But let us leave the heavenly soldiers ringed about the mountain, and the Great Sage to his rest.
Our tale now tells of the Bodhisattva Guanshiyin of Potalaka Mountain in the Southern Sea — Great in Mercy, Great in Compassion, who rescues from suffering and from calamity, the Numinous and Responsive One. Ever since the Queen Mother invited her to the Grand Festival of Immortal Peaches she had been going up with her chief disciple, the pilgrim Huiyan, to the jewelled towers beside the Jasper Pool; and there they found the place desolate and forlorn, the banquet tables in wrecked disarray. A few celestial immortals were on hand, but none had taken their seats. They stood about in a confused babble of talk.
When the Bodhisattva had greeted them, they recounted to her in full what had passed.
“Since there is no festival,” she said, “and no cups are being passed, you may all come with this humble cleric to see the Jade Emperor.”
The immortals followed her gladly. Arriving before the Hall of Communicating Brightness, they found the Four Grand Preceptors, the Barefoot Immortal and others already assembled, who came forward to greet her and told her at once how the Jade Emperor, in his vexation, had marshalled heavenly troops to seize the fiend, and how they had not yet come back in victory.
“I wish to see the Jade Emperor,” said the Bodhisattva. “Trouble yourselves to announce me.”
The Preceptor Qiu Hongji went straightway into the Treasure Hall of Divine Mists, made his report, and she was summoned in. At that hour the Most High Lord Lao was seated above, and the Queen Mother behind.
The Bodhisattva led the company inside. Her courtesies to the Jade Emperor completed, she greeted Lord Lao and the Queen Mother as well, and all took their seats.
“How fared the Grand Festival of Immortal Peaches?” she asked.
“Every year the feast is held in joy and gladness,” said the Jade Emperor, “but this year it was thrown into chaos by the fiendish monkey. The invitations went out quite in vain.”
“And where does this fiendish monkey come from?” said the Bodhisattva.
“The fiendish monkey was hatched from a stone egg on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, in the Land of Aolai, in the Eastern Pūrvavideha Continent,” said the Jade Emperor. “At his birth his eyes flashed a golden light that shot up to the mansion of the Dipper. At first We paid it no mind; but then he became a spirit, subduing dragons and taming tigers, and struck his own name from the registers of death. At that the Dragon Kings and King Yama submitted memorials against him.
“We wished to have him seized, but the Star of Chang'geng submitted, saying, 'Among the Three Realms, any creature possessed of nine apertures may attain immortality.' So We extended instruction and nurtured his worth: We summoned him to the upper realm and appointed him an officer of the Imperial Stables — a Bimawen. But the fellow, resenting the lowliness of the post, rose in revolt against the Heavenly Palace. We at once dispatched Heavenly King Li and Prince Nezha to subdue him; then We sent down a decree of pardon to mollify him, summoned him back to the upper realm, and enfeoffed him as Great Sage Equal to Heaven — though it was a rank with title but no stipend.
“Having no duties to occupy him, he roamed east and idled west. Fearing he might breed fresh trouble, We then set him to oversee the Garden of Immortal Peaches. But he kept no rule of law: the great peaches on the oldest trees he stole and devoured, every one. And when the feast was arranged, being an officer without stipend, he was not among those invited. So he laid a scheme and gulled the Barefoot Immortal, changed himself into that Immortal's likeness to enter the feast, stole and ate up all the immortal viands and wine, filched Lord Lao's elixir of immortality, made off with a quantity of the imperial liquor besides, and carried it all back to share in revelry with the monkeys of his own mountain.
“For all this Our heart is sorely vexed, and so We have marshalled a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers, with Heaven-and-Earth nets, to take him. This whole day no report has come back, and We do not know how the battle has gone.”
When the Bodhisattva had heard this, she at once gave her orders to the pilgrim Huiyan.
“Go quickly down from the Heavenly Palace to the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit,” she said, “and find out how the campaign stands. If you meet him in battle, you may lend a hand and do your part; but be sure to bring back the truth of it.”
The pilgrim Huiyan straightened his robes, took up an iron rod, mounted his cloud, left the palace gates and went straight to the foot of the mountain. There he saw the Heaven-and-Earth nets ranged dense and layer on layer, each camp gate ringing its bells and calling its watchwords, the mountain ringed so tight that not a drop of water could leak through.
Huiyan halted and called out. “You heavenly soldiers at the camp gate — I trouble you to pass the word. I am Mokṣa, second prince of Heavenly King Li; Huiyan, chief disciple of Guanyin of the Southern Sea; and I come expressly to learn how the campaign fares.”
The Five-Peaks divine soldiers of the camp relayed it within the headquarters gate, and presently the Star-Lords Xu the Rat, Mao the Cock, Xing the Horse and Fang the Hare carried the word to the central command tent. Heavenly King Li sent down his command-flag, ordered the Heaven-and-Earth nets opened, and let him through.
By now the east was just growing light. Huiyan followed the flag inside, and on seeing the Four Heavenly Kings and Heavenly King Li made his bows.
