The Great Sage Equal to Heaven was, when all was said and done, a monster-monkey. He cared nothing for official rank or grade, nor weighed his stipend high or low; his name stood on the register, and that was enough for him. The two clerks of the Equal-to-Heaven residence attended him morning and evening, and he knew only his three meals by day and his single couch by night, with no affairs to bind him — free and utterly at ease.
In his idle hours he called on friends and roamed the palaces, making companions and sworn brothers. Meeting the Three Pure Ones, he would call them merely “Venerable”; coming upon the Four Emperors, he would say only “Your Majesty.” With the Nine Bright Stars, the Generals of the Five Quarters, the Twenty-Eight Lunar Mansions, the Four Great Heavenly Kings, the Twelve Horary Branches, the Five Elders of the Five Regions, the star-lords of all heaven and the gods of the Starry River — with every one of them he dealt as brother to brother, trading familiar greetings. Today he roamed east and tomorrow he drifted west; cloud-going, cloud-coming, his comings and goings were never fixed.
One day, as the Jade Emperor held his early court, the True Person Xu Jingyang stepped from the ranks and bowed low. “The Great Sage Equal to Heaven has no duties and idles about,” he reported. “He befriends the star-host of heaven, high and low alike, and calls them all his friends. I fear that, left idle, he will breed trouble. Better to give him some charge, that no further mischief arise.”
Hearing this, the Jade Emperor at once issued a summons, and the Monkey King came delighted. “Your Majesty — for what promotion have you summoned old Sun?”
“Seeing you idle and unoccupied,” said the Jade Emperor, “I give you a charge. You shall take provisional command of the Peach Garden, and tend it well morning and evening.”
Overjoyed, the Great Sage gave thanks for the grace, made his bowing salute toward the throne and withdrew. Unable to wait in his eagerness, he went straight into the Peach Garden to make his inspection, and there a local earth-god barred his way.
“Where is the Great Sage bound?”
“By the Jade Emperor's command I am appointed to take charge of the Peach Garden,” said the Great Sage, “and have come now to inspect it.”
The earth-god hastily made obeisance and summoned that whole company — the hoe-the-trees strongmen, the carry-the-water strongmen, the tend-the-peaches strongmen, the sweep-and-clean strongmen — all to come and kowtow before the Great Sage, and led him within. And there he saw:
Lush and glowing, fruit upon fruit, tree upon tree.
Lush and glowing, blossoms crowd the boughs; fruit upon fruit, the laden branches bend.
Heavy on the branch-tips hang brocade pellets; thick on the trees the blossoms cluster like rouge.
Ever opening, ever setting, ripe in a thousand years; no summer and no winter, slow across ten thousand.
The early-ripe: faces flushed as if with wine; the still-green: stems intact, their skins yet blue.
Mist-cured, their flesh tinged green; sun-struck, they show a cinnabar grace.
Beneath the trees rare blooms and exotic plants, through all four seasons unfading, their colours even.
To left and right, towers and lodges; filling the air, a canopy of drifting cloud and rainbow.
No common breed of the Mystic Capital these, but the Queen Mother of the Jade Pool's own planting.
When he had viewed it a good while, the Great Sage asked the earth-god how many trees the orchard had.
“Three thousand six hundred in all,” said the earth-god. “The twelve hundred in front bear small blossoms and small fruit, ripening once in three thousand years; eat of them and a man becomes an immortal and completes the Way, his body hale and light. The twelve hundred in the middle bear layered blossoms and sweet fruit, ripening once in six thousand years; eat of them and a man rises on the rosy clouds and ascends, long-living and unaging. The twelve hundred behind bear purple-veined fruit with pale-yellow pits, ripening once in nine thousand years; eat of them and a man's years equal heaven and earth's, his age the same as the sun and moon's.”
Hearing this, the Great Sage was overjoyed beyond measure. That very day he checked the count of the trees, looked over the pavilions and returned to his residence; and from then on he came to enjoy the garden once every few days, no longer visiting friends nor roaming abroad.
One day, seeing that the old trees were more than half ripe at the branch-tips, his heart was set on tasting the new fruit; but the garden's earth-god, the strongmen and the clerks of the Equal-to-Heaven residence followed so closely that it was awkward. Suddenly he hit on a scheme.
“You all wait outside the gate a while,” he said, “and let me rest here on the pavilion a moment.”
