men?"

At these words, the monkeys covered their faces and wept, all troubled by the thought of impermanence.

Then suddenly from the ranks leaped a gibbon with white arms, crying out in a loud voice: "If Your Majesty harbors such far-reaching concerns, it is truly the awakening of the heart of the Way! Among the five kinds of creatures, there are only three classes whose names are not subject to old King Yama's authority."

"Do you know which three?" asked the Monkey King.

"They are the Buddhas, the Immortals, and the Sages. They have escaped the cycle of rebirth, neither arising nor perishing; they live as long as Heaven and Earth, as the mountains and rivers."

"Where do they dwell?" asked the Monkey King.

"They exist only in this world of Jambudvīpa, within ancient caves and immortal mountains."

The Monkey King was overjoyed. "Tomorrow I will take leave of you all, go down from the mountain, roam to the edges of the sea, and journey to the ends of the sky. I must find these three and learn the secret of eternal life, so as to escape forever the calamity of Lord Yama."

Ah! This single utterance broke the net of the cycle of rebirth and brought about the birth of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

The monkeys applauded and praised him, saying, "Splendid, splendid! Tomorrow we will cross the ridges and climb the mountains to gather fruits in abundance and prepare a great banquet to send Your Majesty on his way."

The next day the monkeys indeed went to pick divine peaches, pluck rare fruits, dig Chinese yams, and cut atractylodes. Orchids, fragrant epidendrons, fairy grasses, and wondrous flowers—every kind, every variety—were arranged in neat rows on stone benches and stone tables, with immortal wine and immortal delicacies set out in order. And this is what was seen:

Golden pellets and jeweled pits—blushing red and swelling yellow. The golden-pelleted, jeweled-pitted wax cherries were truly sweet and luscious; the red-blossoming, yellow-swelling ripe plums were fragrant and tart. Fresh longans had thin skins and sweet flesh; fire lychees had small stones and red sacs. Green apples on the branch were offered with stems attached; pale orange loquats were presented with their leaves still clinging. Rabbit-head pears and chicken-heart jujubes quenched thirst, relieved vexation, and sobered the drunk. Fragrant peaches and luscious apricots were sweet and lovely as jade liquid and immortal broth; crisp plums and red bayberries were tangy and rich as cream and curds. Ripe watermelons had red flesh and black seeds; large persimmons had four-lobed yellow skins. Pomegranates split open to reveal cinnabar grains like fiery crystal pearls; taros and chestnuts were cut apart to show firm flesh like golden agates. Walnuts and ginkgo nuts could be steeped for tea; coconuts and grapes could be made into wine. Hazelnuts, pine nuts, torreya nuts, and crabapples filled the trays; tangerines, sugar cane, mandarin oranges, and pomelos overflowed the table. Chinese yams were slow-roasted; atractylodes were thoroughly stewed. Poria and Job's tears were pounded to a paste and simmered slowly over a stone stove. Though the mortal world may have its delicacies, how could they compare to the contentment of these mountain monkeys?

The monkeys honored the Handsome Monkey King by seating him above, while the rest arranged themselves below according to age and rank. One by one they came forward to offer wine, flowers, and fruit, and they drank deeply all through the day.

The next morning, the Handsome Monkey King rose early and ordered: "Little ones, gather some dry pine branches and weave them into a raft. Find a bamboo pole for a pole, and pack some fruits and such. I am off."

He boarded the raft alone and pushed off with all his might. Drifting and floating, he made straight for the waves of the great sea, riding the heavenly wind to cross to the land of Jāmbudvīpa. And this journey was indeed:

The heaven-born immortal monkey, his powers now great,

Left the mountain on a raft, riding the wind.

He crossed oceans and seas seeking the Immortals' Way,

Resolved to devote himself to achieving great merit.

With proper fate and proper cause, he cast aside mortal vows;

Free of sorrow and care, he would meet the Primal Dragon.

He was sure to find one who understood,

Who would reveal the source and make all methods clear.

As fortune would have it, from the moment he boarded the wooden raft, a strong southeast wind blew for several days running, carrying him to the northwestern shore—the land of Jāmbudvīpa. He tested the water with his pole and happened upon shallow water. Abandoning the raft, he leaped ashore. Along the coast he saw people catching birds, digging clams, and evaporating salt. He stepped forward, played a trick, and made himself look like a monster, frightening the people so that they dropped their baskets and nets and fled in all directions. He caught one who could not run, stripped off his clothes, and put them on himself, aping human dress. He swaggered about, passing through prefectures and districts, learning human manners and human speech in the marketplaces. Eating by day, sleeping by night, his whole heart was set on seeking the Way of the Buddhas, Immortals, and Sages, searching for the secret of eternal life. But he saw that all the people of the world were those who struggled for fame and fortune; not one of them cared for the life of the soul. Indeed:

How long will the struggle for fame and profit go on?