“My boy,” said Heavenly King Li when the bows were done, “from what quarter do you come?”
“Your foolish son attended the Peach Festival with the Bodhisattva,” said Huiyan. “Finding the grand feast desolate and the Jasper Pool forlorn, she led the immortals and your son to see the Jade Emperor. The Jade Emperor related in full how my royal father and the rest had gone down to subdue the fiendish monkey, and how — no report having come in a whole day — the outcome was unknown; and so the Bodhisattva ordered your son here to learn the truth of it.”
“Yesterday we came here and pitched camp,” said Heavenly King Li, “and ordered the Nine Luminary Stars to give challenge; but the creature worked his magic so mightily that the Nine Luminaries were all routed and fled back. Then we led the troops in person, and the fellow drew up his battle-lines as well. Our hundred thousand heavenly soldiers fought him in a melee till nightfall, when he used a body-dividing trick and broke off the fight. And when we mustered the troops and took stock, we had caught only the likes of wolves and tigers, leopards and vermin — not so much as half a single monkey-fiend. Today we have not yet given battle.”
Before he had finished speaking, someone came reporting at the headquarters gate. “The Great Sage is leading a band of monkey-spirits and challenging us outside!”
As the Four Heavenly Kings, Heavenly King Li and the prince were debating whether to send out troops, Mokṣa spoke up. “Father, your son received the Bodhisattva's charge to come down and gather news, and she said that, should it come to a fight, I might lend a hand. Now this unworthy one begs to go and see what sort of Great Sage he is.”
“My boy,” said the Heavenly King, “you have followed the Bodhisattva in her cultivation these several years, so you must have gained some powers; but be sure to take care.”
Fine prince that he was, he brandished the iron rod two-handed, hitched up his embroidered robe, leapt out the headquarters gate and cried aloud, “Which of you is the Great Sage Equal to Heaven?”
The Great Sage levelled his As-You-Will cudgel. “Old Sun is the one,” he answered. “And who are you, that you make so bold to ask?”
“I am Mokṣa, second prince of Heavenly King Li,” said Mokṣa. “I now serve before the Bodhisattva Guanyin's throne as a disciple and protector of the Teaching, my dharma-name being Huiyan.”
“If you are not at your cultivation in the Southern Sea,” said the Great Sage, “what do you come here to see me for?”
“My master sent me to spy out the campaign,” said Mokṣa, “and seeing you rampage so, I have come on purpose to seize you.”
“Since you dare to talk so big,” said the Great Sage, “don't run off — take this cudgel of Old Sun's!”
Mokṣa was not the least afraid, and used his iron rod to meet the blow head-on. There the two of them stood, half-way up the mountain, outside the headquarters gate; and what a fine fight it was:
Rod though met rod, the iron of each was different; weapon though crossed weapon, the men were not the same.
The one, a Free Immortal of the Grand Monad, styled the Great Sage; the other, Guanyin's disciple, a true Dragon of the Primal Origin.
The solid iron rod was forged with a thousand hammer-blows, with the Six Ding and Six Jia plying their divine art;
the As-You-Will cudgel was the Stiller of the Heavenly River, the Sea-Quelling Divine Treasure, mighty in magic power.
When the two met, they were true match for each other, and back and forth their fighting moves were truly without end.
This one's back-handed rod was savage past all counting, looping the waist, threading through, swift as the wind;
that one's clamping spear-staff let nothing through, warding left and blocking right — how could either give way?
On that side the banners flashed and flashed, on this side the alligator-drums went boom and boom.
Ten thousand heavenly generals ringed them round and round, a whole cave of monkey-fiends clustered thick and close.
Strange mists and grieving clouds spread over the earth's domain, wolf-smoke and baleful vapour shot up to the Heavenly Palace.
Yesterday's melee was bearable still, today's contest was fiercer yet again.
Worthy of wonder, the Monkey King's true prowess — once more Mokṣa was beaten, and fled again for his life.
The Great Sage and Huiyan fought some fifty or sixty rounds, until Huiyan's arms grew sore and numb and he could fight no more: with a feint of his rod he broke off and fled the field. The Great Sage too called in his monkey troops and made camp outside his cave gate.
Outside the Heavenly King's camp gate, soldiers great and small received the prince, opened a way for him and let him straight through the headquarters gate; and there, before the Four Heavenly Kings, Li the Pagoda-Bearer and Nezha, panting and still out of breath, he gasped, “What a Great Sage, what a Great Sage! Truly his powers are vast. Your son could not best him, and has come back beaten again!”
Seeing this, Heavenly King Li took fright, and at once ordered a memorial written asking for aid, dispatching the Mighty-Strength Demon King together with Prince Mokṣa to report it in Heaven. The two dared not linger. They burst out through the Heaven-and-Earth nets and rose on auspicious mists and propitious clouds, and in a moment reached the foot of the Hall of Communicating Brightness, saw the Four Grand Preceptors, were led to the Treasure Hall of Divine Mists, and presented the memorial.