The immortals duly withdrew. Then the Monkey King slipped off cap and robe, climbed the great trees, picked out the ripest, largest peaches — a good many of them — and there on the branches ate his fill at his ease. Only when he had eaten his fill did he jump down, pin on his cap and don his robe, and call his retinue to return with him to the residence. After two or three days he went again, contrived a way to steal peaches, and ate as much as he pleased.
One day the Lady Queen Mother set out a banquet, threw open the Treasure Pavilion and held the Grand Peach Feast at the Jade Pool. She thereupon ordered the fairies in red, in azure, in white, in black, in purple, in yellow and in green each to take up a flower-basket and go to the Peach Garden to pick peaches for the feast.
The seven-robed fairies came right up to the garden gate, and there were the Peach Garden's earth-god and strongmen, together with the two clerks of the Equal-to-Heaven residence, all guarding it. The fairies came forward. “We come by the Queen Mother's august command, to pick peaches here and lay out the feast.”
“Hold a moment, fairy maidens,” said the earth-god. “This year is not as years past. The Jade Emperor has appointed the Great Sage Equal to Heaven to oversee this place, and we must report to the Great Sage before we dare open the garden.”
“Where is the Great Sage?”
“The Great Sage is within. Being weary, he is asleep by himself up on the pavilion.”
“If so, then go and find him,” said the fairies. “There must be no delay.”
The earth-god went in with them at once. But searching to the flower-pavilion they found him gone: only his robe and cap lay there, and where he had gone none knew — nowhere on any side was there a trace of him. For the Great Sage, after sporting a while and eating a few peaches, had changed into a little figure two cùn tall and fallen asleep beneath the dense leaves at the very top of one of the great trees.
“We have come by command and cannot find the Great Sage,” said the seven-robed fairies. “How should we dare go back empty-handed?”
A serving-immortal standing near spoke up. “Since you fairy maidens come by command, there is no need to hesitate. Our Great Sage is well used to roaming at leisure; he has likely gone out of the garden to visit friends. Go and pick your peaches — we will answer for you when he returns.”
The fairies did as they were told and went in beneath the trees to pick. From the front trees they took two baskets, then from the middle trees three; but coming to the rear trees they found blossom and fruit sparse, with only a few green-skinned, downy-stemmed ones left — for the ripe ones had all been eaten by the Monkey King.
The seven fairies looked this way and that, and saw on a south-facing branch a single peach, half red and half white. The azure-robed fairy pulled the branch down by hand, the red-robed fairy picked it, and then she let the branch spring back up.
Now the Great Sage, having transformed, was asleep on that very branch, and her tug startled him awake. He showed his true form at once, drew the gold-banded cudgel from his ear and gave it a shake till it was thick as a bowl.
“What sort of fiend are you,” he shouted, “that dares so boldly steal and pick my peaches?”
In terror the seven fairies knelt all together. “Let the Great Sage stay his wrath. We are no demons, but the Seven-Robed Fairies sent by the Lady Queen Mother to pick the immortal peaches, throw open the Treasure Pavilion and hold the Grand Peach Feast. Coming here just now, we first met the garden's earth-god and the rest, and sought the Great Sage but could not find him. Fearing to be late for the Queen Mother's command, we could not wait for the Great Sage, and so picked here first. We beg ten thousand pardons for the offence.”
Hearing this, the Great Sage turned his anger to delight. “Rise, fairy maidens. When the Queen Mother opens her pavilion and lays out the feast, who are the invited?”
“The upper feast has its old roster,” said the fairies. “Those invited are the Old Buddha of the Western Heaven, the Bodhisattvas, holy monks and arhats; in the south, Guanyin of the Southern Pole; in the east, the Holy Emperor Chong'en and the immortal sages of the Ten Continents and Three Isles; in the north, the Dark Numen of the Northern Pole; in the centre, the Great Immortal Yellow-Horn of the Yellow Pole — these are the Five Elders of the Five Regions. There are also the Five Dipper Star-Lords; of the upper eight caverns, the Three Pure Ones, the Four Emperors, the Grand-Monad Heavenly Immortals and their host; of the middle eight caverns, the Jade Emperor, the Nine Ramparts, and the gods of seas and peaks; of the lower eight caverns, the Lord of the Dark Netherworld and the earth-immortals who order the world; and the great and small honoured gods of every palace and hall — all alike come to the fair Peach Feast.”
The Great Sage smiled. “And am I invited?”
“We have not heard it said.”