Rising early, sleeping late—no freedom at all!

Riding a donkey or mule, they dream of fine steeds;

Serving as chancellor, they yearn to be kings.

They worry only about food and clothing, worn by toil and care—

Why fear that King Yama will come to claim them?

They scheme for wealth and honor to pass to sons and grandsons,

Yet not one of them is willing to turn back.

The Monkey King sought the Way of the Immortals but had no fortune to encounter it. He wandered through Jāmbudvīpa for some eight or nine years, passing through walled cities and visiting small counties. Suddenly he came to the Western Great Sea, and he thought to himself that there must be immortals beyond the seas. He built another raft as before and floated across the Western Sea until he reached the land of Aparagodānīva. Landing on the shore, he searched far and wide for a long time. Then suddenly he came upon a mountain, beautiful and serene, with deep and secluded forests. He feared neither wolves and serpents nor tigers and leopards, and climbed to the peak to gaze about. Truly it was a fine mountain:

A thousand peaks arrayed like halberds, ten thousand cliffs spread like folding screens. The sunlight shines upon the misty radiance, lightly veiling the emerald green; after the rain, the dark hues coldly hold a bluish tinge. Slender vines coil around aged trees; an ancient ferry marks a secluded path. Rare flowers and auspicious grasses, tall bamboo and lofty pines. The tall bamboo and lofty pines remain evergreen through ten thousand years, surpassing blessed grounds; the rare flowers and auspicious grasses never fade through the four seasons, rivaling the isles of Peng and Ying. The mournful calls of hidden birds draw near; the clear murmurings of springs ring pure. In valley after valley, orchids wind around; on every jagged cliff, mosses and lichens grow. The undulating ridges possess excellent dragon veins—surely a lofty person conceals his name here.

While he was gazing about, he suddenly heard the sound of someone speaking deep within the forest. Quickly hastening his steps, he pushed into the forest and pricked up his ears to listen. It turned out to be the sound of singing. The song went:

"The chess-watching board has rotted, the woodcutter's axe rings ding-ding, I slowly walk by the valley mouth amid the clouds. Selling firewood and buying wine, I laugh wildly and indulge my feelings. On a high autumn path facing the moon, I pillow my head on pine roots and sleep until dawn. Recognizing the old forest, I climb cliffs and cross ridges, wielding my axe to cut withered vines.

I gather a full load and walk singing to the market, trading it for three pecks of rice. There is no competition whatsoever, the price is fair and even. I know no schemes or cunning calculations, I am free from glory or disgrace, living in tranquility and prolonging my life. Where I meet others, they are either immortals or Daoists, sitting in stillness expounding the *Huangting*."

When the Handsome Monkey King heard these words, he was overjoyed and said, "So the immortals are hiding here!" He immediately leaped inside and looked carefully again. It was a woodcutter, there wielding his axe to chop firewood. But observe his extraordinary attire:

On his head he wore a bamboo-leaf hat—made from the sheaths newly shed by young bamboo shoots. On his body he wore a plain cloth robe—made from yarn spun from kapok. Around his waist he tied a girdle—made from thread spat by aged silkworms. On his feet he wore straw sandals—plaited from dried sedge. In his hand he held a pure steel firewood axe; on his shoulder he carried a hemp rope for his load. Hewing pines and splitting dry trees—who could match this woodcutter's skill?

The Monkey King stepped forward and called out, "Old Immortal, I greet you." The woodcutter hastily dropped his axe and turned to return the courtesy. "I am not worthy, I am not worthy. I am a rough fellow who cannot even provide enough food and clothing for myself—how dare I accept the title 'Immortal'?"

The Monkey King said, "If you are not an immortal, how did you speak the words of an immortal?"

The woodcutter said, "What immortal words did I speak?"

The Monkey King said, "I had only just reached the edge of the forest when I heard you say: 'Where I meet others, they are either immortals or Daoists, sitting in stillness expounding the *Huangting*.' The *Huangting* is the true scripture of the Way and its Virtue—if you are not an immortal, then what are you?"