Huiyan then saw the Bodhisattva and made his obeisance.
“How went your reconnaissance?” said the Bodhisattva.
“When first I received your command and reached the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit,” said Huiyan, “I had the gate of the Heaven-and-Earth nets opened, saw my father, and conveyed the purport of your charge. My royal father said, 'Yesterday we fought the Monkey King a bout, and caught only the likes of his tigers, leopards, lions and elephants — we did not take so much as one monkey-spirit.' While we were still speaking, he came demanding battle again; so your disciple took up the iron rod and fought him fifty or sixty rounds, but could not prevail, and fled back to camp defeated. For this reason my father dispatched the Mighty-Strength Demon King with your disciple to the upper realm to beg for help.”
The Bodhisattva bowed her head and pondered.
Now the Jade Emperor opened the memorial, and seeing in it a plea for aid, smiled.
“What an insufferable monkey-spirit!” he said. “How great can his powers be, that he dares hold off a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers! And now Heavenly King Li comes asking for help again — but which troops am I to send to his aid?”
Before he had finished speaking, Guanyin pressed her palms together and submitted, “Set Your Majesty's mind at ease. This humble cleric recommends a certain divinity who can capture the monkey.”
“And what divinity do you recommend?” said the Jade Emperor.
“It is Your Majesty's own nephew,” said the Bodhisattva, “the Sage-Manifesting True Lord Erlang, who now dwells at the mouth of the Guan River in Guanzhou and enjoys the incense-offerings of the world below. In days past he slew six fiends by main force, and he has besides the Brothers of Mei Mountain and the twelve hundred plant-headed gods of his command: vast indeed are his powers. Only, he answers a command but not a summons; so Your Majesty should send down an order mobilizing his troops, bidding him lend his aid, and the monkey may then be taken.”
Hearing this, the Jade Emperor at once issued the troop-mobilizing order, and dispatched the Mighty-Strength Demon King to carry it.
The Demon King received the order, mounted his cloud at once and went straight to Guanjiangkou; in less than half an hour he arrived at the True Lord's temple, where the gate-keeping demon-warden relayed word within: “A heavenly envoy is outside, come bearing an edict.”
Erlang at once went out with his brothers to receive it, burned incense, and opened it to read. The edict ran:
“The fiendish monkey of the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, has risen in revolt: for in the palace he stole peaches, stole wine and stole elixir, and threw the Festival of Immortal Peaches into chaos; he has been met with a hundred thousand heavenly soldiers and eighteen frames of Heaven-and-Earth nets, the mountain ringed and put under siege, yet without victory. We now specially mobilize Our worthy nephew, together with his sworn brothers, to proceed at once to the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit and lend aid in exterminating him. Upon success, high promotion and rich reward shall follow.”
Greatly pleased, the True Lord said, “Let the heavenly envoy return. I shall go straightway to draw my blade in aid.” The Demon King went back to make his report, of which no more need be said.
The True Lord then summoned his six brothers of Mei Mountain — the four Marshals Kang, Zhang, Yao and Li, and the two Generals Guo Shen and Zhi Jian — and gathering them before his hall, said, “Just now the Jade Emperor has commanded us to go to the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit to subdue the fiendish monkey. Come, let us be off together!”
The brothers were all glad to go. At once they mustered their own divine troops, loosed the hawks and led the hounds, set their crossbows and drew their bows; and riding a wild wind they crossed the Eastern Ocean in an instant and reached the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit. Seeing the Heaven-and-Earth nets dense and layer upon layer, so that they could not press forward, Erlang called out:
“You divine generals of the Heaven-and-Earth nets, hear me. I am the Sage-Manifesting True Lord Erlang, sent by command of the Jade Emperor to capture the fiendish monkey. Open your camp gate quickly and let us pass.”
In a moment the gods passed the word inward, layer by layer, and the Four Heavenly Kings and Heavenly King Li all came out of the headquarters gate to receive him. When the greetings were done and he asked how the fighting had gone, the Heavenly King laid out the foregoing matters in full.
The True Lord laughed. “Since I, the Lesser Sage, have come, I must contend with him in a match of transformations. My lords, do not curtain the tops of the Heaven-and-Earth nets — keep only the four sides close-drawn, and leave the fighting to me. If I lose to him, you need not help: I have my brothers to support me. And if I beat him, you need not bind him either: I have my brothers to do that too. I ask only that the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King work the demon-revealing mirror for me, and stand watch in the sky. For fear that he break and flee elsewhere, you must light him up clearly for me, and not let him get away.”
The Heavenly Kings took up the four quarters, and the heavenly soldiers ranged themselves in their ranks accordingly. The True Lord then led out the four Marshals and two Generals — with himself, seven brothers all told — and marched from camp to give challenge, bidding his generals hold the camp fast and gather in all the hawks and hounds. The plant-headed gods received their orders.
The True Lord came right up to the Water-Curtain Cave, and saw the troop of monkeys drawn up neat and trim in a Coiling-Dragon battle array. In the center of their ranks stood a banner, inscribed with the four words Great Sage Equal to Heaven.