“I am the Great Sage Equal to Heaven,” he said. “Why should it not do to invite old Sun to take the seat of honour?”
“This was the old roster of the former feast,” said the fairies. “How it may be for this one, we cannot say.”
“What you say is fair enough — no blame to you,” said the Great Sage. “Wait here while old Sun goes first to get wind of how things stand, and sees whether old Sun is invited or no.”
The brave Great Sage held the magic sign and recited a spell. “Halt! Halt! Halt!” he said to the fairies.
This, it turned out, was a body-fixing spell, and it left the seven of them staring stiff and blank, the whites of their eyes turned up, all standing rooted beneath the peach trees. The Great Sage leapt onto a cloud, sprang out of the garden and made straight along the road to the Jade Pool. As he went, he saw over yonder:
A sky of auspicious haze, its light a-shimmer; five-coloured clouds of blessing, flying without end.
A white crane's cry rings out, rousing the deep marsh; purple lingzhi, exquisite, unfolds its thousand leaves.
In their midst appears an immortal of high station, his features wholly natural, his bearing set apart.
His spirit dances on rainbows, flashing through the starry sky; at his waist hangs a sacred register, beyond birth and death.
His name is the Barefoot Great Luo Immortal, come expressly to the Peach Feast that lengthens life.
The Barefoot Immortal came face to face with the Great Sage; and the Great Sage, lowering his head, laid a scheme to gull the true immortal, for he meant to slip in to the feast unseen.
“Where is the venerable one bound?” he asked.
“By the Queen Mother's gracious summons,” said the Immortal, “I go to attend the fair Peach Feast.”
“The venerable one has not heard, then. Because old Sun's somersault-cloud is swift, the Jade Emperor has ordered old Sun to ride all five roads and invite the assembled lords first to the Hall of Penetrating Brightness to rehearse the ceremony, and only afterward go to the banquet.”
The Immortal, being an open and upright man, took his lying words for truth. “In ordinary years we rehearse the rite and give thanks at the Jade Pool itself. How is it that now we first go to the Hall of Penetrating Brightness to rehearse, and only then to the Jade Pool for the feast?”
Having no choice, he could only turn his auspicious cloud about and head straight for the Hall of Penetrating Brightness.
The Great Sage, riding his cloud and reciting a spell, shook himself and changed into the very likeness of the Barefoot Immortal, then sped on toward the Jade Pool. In no long while he came right up to the Treasure Pavilion, stilled his cloud, stepped lightly forward and went inside. And there he saw:
Fragrance of jade curling and winding, auspicious haze in riotous profusion.
The jade terrace spread with coloured silks, the treasure pavilion breathing a dense sweet vapour.
Phoenix soaring, simurgh wheeling, their forms ethereal; golden blossoms, jade calyxes, their reflections rising and sinking.
Set out above: nine-phoenix screens of cinnabar cloud, eight-treasure stools of purple rainbow, five-coloured tables traced in gold, and basins of green jade with a thousand flowers.
On the tables, dragon-liver and phoenix-marrow, bear's paw and ape's lip.
Rare viands of a hundred flavours, every one delicious; exotic fruits and fine dishes, every kind fresh.
There all was laid out in perfect order — yet not an immortal had come.
The Great Sage was gazing about him endlessly when he caught a gust of wine-fragrance at his nose. He turned his head and saw, beneath the long gallery on the right wall, several wine-brewing immortal officers and lees-working strongmen, leading a few water-carrying Daoists and fire-tending boys, washing vats and scrubbing jars; and they had already made jade-fluid and jasper-broth, fragrant ale and fine vintage. The Great Sage could not stop the drool at the corners of his mouth and longed to go and drink — but those people were all right there.
So he worked a magic. He plucked out a few hairs, threw them into his mouth, chewed them to bits, spat them out, recited a spell and called, “Change!” They turned at once into several sleep-insects, which flew onto the faces of the company. Look at that crowd — hands slack, heads drooping, brows shut and eyes closed, they dropped their tasks and all went off to doze.
Then the Great Sage took some of the hundred-flavoured delicacies and fine dishes, walked into the long gallery, and right at the vats, up against the jars, let loose his capacity and drank deep. Having drunk his fill a good while, he was dead drunk.
He took stock of himself. “No good, no good! In a little while the invited guests will come — won't they blame me? If I'm seized on the spot, how will that be? Better get back to my residence early and sleep it off.”