The woodcutter laughed and said, "To tell you the truth, this lyric is called 'Man Ting Fang'—'Myriad Blossoms in the Courtyard'—and it was taught to me by an immortal. That immortal lives next door to my humble home. Seeing that my family's life is one of toil and hardship, and that I am troubled day to day, he taught me that when I encounter vexations, I should recite this lyric. For one thing, it clears my mind; for another, it relieves my distress. I had been pondering some shortcomings of mine, and so I recited it—I never expected you to overhear it."

The Monkey King said, "Since your home is next door to an immortal, why not study the Way under him? Wouldn't it be wonderful to learn the formula for never growing old?"

The woodcutter said, "My whole life has been bitter. From childhood I was raised by my parents until I was eight or nine years old, and only then did I begin to understand the ways of the world. Then, unhappily, my father died and my mother was widowed. I have no brothers or sisters—I am the only child. I had no choice but to serve her morning and evening. Now my mother is old, and I dare not leave her even more than before. Moreover, my fields lie fallow and my food and clothing are insufficient. I can only chop two bundles of firewood and carry them to the marketplace, where I sell them for a few coppers and buy a few pecks of rice, cooking and preparing meals myself to support and feed my aged mother. That is why I cannot cultivate the Way."

The Monkey King said, "From what you say, you are indeed a gentleman who practices filial piety, and you will surely have good fortune in the future. But I hope you will point me toward the dwelling of that immortal, so that I may go pay him a visit."

The woodcutter said, "It's not far, not far. This mountain is called Mount Lingtai Fangcun. On the mountain there is a cave called the Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars. In that cave there is an immortal, known as the Patriarch Subodhi. That Patriarch's disciples who have gone forth are beyond counting; even now there are thirty or forty people studying the Way under him. Follow that small path southward for about seven or eight li, and you will reach his dwelling."

The Monkey King seized the woodcutter by the hand and said, "Old fellow, come along with me. If I gain any benefit from this, I will never forget the kindness of your guidance."

The woodcutter said, "You, sir, are truly lacking in flexibility. I have just told you all this, and still you don't understand? If I went with you, wouldn't that ruin my livelihood? Who then would support my old mother? I must chop firewood. Go by yourself, go by yourself."

When the Monkey King heard this, he had no choice but to take his leave. He emerged from the deep forest, found the path, crossed a hillside, and after about seven or eight li, he indeed caught sight of a cave dwelling. He stood up straight and gazed—truly a magnificent place! Observe:

Mist and rosy clouds scatter their radiance; the sun and moon shimmer with light. A thousand ancient cypresses, ten thousand sections of tall bamboo. The thousand ancient cypresses, half-hidden in the misty sky, are richly green; the ten thousand sections of tall bamboo, enveloped in smoke, fill the valley with a verdant hue. Beyond the gate, rare flowers are spread like brocade; beside the bridge, auspicious grasses emit fragrance. The stone cliffs rise abruptly, moist with green moss; the hanging walls are draped high with long emerald lichens. One often hears the cry of cranes; one frequently sees the soaring of phoenixes. When the cranes cry, their voices resound through the nine marshes, reaching far into the heavens; when the phoenixes soar, their plumes glow with five colors amid the luminous clouds. Dark apes and white deer appear and disappear as they please; golden lions and jade elephants roam freely as they will. Observe closely this blessed and numinous place—it truly rivals Heaven.

Then he noticed that the cave's gate was tightly closed, quiet and still with no trace of anyone about. Suddenly he turned and saw a stone stele standing at the cliff's edge, about three zhang high and eight chi wide, upon which were engraved ten large characters reading: "Mount Lingtai Fangcun, Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars." The Handsome Monkey King was overjoyed and said, "The people here are indeed honest and plain—there truly is such a mountain and such a cave." He gazed for a long time but did not dare knock on the gate. Instead he leaped up to the tip of a pine branch, picked some pine nuts, and amused himself by eating them.

After a short while, he heard a creak as the cave gate opened, and an immortal boy emerged from within. His bearing was truly heroic and majestic, his appearance extraordinary and refined—quite different from ordinary commoners. Observe him:

His hair was bound in two topknots with silk threads, his wide robe billowing in the wind from both sleeves.

His face and his body were distinct from the world; his mind and his form alike were empty.

A guest beyond the world for years uncounted,

A child of eternal life within the mountain.

Not a single speck of dust defiles him,

While the cycles of time turn and tumble on.