“That insolent fiend,” said the True Lord. “How does he merit a rank Equal to Heaven?”
“Spare your wonder,” said his six Mei Mountain brothers. “Let us cry the challenge and have at him!”
A little monkey at the camp mouth, seeing the True Lord, ran off quickly to carry the word.
The Monkey King at once drew his gold-banded cudgel, straightened his golden armor, stepped into his cloud-walking shoes, set his purple-gold coronet firm and sprang out the camp gate; and opening his eyes wide to look, he saw that the True Lord's features were indeed striking, his array elegant withal. Truly it was so:
His bearing pure and comely, his face nobly broad; his two ears hung to his shoulders, and his eyes shone with light.
On his head a three-peaked flying-phoenix cap, on his body a robe of pale goose-yellow.
Gold-threaded boots over coiling-dragon hose, a jade belt of medallion-flowers, adorned with the Eight Treasures.
At his waist a pellet-bow curved like the new moon, in his hand the three-pointed, double-edged spear.
With his axe he once cleft Peach Mountain to save his mother, with his pellets he downed the paired phoenixes of Chanluo.
By main strength he slew the Eight Monsters, his fame spreading far, and in sworn brotherhood bound the company of the Seven Sages of Mei Mountain.
High-hearted, he would not own his kinship to the heavenly house; proud by nature, he took godhood and dwelt by the Guan River.
The Resplendent-Kindness Sage of Chicheng, numinous and efficacious, boundless in his manifestations — he is styled Erlang.
The Great Sage looked, then grinning broadly raised his gold-banded cudgel and cried aloud, “What petty officer are you, that you make so bold as to challenge me here?”
“You wretch,” shouted the True Lord, “have you eyes but no pupils? Do you not know me? I am the Jade Emperor's nephew, the Erlang invested by decree as King of Resplendent Kindness, Numinous and Manifest. Now by command from on high I have come to seize you — you Bimawen ape who rebelled against the Heavenly Palace — and still you don't know whether you're alive or dead!”
“I recall that years ago the Jade Emperor's younger sister longed for the mortal world and went down to it,” said the Great Sage, “and mated with one Lord Yang, and bore a son: the one who took an axe and cleft Peach Mountain. Is that you? I'd give you a good cursing, but as it happens there's no real grudge between us; and I'd give you a whack of my cudgel, but it would be a pity about your life. You young squire, you'd best hurry back and call out your Four Heavenly Kings instead.”
Hearing this, the True Lord flew into a rage. “Brazen ape! No more of your insolence — taste my blade!”
The Great Sage dodged aside, swiftly raised his gold-banded cudgel, and struck back hand to hand. What a fine slaughter the two of them made:
The Resplendent-Kindness god Erlang, and Sun, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.
This one, the high-hearted, foe-scorning Handsome Monkey King; that one, the stern-faced subduer, a very roof-tree of strength.
The two, meeting for the first time, each was full of fighting zest.
Never before had they gauged each other's shallows and depths; only today did they learn each other's light and heavy.
The iron cudgel vied with a flying dragon, the divine blade was like a dancing phoenix.
Warding to the left, attacking to the right, meeting in front, glinting behind.
On this side the Six Brothers of Mei Mountain lent their fierce support, on that side the four Generals Ma and Liu passed the battle-orders.
Waving flags and beating drums, each side of one mind; shouting war-cries and striking gongs, all swelling the fray.
The two keen blades each watched for an opening, thrust answering thrust, with never a hair's gap between.
The gold-banded cudgel, a treasure from the sea, by its transformations and soaring flight could win the day.
Were a body but a moment slow, his life would be forfeit; let there be the least misstep, and it spells ruin.
The True Lord and the Great Sage fought more than three hundred rounds, with no telling who would win. Then the True Lord roused his divine might, shook himself and transformed, growing ten thousand zhàng tall, his two hands hoisting the three-pointed, double-edged blade — just like the topmost crag of Mount Hua, green-faced, fanged, with hair of vermilion red, ferocious — and aimed a chop straight at the Great Sage's head. The Great Sage too worked his magic, transforming to a body just like Erlang's, his face and features the same, and hoisting his As-You-Will gold-banded cudgel, which became the very Sky-Propping Pillar atop the Kunlun range; and with it he held off the god Erlang.
So terrified were the Marshals Ma and Liu that they trembled and could not wave their banners; the Generals Beng and Ba quailed so that they could not wield their blades. On this side, Kang, Zhang, Yao, Li, Guo Shen and Zhi Jian passed the order, set loose the plant-headed gods, and outside the Water-Curtain Cave loosed the hawks and hounds, set their crossbows and drew their bows, and fell on all together. Pitiably, the fiendish monkeys' four stalwart commanders were scattered, and two or three thousand of the magic creatures were taken. Those monkeys flung down halberds and cast off armor, dropped swords and threw away spears — some running, some screaming, some scrambling up the mountain, some bolting back into the cave. They were like roosting birds startled by a night-owl, scattered across the sky like a spray of stars. The brothers had won the day, of which no more need be said.