The brave Great Sage, swaying and reeling, emboldened by the wine, went barging about as the mood took him, and in a while he took the wrong road: not to the Equal-to-Heaven residence at all, but to the Tushita Heavenly Palace. The moment he saw it he came to himself with a start.
“The Tushita Palace is above the Thirty-Three Heavens, the abode of the Most High Lord Lao in the Heaven of Parted Sorrow. How have I blundered here? Well, no matter, no matter: I have long meant to call on the old one and never managed it; now, while I still have these last steps in me, let me pay him a visit — that would be no bad thing.”
He straightened his robe and barged in, but there was no Lord Lao to be seen, not a soul anywhere. For the Lord Lao was up in the three-storeyed high pavilion, on the Vermilion-Mound Cinnabar Terrace, expounding the Way with the Lamp-lighting Old Buddha, and the immortal lads, generals, officers and clerks all stood attending to left and right, listening.
The Great Sage went right into the elixir-chamber, but sought and met no one. He saw only that beside the elixir-furnace there was fire in the brazier, and that to left and right of the furnace were set five gourds, and in the gourds was all the refined golden elixir.
“This thing is the supreme treasure of the immortals,” said the Great Sage with delight. “Ever since old Sun completed the Way, I have seen through the principle that inner and outer are one, and have meant to refine some golden elixir to save others — only, back home, I never had the leisure. Today there's an affinity, and here I've run into the very thing. While the old man's away, let me eat a few pills of his to taste the new.”
He then tipped out all the gourds and ate the lot, just as if he were eating fried beans.
In a moment the elixir filled him and the wine wore off, and again he reckoned to himself. “No good, no good! This calamity is bigger than heaven itself; if it stirs the Jade Emperor, my life won't be safe. Go, go, go — better go down to the mortal world and be a king there.”
So he ran out of the Tushita Palace, took not the old road but went by the Western Heaven Gate, worked an invisibility spell and fled. He pressed down his cloud and came back to the bounds of the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, where he saw banners flashing and spears agleam: it was the Four Stalwart Generals and the kings of the seventy-two caves, drilling at arms.
“My little ones, I am back!” the Great Sage called out loud.
The throng of fiends dropped their weapons and knelt. “How easy-hearted the Great Sage is — leaving us so long, never coming to look in on us!”
“Not long at all,” said the Great Sage. “Not long at all.”
Chattering as they went, they passed deep into the cave-heaven. The Four Stalwart Generals tidied his quarters and saw him settled, and when the kowtows and bows were done they all asked, “In the hundred-odd years the Great Sage has been in heaven, what office did you really hold?”
The Great Sage laughed. “I remember it as scarcely half a year. How is it you speak of a hundred-odd years?”
“One day in heaven,” said the Generals, “is a year here below.”
“It is my good fortune that the Jade Emperor took such a liking to me this time,” said the Great Sage. “He truly enthroned me as Great Sage Equal to Heaven, raised an Equal-to-Heaven residence, and set up two offices, Tranquillity and Spirit-Repose, each staffed with immortal clerks and guards. Later, seeing me idle, he set me to mind the Peach Garden. Lately, because the Queen Mother held the Grand Peach Feast and did not invite me, I did not wait for her invitation but went first to the Jade Pool, and her immortal viands and immortal wine I stole and ate, every one. Coming out of the Jade Pool, all a-stagger, I blundered into Lord Lao's palace, and his five gourds of golden elixir I stole and ate as well. Then, fearing the Jade Emperor would charge me with the crime, I made my way out of the Heaven Gate just now.”
The throng of fiends, hearing this, was overjoyed. They at once laid out wine and fruit to wash off the dust of travel, and poured a full stone bowl of coconut wine and offered it up. The Great Sage drank a mouthful, then grimaced, baring his teeth. “Not good to drink, not good to drink.”
“In the Heavenly Palace the Great Sage drank immortal wine and ate immortal fare,” said Beng and Ba, the two generals, “and so the coconut wine is not much to his taste. As the saying goes: sweet or not, it is the water of home.”
“And you are just the other half of it: kin or not, they are the folk of home,” said the Great Sage. “This morning, while I was enjoying myself at the Jade Pool, I saw beneath the long gallery a great many jars and pots, all of jade-fluid and jasper-broth. None of you has ever tasted it; let me go and steal a few jars back, and each of you shall drink half a cup, and every one of you will be long-living and unaging.”