The boy came out through the door and called out loudly, "What person is making a disturbance here?" The Monkey King leaped down from the tree, stepped forward, and bowed. "Immortal child, I am a disciple in search of the Way and the study of immortality. I would not dare make a disturbance here." The immortal child smiled and said, "Are you one who seeks the Way?" The Monkey King said, "Yes." The boy said, "My master has just risen from his seat and ascended the platform to expound the Way. Before he could even explain the reason, he told me to come out and open the gate. He said, 'A cultivator has come outside—go and receive him.' That must be you?" The Monkey King laughed and said, "It is me, it is me." The boy said, "Come in with me."

The Monkey King straightened his robes and composed himself, then followed the boy straight into the depths of the grotto-heaven to look around. Story upon story of deep pavilions and jade towers, court upon court of pearl palaces and shell gates—words could not exhaust the quiet chambers and secluded dwellings. They went all the way to below the Jasper Terrace, where they saw the Patriarch of Bodhi seated upright upon the platform, with thirty lesser immortals standing in attendance on either side below. Truly it was:

A Great Awakened Golden Immortal, free of all defilement,

The wondrous form of the West, the Patriarch of Bodhi.

Neither born nor destroyed, practicing the Triple Path,

With whole spirit and whole energy, boundless in compassion.

Emptiness and stillness naturally follow transformation,

True Suchness and original nature act as they will.

A venerable body coeval with Heaven,

The great Dharma master whose mind has been illumined through countless kalpas.

The Handsome Monkey King saw him at once, threw himself down, and bowed, kowtowing countless times, saying only, "Master, Master, your disciple worships you with all his heart, worships you with all his heart." The Patriarch said, "What region are you from? Tell me clearly your place and your name, then bow again." The Monkey King said, "Your disciple is from the Water Curtain Cave on Flower-Fruit Mountain in the Kingdom of Aolai in the Continent of Superior Victory." The Patriarch shouted an order: "Drive him out! He is nothing but a fraud and a deceiver—how could he cultivate any fruit of the Way?" The Monkey King hastily kowtowed without ceasing and said, "Your disciple speaks only the truth—there is no fraud whatsoever." The Patriarch said, "If you are truthful, then why do you say the Continent of Superior Victory? That place is separated from here by two vast oceans and the Continent of Southern Jambudvīpa. How could you have gotten here?" The Monkey King knocked his head and said, "Your disciple crossed the oceans and wandered through the realms for more than ten years before he finally found his way here."

The Patriarch said, "Since you came gradually, that is acceptable. What is your surname?" The Monkey King said again, "I have no nature. If people insult me, I am not angered. If they strike me, I am not enraged. I merely make a polite apology and that is all. I have no nature my whole life." The Patriarch said, "Not that kind of nature. What was your father's original surname?" The Monkey King said, "I have no parents either." The Patriarch said, "Since you have no parents, I suppose you were born from a tree?" The Monkey King said, "Though I was not born from a tree, I was born from a stone. I only remember that on Flower-Fruit Mountain there was a magical stone. In that year the stone cracked open, and I was born." The Patriarch heard this and was secretly pleased. "In that case, you were born of Heaven and Earth. Get up and walk for me to see." The Monkey King leaped up and hobbled back and forth twice. The Patriarch laughed and said, "Though your body is ugly, you resemble a hu-sun—a fruit-eating monkey. I will take a surname from your body and give you the surname Hu. If you remove the beast radical from Hu, you get gu-yue. Gu means 'old,' and yue means 'yin.' Old yin cannot transform and nurture, so it would be better to give you the surname Sun. If you remove the beast radical from Sun, you get zi-xi. Zi means 'son,' and xi means 'infant'—this accords perfectly with the fundamental nature of an infant. Let your surname be Sun." The Monkey King was overjoyed and kowtowed toward the platform. "Good! Good! Good! Today I finally know my surname. I humbly beg for the Master's compassion—since I now have a surname, please also bestow a name upon me, so that I may be called." The Patriarch said, "In our school there are twelve characters used in order to give names. You are the tenth generation of disciples." The Monkey King said, "What are the twelve characters?" The Patriarch said: "They are Guang, Da, Zhi, Hui, Zhen, Ru, Xing, Hai, Ying, Wu, Yuan, and Jue. Counting to you, you fall on the character Wu. I will give you the dharma name Sun Wukong. Is that good?" The Monkey King laughed and said, "Good! Good! Good! From this day forward I shall be called Sun Wukong." Indeed:

Before the Primordial Chaos was first sundered, he had no surname;

To smash the stubborn void, one must Wukong—Awaken to Emptiness.

As for what fruits of the Way he would cultivate hereafter, let us listen to the explanation in the next chapter.