Now while the True Lord and the Great Sage, in their Heaven-and-Earth magnitude, were locked in combat, the Great Sage suddenly saw the fiendish monkeys of his own camp scattering in panic; and feeling his own heart grow flustered, he withdrew his magic form, snatched up his cudgel and broke off to flee.
Seeing him break and run, the True Lord strode after him, calling, “Where do you think you're going? Surrender now, and your life will be spared!”
The Great Sage had no heart for more fighting and simply ran for it. As he neared the cave mouth he ran square into the four Marshals Kang, Zhang, Yao and Li and the two Generals Guo Shen and Zhi Jian, who together led their troops to block him, shouting, “Brazen ape! Where do you run?”
Thrown into a panic, the Great Sage pinched his gold-banded cudgel down to an embroidery needle and tucked it into his ear; then with a shake of his body he transformed into a sparrow, and perched, still, on the tip of a treetop. The six brothers, all in a fluster, searched high and low and could not find him, and cried out together, “The monkey-fiend's got away! The monkey-fiend's got away!”
Just as they were clamoring, the True Lord arrived. “Brothers,” he asked, “where did you chase him to, that you lost him?”
“We had him surrounded right here,” said the gods, “and then he vanished.”
Erlang opened wide his phoenix eyes and looked, and saw that the Great Sage had turned into a sparrow, perched on the tree. At once he withdrew his magic form, set aside his divine blade and unslung his pellet-bow; then with a shake of his body he transformed into a sparrowhawk, spread his wings and flew at the sparrow to strike.
Seeing this, the Great Sage went up with a whir of wings and turned into a great cormorant, soaring into the sky. Seeing this, Erlang quickly shook his feathers, transformed into a great sea-crane, and bored up into the clouds to snap at him. The Great Sage then dropped his body down, into a mountain stream, turned into a fish and plunged into the water.
Erlang pursued to the stream's edge, but found no trace of him. “This ape must have gone into the water,” he thought. “Surely he's turned into some fish or shrimp. Let me change again and catch him.” Sure enough he transformed — into an osprey — and drifted on the water's surface downstream, waiting a while.
The Great Sage, now a fish, was swimming with the current when all at once he spotted a bird of prey above him:
like a blue sparrowhawk, but its feathers weren't blue;
like an egret, but it had no crest atop its head;
like an old stork, but its legs again weren't red.
“This must be Erlang,” he thought, “transformed and lying in wait for me!” He turned his head sharply, made a splash, and fled.
Erlang saw it. “Look at that fish that made the splash,” he said, and ran his eye over it:
like a carp, but its tail isn't red;
like a mandarin-fish, but it shows no mottled scales;
like a snakehead, but there are no stars on its head;
like a bream, but no spines on its gills.
“Why would it turn back the moment it saw me? It must be that monkey, transformed.”
He swooped down and, with a flick, stabbed at it with his beak. The Great Sage shot up out of the water, transformed, became a water-snake, swam to the bank and slipped into the grass. Erlang, having failed to snap him up, saw amid the splashing a snake dart out, and knew it was the Great Sage. Quickly he turned and transformed into a grey crane with a red-embroidered crown, thrusting out a long beak like a pair of sharp-tipped iron pincers, and came straight to eat the water-snake.
The water-snake gave a wriggle and turned into a bustard, and stood there dull and stupid on a smartweed sandbar. Erlang saw that he had turned into something base — the bustard being the most base and licentious of birds, mating indiscriminately with phoenix, simurgh, hawk or crow alike — and so would not go near it. He resumed his true form, walked over, took up his pellet-bow, drew it full, and with a single pellet knocked the bustard sprawling.
The Great Sage, seizing the chance, rolled down the cliffside, crouched there and transformed again — into a little shrine of the Local God. He opened his mouth wide for the temple gate; his teeth turned into the door-leaves, his tongue into the bodhisattva within, his eyes into the window-lattices. Only his tail was awkward to dispose of, so he stuck it up behind and made it into a flagpole.
The True Lord pursued to the foot of the cliff, but saw no fallen bustard — only a little temple. Quickly he opened his phoenix eyes, looked closely, saw the flagpole standing behind, and laughed.
“It's that ape! He's at it again, trying to fool me. I've seen temples in my time, but never one with a flagpole stuck up behind it. This beast is certainly up to his tricks. If he lures me inside, he'll snap his jaws shut on me in one bite. Why would I go in? Let me draw back my fist, smash the window-lattices first, then kick in the door-leaves.”
The Great Sage heard this and was alarmed. “Vicious! Vicious!” he thought. “The door-leaves are my teeth, the window-lattices are my eyes. If he breaks my teeth and smashes my eyes, what then?”
With a tiger-leap — pop! — he sprang up and vanished once more into the sky.
The True Lord chased back and forth in confusion, when the four Marshals and two Generals all came crowding up. “Elder brother,” they asked, “have you caught the Great Sage?”