The monkeys were overjoyed beyond bearing. The Great Sage went out of the cave-mouth at once, turned another somersault, worked an invisibility spell and went straight to the Peach Feast; and entering the Jade Pool palace, he saw those few brewers, lees-workers, water-carriers and fire-tenders still snoring, not yet awake. He clamped two of the largest jars under his arms, left and right, carried two more in his hands, turned his cloud about and came back; and gathering the monkeys in the cave, he held an immortal-wine feast, and each drank a few cups — and there we leave their merriment.
Now those seven-robed fairies, caught in the Great Sage's body-fixing spell, could free themselves only after one full revolution of the heavens. Each then took up her flower-basket and returned to report to the Queen Mother. “The Great Sage Equal to Heaven bound us fast with a spell, and so we are late.”
“How many peaches did you pick?” the Queen Mother asked.
“Only two baskets of small peaches and three of medium. As for the rear trees, there was not even half a large peach — we think the Great Sage stole and ate them all. And just as we were searching, the Great Sage came out upon us unawares, dealt us savage blows, and demanded who was invited to the feast. We told over the roster of the former feast, and he fixed us in place and went off, none knew where. Only now have we come to and made our way back.”
Hearing this, the Queen Mother went straight to see the Jade Emperor and laid the whole matter before him. Before she had finished, the wine-brewing company too, with the immortal officers and the rest, came to report. “We know not what person threw the Grand Peach Feast into confusion and stole and drank the jade-fluid and jasper-broth; and the eight delicacies and hundred flavours were all stolen and eaten as well.”
Then four Grand Celestial Masters came to report up: “The Most High Patriarch of the Way is here.” The Jade Emperor went out with the Queen Mother to receive him, and when Lord Lao had made his obeisance he said, “In this old Daoist's palace I had refined some nine-cycle golden elixir, in readiness for Your Majesty's Grand Elixir-Prime Assembly; but unexpectedly it has been stolen by a thief, and I come expressly to inform Your Majesty.”
The Jade Emperor, hearing the report, was struck with dread.
In a little while an immortal clerk of the Equal-to-Heaven residence came kowtowing. “Sun the Great Sage has not kept to his duties; he went off roaming yesterday and has not returned to this hour, and none knows where he has gone.”
The Jade Emperor's misgivings grew the deeper. Then the Barefoot Immortal too, bowing low, reported: “Your servant, summoned by the Queen Mother, went yesterday to the feast, and chanced to meet the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, who told your servant that Your Majesty had a command bidding him invite us first to the Hall of Penetrating Brightness to rehearse the rite before going to the feast. Your servant followed his words and returned at once outside the Hall of Penetrating Brightness; but seeing no sign of Your Majesty's dragon-car and phoenix-carriage, I hastened here to attend.”
The Jade Emperor was more alarmed than ever. “This wretch has forged a decree and gulled my worthy minister. Quickly order the Inspecting Numinous Officer to track down this wretch's trail.”
The Numinous Officer received the command, went out of the hall to make his inquiries everywhere, learned the whole of it in detail, and returned to report: “The one who threw the Heavenly Palace into confusion is the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.” And he told over the whole prior matter.
The Jade Emperor, in great wrath, at once dispatched the Four Great Heavenly Kings, together with the Heavenly King Li and Prince Nezha, to muster the Twenty-Eight Mansions, the Nine Luminary star-officers, the Twelve Horary Branches, the Jiedi of the Five Quarters, the Merit-officers of the Four Watches, the eastern and western star-lords, the gods of north and south, the Five Peaks and Four Watercourses, and the star-host of all heaven — a hundred thousand celestial troops in all — to spread eighteen frames of sky-net and earth-snare, go down to the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, beleaguer it, and be sure to seize that wretch for punishment.
The host of gods raised their army at once and left the Heavenly Palace. On this march, behold:
Yellow wind rolling, darkening the sky; purple fog surging, dimming the earth.
All because the monster-monkey flouted the High Emperor, the assembled sages are sent down to the mortal dust.
The Four Great Heavenly Kings, the Jiedi guardians of the Five Quarters:
The Four Great Kings hold the supreme command; the Five-Quarter Jiedi muster the massed host.
Li the Pagoda-bearer holds the signal of the central army; fierce Nezha leads the vanguard's front.
Rāhu the star takes the head and musters the ranks; Ketu the star follows behind, towering.
The Moon-star, its spirits roused; the Sun-star, shining clear.