The True Lord laughed. “That monkey just turned himself into a temple to fool me. Just as I was about to smash his window-lattices and kick in his door-leaves, he gave a leap and vanished without a trace again. How strange, how strange!”
All were astonished, and looked all around, but there was no sign of him anywhere.
“Brothers,” said the True Lord, “keep watch and patrol here, while I go up to look for him.”
Quickly he sprang up on a cloud and rose into mid-air, where he saw Heavenly King Li holding the Demon-Revealing Mirror aloft, with Nezha standing at the edge of the clouds.
“Heavenly King,” he said, “have you seen the Monkey King?”
“He hasn't come up here,” said the Heavenly King. “I've got him fixed in the mirror right now.”
The True Lord finished telling of the contest of transformations, the working of magic powers and the capture of the monkey horde, and then said, “He turned into a temple, and just as I was about to strike, he got away.”
Hearing this, Heavenly King Li swept the Demon-Revealing Mirror around in all four directions, and laughed aloud. “True Lord, go quickly, go quickly! That monkey used a body-concealing spell, slipped out of the encirclement, and has made for your own Guanjiang Mouth.”
Hearing this, Erlang took up his divine blade and turned back toward Guanjiang Mouth in pursuit.
Now the Great Sage had already reached Guanjiang Mouth, where he shook himself, transformed into the very likeness of Lord Erlang, brought down his cloud and walked straight into the temple. The ghost-judges could not tell the difference, and one by one kowtowed in welcome. Seated in the middle, he reviewed the offerings: the three sacrifices Li Hu had pledged in thanks, the blessing Zhang Long had vowed, the petition Zhao Jia had made for a son, the prayer for recovery from illness submitted by Qian Bing.
Just as he was looking them over, someone reported, “Another Lordship has arrived!” The ghost-judges hurried to look, and every one of them was alarmed.
But the True Lord only asked, “Has some so-called Great Sage Equal to Heaven just come here?”
“We've seen no Great Sage,” said the ghost-judges. “There's only a Lordship inside, going over the accounts.”
The True Lord burst in; and the Great Sage, seeing him, resumed his true form. “No need to shout, my lord,” he said. “This temple has changed its name to Sun.”
The True Lord at once raised his three-pointed, double-edged blade and slashed straight at his face. The Monkey King used a dodging move and slipped past the divine blade, whipped out the embroidery needle, gave it a shake until it was as thick as a bowl, rushed forward and struck back face to face. The two of them, shouting and brawling, fought out the temple gate, half in mist and half in cloud, fighting as they went, and battled all the way back to Flower-Fruit Mountain. This threw the Four Heavenly Kings and the rest into alarm, and they tightened their guard all the more; and the Marshals Kang and Zhang and the others met the True Lord, and joining their strength, surrounded the Handsome Monkey King — of which no more for now.
The tale now tells how the Mighty-Strength Ghost King, having summoned the True Lord and his six brothers to lead troops and seize the fiend, returned to the upper realm to report. The Jade Emperor, with the Bodhisattva Guanyin, the Queen Mother and the assembled immortal ministers, were conversing in the Hall of Divine Mists.
“Since Erlang has gone off to battle,” they said, “a whole day has passed and still no report has come back.”
Guanyin pressed her palms together. “I beg Your Majesty to come with the Patriarch of the Way beyond the South Heaven Gate, to go and see for ourselves how matters truly stand.”
“What you say is reasonable,” said the Jade Emperor.
At once the imperial procession set out, and together with the Patriarch, Guanyin, the Queen Mother and the immortal ministers, came to the South Heaven Gate. Heavenly soldiers and strongmen were already there to receive them, and opened the gate for a distant view. They saw the heavenly troops spreading their nets and hemming in all four sides; Heavenly King Li and Nezha holding the Demon-Revealing Mirror aloft, standing in the air; and the True Lord encircling the Great Sage in the middle, all locked in furious combat.
The Bodhisattva opened her mouth and said to Lord Lao, “How is this Erlang I recommended? He has real divine power, and has hemmed the Great Sage in; only he hasn't yet managed the capture. I'll lend him a hand now, and he'll surely take him.”
“What weapon will the Bodhisattva use?” asked Lord Lao. “How will you help him?”
“I'll throw down that pure vase with its willow-sprig and strike the monkey on the head,” said the Bodhisattva. “Even if it can't kill him, it'll give him a fall, so the young sage Erlang can take him.”
“That vase of yours is porcelain,” said Lord Lao. “Well and good if it strikes him; but if it misses his head, or hits his iron cudgel, won't it just shatter? Don't make a move just yet. Let me, old Lao, lend him the hand.”
“And what weapon do you have?” asked the Bodhisattva.
“I have, I have, I have,” said Lord Lao. He pushed up his sleeve, took a bangle off his left upper arm, and said, “This weapon was forged of fine kun-steel, transmuted by my reverted elixir, nurtured to a body full of numinous force; it can transform at will, is proof against water and fire, and can lasso anything. It is called the Diamond Jade-Cutter, or else the Diamond Snare. In years past, when I passed the Hangu Pass and converted the barbarians into Buddhas, I owed a great deal to it. It's the best thing for self-defense at any hour. Let me throw it down and give him a knock.”
As he finished speaking he flung it down from the Heaven Gate; and whirling and spinning, it dropped straight into the camp at Flower-Fruit Mountain and came down exactly on the Monkey King's head. The Monkey King, intent only on his hard fight with the Seven Sages, never knew the weapon was falling from the sky. It struck him square on the crown of his head, and unable to keep his feet he took a tumble, scrambled up and ran; and Lord Erlang's slender hound caught up with him, bit him on the calf, and dragged him down for another fall.
Sprawled on the ground, he cursed. “You wretched cur! Instead of pestering your own master, you come and bite old Sun!”
He twisted about but could not get up, and the Seven Sages swarmed in and pinned him down. They bound him with ropes and ran a hooked blade through his shoulder-bones, so that he could transform no more.
Lord Lao retrieved his Diamond Bangle and invited the Jade Emperor, Guanyin, the Queen Mother and the assembled immortals all to return to the Hall of Divine Mists. Down below, the Four Heavenly Kings and Heavenly King Li and the other gods all gathered in their troops and struck camp, then came forward to congratulate the young sage.
“This is the young sage's achievement!” they all said.
“This was the Celestial Honored One's great fortune and the gods' authority,” said the young sage. “What achievement is mine?”
“Elder brother, no need for more talk,” said Kang, Zhang, Yao and Li. “Let's haul this wretch up to the Jade Emperor and ask for a ruling on what's to be done with him.”
“Good brothers,” said the True Lord, “you have not yet received the celestial register, and so may not appear before the Jade Emperor in person. Have the armored celestial soldiers keep him under guard, while I go up with the Heavenly King and the others to report back. You lead the men in searching the mountain here, and once it's swept clean, return to Guankou. Wait till I've claimed the reward and secured the credit, and I'll come back and we'll celebrate together.”
The four Marshals and two Generals agreed and assented as told. The True Lord and his company then mounted the clouds, sang songs of triumph and ascended victorious to Heaven; and before long they arrived outside the Hall of Communicating Brightness.
“The Four Heavenly Kings and the rest have captured the demon ape, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven,” the Celestial Masters announced, “and have come here to await your command.”
The Jade Emperor issued his decree, ordering the Mighty-Strength Ghost King and the celestial troops to take him to the Demon-Beheading Terrace and hack his corpse to pieces. Ah! Truly it was:
For his deceits he now meets the bitterness of law and punishment; his hero's high spirit must, for the time, come to an end.
After all this, there is no telling what would become of the Monkey King's life — so listen to the next chapter for the telling.
A flagpole behind the temple. The most famous minute in the chapter turns on a point of architecture. Cornered, knocked sprawling and out of clever animals, the monkey rolls down a cliff and becomes a 土地廟, a shrine of the local earth-god — the humblest building in Chinese religion, a stone box at the edge of a village that nobody looks at twice. He does not make something that resembles a temple. He becomes one, part by part: mouth for the gate, teeth for the doors, tongue for the image inside, eyes for the window-lattices. It is also an ambush, because the gate is his open mouth and he means Erlang to walk into it. What gives him away is the tail. There was nowhere to put it, so it went up behind as a 旗竿, a flagpole — and a flagpole belongs in front of a shrine, never round the back. No magic fails here at all. Erlang beats him on planning permission. Then comes the reversal that makes the scene more than a gag: rather than step into the mouth, he announces that he will smash the windows and kick in the doors — which are the monkey's eyes and teeth — and the monkey is crouching inside his own trap listening to it.
The god who answers a command but not a summons. Guanyin's entire contribution to the war is one sentence of personnel advice, and it is the sharpest character sketch in the chapter: 聽調不聽宣, he answers a command but not a summons. The distinction is bureaucratic and exact. 調 is an order mobilising troops; 宣 is a summons to appear at court. Erlang will fight Heaven's war and will not be sent for, so the Jade Emperor has to file the paperwork as a call-up rather than an invitation. This is the god as outside contractor. He is the Emperor's own nephew and does not trade on it; he lives among mortals at the mouth of the Guan River, drawing incense from a temple of his own; he keeps a private staff of six sworn brothers and twelve hundred rustic gods, and he takes the job on condition that nobody helps him do it. And the reason he succeeds where a hundred thousand regulars failed is precisely that he is not one of them. It takes an irregular to catch an irregular.