The Five-Element stars, every one a champion; the Nine Bright stars, who most love a fray.
The Horary stars of zi, wu, mao and you — each and all of them mighty celestial soldiers.
The Five Plague-lords and Five Peaks arrayed east and west; the Six Ding and Six Jia marching left and right.
The dragon-gods of the Four Watercourses ranged above and below; the Twenty-Eight Mansions in dense array, rank on rank.
Jiao, Kang, Di and Fang as chief commanders; Kui, Lou, Wei and Mao, well used to the fray.
Dou, Niu, Nü, Xu, Wei, Shi and Bi; Xin, Wei and Ji — every star a master.
Jing, Gui, Liu, Xing, Zhang, Yi and Zhen, wielding spears and whirling swords, showing their might.
Halting their clouds, sending down mist, they came to the mortal world, and before the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit pitched their camp.
A poem says:
The heaven-born Monkey King, of many transformations, stole the elixir, stole the wine, and revelled in his mountain den.
Just because he threw the Peach Feast into confusion, a hundred thousand celestial troops now spread their net.
At that time the Heavenly King Li passed his orders, had the celestial troops pitch their camp, and ringed the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit so tight that not even water could leak through; above and below he spread the eighteen frames of sky-net and earth-snare, and first sent out the Nine Bright Fierce Stars to give battle. They led their troops straight to the cave-mouth, and there saw the monkeys, big and small, leaping and frolicking outside.
A star-officer cried out in a stern voice. “You little fiends! Where is that Great Sage of yours? We are celestial gods dispatched from the upper realm, come to subdue this rebel Great Sage. Bid him come quickly and surrender; and should he utter half a no, you will all be put to the sword.”
The little fiends hurried in to report. “Great Sage — disaster! Disaster! Outside there are nine fierce gods, calling themselves celestial gods sent from the upper realm to take the Great Sage captive.”
The Great Sage was just then sharing immortal wine with the kings of the seventy-two caves and the Four Stalwart Generals, and he paid it no heed at all. “Today there's wine — today get drunk; never mind the rights and wrongs at the gate.”
Before he had finished, a band of little fiends came leaping in again. “Those nine fierce gods, with foul words and abusive tongues, are hurling challenges at the gate.”
The Great Sage laughed. “Take no notice of him. With poems and wine let's seek today's pleasure; as for rank and fame, ask not when they'll be won.”
He had hardly spoken when yet another band came to report. “Sire! Those nine fierce gods have already broken down the gate and are fighting their way in.”
“These churlish hair-gods — what gross insolence!” said the Great Sage in anger. “I had meant not to bother with them, but how dare they come to my very door to bully me?”
He gave the order at once to the One-Horned Demon King. “Lead the kings of the seventy-two caves out to battle. Old Sun will follow with the Four Stalwart Generals.”
The Demon King swiftly led the fiend-soldiers out of the gate to meet the foe, but the Nine Bright Fierce Stars fell on them all at once and pinned them at the head of the Iron-Plank Bridge, so that none could get out.
Amid the uproar the Great Sage arrived. “Make way!” he called. He drew out the iron cudgel, gave it a shake until it was thick as a bowl and a zhàng and two in length, set his stance and came striking out. Which of the Nine Luminaries dared withstand him? In a moment they were beaten back.
The Nine Bright Stars steadied their ranks. “You death-defying Pi-ma-wen, you have committed the Ten Evil Crimes: first you stole peaches, then you stole wine, you threw the Grand Peach Feast into confusion, you filched Lord Lao's immortal elixir, and you stole the royal wine and brought it here to make merry. Crime heaped upon crime — do you not know it?”
The Great Sage laughed. “These several matters — true, all true. But what of it now?”
“We bear the Jade Emperor's golden command,” said the Nine Bright Stars, “and have led our host here to subdue you. Submit at once and spare these living creatures from yielding up their lives; if not, we will trample this mountain flat and overturn this cave.”
“I daresay you churlish hair-gods, what magic powers have you, that you dare spout such wild words?” said the Great Sage in great wrath. “Don't run off — taste a blow of old Sun's cudgel!”
The Nine Bright Stars all leapt forward together; but the Handsome Monkey King, not flinching a hair's breadth, swung up his gold-banded cudgel and warded left and right. He battled them until their sinews failed and their strength went slack, and one by one they dragged their weapons backwards and fled in defeat, hurrying into the central command-tent.