Bimawen, and a rank with no salary. Everything in this chapter comes out of a job title. The Jade Emperor's long recital is really a personnel file, and it records two attempts to solve the monkey by hiring him. First 弼馬溫, Bimawen, roughly Keeper of the Horses — and the Directorate of the Imperial Stud was a real office of the Ming palace, so the joke landed for the first readers about the way Assistant Deputy Under-Secretary lands now. He walked out the moment he learned it was the lowest rank in Heaven. Then 齊天大聖, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, a magnificent title paired with 有官無祿, office without emolument: rank, no pay, no duties. Anyone who has ever been promoted sideways will recognise the manoeuvre. And it is the sinecure that detonates the book, because when the guest list for the peach banquet was drawn up by rank, an officer without a stipend did not make it. Two chapters and one riot later, Erlang still knows that Bimawen is the thing to say.
Ten thousand zhàng, and a raid while nobody is looking. The chapter gives each of its two duels a piece of embedded verse, and marks the escalation between them with a single character: the fight with Mokṣa is a 好鬥, a fine bout, and the fight with Erlang is a 好殺, a fine slaughter. The verse also quietly hands 心高, the high heart, from Erlang's portrait to the monkey a few pages later — these two are the same kind of creature, and the poetry says so before the plot does. When even the slaughter deadlocks after three hundred rounds, both men go enormous: 萬丈, ten thousand zhàng, a zhàng being roughly ten Chinese feet, so the figure means simply past measuring. Erlang becomes a crag off Mount Hua; the monkey's cudgel becomes the pillar that holds up the sky. And while the two colossi stand locked and magnificent, the war is decided about a foot off the ground, where Erlang's six brothers — not busy being enormous — slip the dogs and go through the undefended monkey camp. The chapter's opinion of grandeur could not be plainer. The monkey loses his army because he was winning the duel.
A duel fought through the food chain. Once the shapes start changing, the chase runs on one rule applied without a single exception: whatever the monkey becomes, Erlang becomes the thing that eats it. Sparrow, sparrowhawk. Cormorant climbing for open air, sea-crane climbing higher to take it from above. Fish, osprey. Water-snake, and a grey crane whose beak the text stops to compare to a pair of iron pincers. It is a contest not of power but of natural history, and its two best moments are failures of nerve rather than of magic. Each spots the other by behaviour and not by looks — the fish bolts when no fish would, the bird hovers where no bird has business hovering — and both run through a countryman's checklist of everything the thing in front of them is not. Then the monkey, out of clever animals, picks a stupid one, and the storyteller pauses to tell us at some length what a disgraceful bird a bustard is. That is the blunder. Erlang will not become anything so vile, which means that for the first time he does not have to become anything at all. He stands there in his own body and shoots it.
The temple has changed its name to Sun. The most quoted line in the chapter needs one piece of context to land. Chinese property is spoken of by the surname that holds it, and a temple is the god's house. So when the monkey, sitting on Erlang's altar wearing Erlang's face, informs the real Erlang that 廟宇已姓孫了 — this temple now bears the surname 孫 — he is not saying he has redecorated. He is saying the deeds have changed hands. He has spent the previous minute receiving the kowtows of the temple staff and working through the parishioners' paperwork: a thank-offering, a vow, a petition for a son, a prayer over an illness, filed under Li Hu, Zhang Long, Zhao Jia and Qian Bing — names as generic as Tom, Dick and Harry, the last two counted off like defendants A and B. Hunted across earth and sky by an entire army, he stops to play office. And when the real Erlang arrives and asks whether a Great Sage has come by, the staff answer with perfect honesty that there is only a Lordship inside, doing the accounts.
What actually catches him: a ring and a dog. Notice how little dignity the ending has, and how deliberate that is. After the duel, the chase and a parade of brilliant disguises, the Great Sage is not defeated. He is hit on the head from above, with his back turned, by an old man he never sees, and then brought down by a dog. Guanyin offers first and is talked out of it on entirely practical grounds: her vase is porcelain, and a porcelain vase against an iron cudgel is one vase. Lord Lao's 金鋼琢, the diamond bangle he has been wearing as jewellery the whole chapter, gets a description that reads like a product listing — fireproof, waterproof, shape-shifting, lassos anything. What it does not do is wound. It is a snare, and that is the point: the thing that finally holds the monkey does not hit him harder, it closes around him. The sealing is finished with a hooked blade run through the 琵琶骨, the lute-bones, which is what this book's lore does to a shape-shifter — pin him in one shape and the powers stop. And still, flat on his back with the ropes going on, his complaint is not that he lost. It is that the dog bit the wrong person.
For the time being. The chapter closes on a formal verdict in verse and undercuts it in two characters. His hero's spirit, says the couplet, must come to an end — 等時, for the time being. Everything hangs on that qualifier, and the storyteller's sign-off keeps it hanging: there is no telling what will become of him, so come back tomorrow. What the suspension conceals is that the sentence cannot be carried out. In the next chapter the executioners will find that blades will not cut him, fire will not burn him and lightning will not touch him, and the reason is buried in the Jade Emperor's own recital here — the stolen elixir. Lord Lao, exasperated, will shut him in a furnace for forty-nine days and get back something even harder to kill. The Demon-Beheading Terrace is the false ending. The real one is two chapters away, and it will not be a weapon either: it will be a hand closing over him, which is the bangle's idea again, done by somebody very much bigger.