“That Monkey King is truly valiant in the extreme,” they said to the Pagoda-bearing Heavenly King. “We could not prevail against him, and have come back beaten.”
The Heavenly King Li then deployed the Four Great Heavenly Kings with the Twenty-Eight Mansions, and they marched out as one to do battle. The Great Sage, for his part, feared them not at all: he called out the One-Horned Demon King, the kings of the seventy-two caves and the four Stalwart Generals, and drew them up in battle array outside the cave-mouth. Look at this great mêlée — a fearsome sight indeed:
Cold wind soughing, weird fog brooding.
On that side, banners flying their colours; on this side, dagger-axes and halberds agleam.
Rank on rank of bright helmets, layer on layer of shining mail.
The bright helmets, rank on rank, mirror the sun, like silver chimes ringing against the sky; the shining mail, layer on layer, builds up like a cliff-face, like an ice-mountain bearing down on the earth.
Long-shafted sabres, flying cloud and flashing lightning; white mulberry spears, crossing mist and piercing cloud.
Square-sky halberds, tiger-eye maces, arrayed thick as a hemp-grove; bronze swords, four-bright spades, ranked dense as a forest.
Curved bows, stiff crossbows, eagle-feathered shafts; short cudgels and serpent-lances that snatch the soul away.
The Great Sage, with his one As-You-Will cudgel, turning and wheeling, battles the gods of heaven.
He fights till no bird crosses the empty air, and the tigers and wolves flee within the hills;
flung sand and rolling stones — heaven and earth go black; scattered earth and flying dust — the universe grows dim.
One hears only clang upon clatter, startling heaven and earth, fierce and terrible, shaking the very gods and ghosts.
This battle, with ranks drawn up from the hour of the Dragon, raged in confusion until the sun set behind the western hills. The One-Horned Demon King and the fiends of the seventy-two caves were all taken captive by the host of gods, and only the Four Stalwart Generals and the band of monkeys escaped, hiding deep at the bottom of the Water-Curtain Cave.
This Great Sage, with his one cudgel, held off the Four Great Gods, Li the Pagoda-bearer and Prince Nezha, all in mid-air. When he had fought a good while and saw the day growing late, he plucked a handful of hairs, threw them into his mouth, chewed them to bits, spat them out, and cried, “Change!” They turned into a thousand, a hundred Great Sages, all wielding gold-banded cudgels, who beat back Prince Nezha and routed the five Heavenly Kings.
The Great Sage, victorious, withdrew his hairs and hurried back to the cave; and there at the head of the Iron-Plank Bridge the four Generals, leading the host, knelt in welcome — and the whole company first wept three great choking sobs, then laughed three great roaring laughs.
“You see me and both weep and laugh,” said the Great Sage. “Why is that?”
“This morning, when we led the host of generals to fight the Heavenly Kings, the kings of the seventy-two caves and the One-Horned Demon King were all taken captive by the gods, and we escaped with our lives — that is why we wept. And now, seeing the Great Sage come back victorious and unharmed, that is why we laugh.”
“Victory and defeat are the soldier's common lot,” said the Great Sage. “The ancients said: kill ten thousand of the enemy, and lose three thousand of your own. Besides, the captains taken were tigers, leopards, wolves and vermin, badgers, river-deer, foxes and raccoon-dogs and the like — not one of my own kind was hurt, so why fret? Though I drove them off with a body-dividing spell, they mean to camp still at the foot of our mountain. Let us keep close guard, eat a good meal, sleep with easy hearts, and nourish our spirits. At daybreak you shall see me work a great magic, seize these celestial generals, and avenge you all.”
The four Generals and the monkeys drank a few bowls of coconut wine, and slept with easy hearts — of which no more.
The Four Great Heavenly Kings withdrew their troops and broke off the battle, and each reported his merits: some had taken tigers and leopards, some had taken lions and elephants, some had taken wolves, vermin, foxes and raccoon-dogs. But not a single monkey-spirit had been caught.
At that time they pitched their camp anew, set up the great stockade, feasted the generals who had earned merit, gave their orders to the troops of the sky-net and earth-snare, and each, ringing bell and calling watchword, beleaguered the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, awaiting the great battle of the morrow. Every man had his orders, and at every post they kept strict guard. And this was the way of it:
The monster-monkey, making havoc, has shaken Heaven and Earth; they spread the net and stretch the snare, and watch by day and night.
How he was dealt with after daybreak — listen to the telling in the next chapter.