Journey to the West: Volume 1

By Wu Cheng'en

Journey to the West: Volume 1 introduces readers to the extraordinary world of one of China's greatest literary classics. Covering Chapters 1 through 25, this volume focuses on the origins of the Monkey King, Sun Wukong, and the early events that set the stage for the legendary pilgrimage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Autri Books
• Release date: Sep 21, 2025
• ISBN: 9798349569470

Wu Cheng'en

Wu Cheng'en (ca. 1500-1582) was een Chinese schrijver, dichter en ambtenaar uit de Ming-dynastie, geboren in Huai'an, provincie Jiangsu. Hij was bekend om zijn scherpe humor, humanistische blik en diepgaande kennis van het boeddhisme, taoïsme en confucianisme. Wu studeerde aan de Nanking Rijksacademie en diende later als ambtenaar, maar wijdde zich vooral aan literatuur en satire. Zijn naam leeft voort als auteur van Reis naar het Westen (Xiyouji), een van de vier klassieke romans van de Chinese literatuur, waarin volksverhalen, religieuze allegorie en levendige verbeeldingskracht samenkomen.

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Journey to the West

by Wu Cheng'en

Copyright © 2025 by Autri Books

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ISBN: 979-8-3495-6947-0

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Contents

Chapter 1

The Spiritual Root Conceives; The Great Way Is Born

A poem says:

Before chaos was sundered, heaven and earth were confused;

vast and boundless, unseen by any.

Since Pangu shattered the primeval mist,

from then the clear and the turbid were distinguished.

All living beings rely on supreme benevolence,

all things made manifest turn to goodness.

If you would know the achievement of Creation’s primal work,

you must behold the Tale of Deliverance in the Journey to the West.

It is said that in the reckoning of heaven and earth, one great kalpa consists of 129,600 years. This great kalpa is divided into twelve epochs, namely the twelve earthly branches: Zi, Chou, Yin, Mao, Chen, Si, Wu, Wei, Shen, You, Xu, Hai. Each epoch encompasses 10,800 years. Consider but a single day: at Zi the yang energy arises, at Chou the cock crows; at Yin there is no light, at Mao the sun emerges; at Chen comes the meal after dawn, at Si one lines up for food; at Wu the sun is at the zenith, at Wei it leans westward; at Shen is the time of dusk, at You the sun sets; at Xu twilight falls, at Hai all are at rest. By great reckoning, when the Xu epoch ends, heaven and earth grow dim, and the myriad beings decline. After another 5,400 years, at the start of the Hai epoch, there is utter darkness, with no beings in either realm—this is called chaos. Again after 5,400 years, as Hai nears its end, the pure begins to rise, approaching the Zi epoch, and clarity gradually returns. As Shao Kangjie said: At the winter solstice, halfway through Zi, the heart of heaven does not shift. When the first yang stirs, though myriad things are not yet born, the root of heaven begins.

After another 5,400 years, at the Zi epoch proper, the light and pure rise upwards: there is sun, there is moon, there are stars, there are constellations. Sun, moon, stars, and constellations are called the Four Images. Thus it is said: Heaven opens at Zi. Another 5,400 years pass, as Zi draws to its end and nears Chou, solidity gradually forms. The Book of Changes says: Great indeed is the creative! Vast indeed the receptive! All things draw life therefrom, following heaven in harmony. Then the earth begins to congeal. After another 5,400 years, at the Chou epoch proper, the heavy and turbid sink below: there is water, there is fire, there are mountains, stones, and soil. Water, fire, mountains, stones, and soil are called the Five Forms. Thus it is said: Earth opens at Chou. After another 5,400 years, as Chou ends and Yin begins, the myriad beings are engendered. The calendar says: Heaven’s qi descends, earth’s qi rises; heaven and earth join, and the myriad beings are born. At this point, heaven is clear, earth bright, and yin and yang unite. After another 5,400 years, at the Yin epoch proper, humans are born, beasts are born, birds are born. Truly it is said: Heaven, earth, and man—the Three Powers are set in order. Thus it is said: Man is born at Yin.

From Pangu’s opening of the world, through the Three August Ones ruling, the Five Emperors establishing order, the world was divided into four great continents: the Eastern Continent of Superior Body, the Western Continent of Ox-Herding, the Southern Continent of Jambudvīpa, and the Northern Continent of Kuru. This book concerns itself with the Eastern Continent of Superior Body. Overseas there was a land named Aolai. The kingdom lay near the sea, and in the sea stood a famous mountain called the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit. This mountain was the ancestral vein of the Ten Isles, the originating dragon of the Three Islands, established when clarity and turbidity were first sundered, formed when chaos was divided. A wondrous mountain indeed! There is a rhapsody to bear witness:

Its might subdues the vast waves, its power pacifies the jeweled seas.

Its might subdues the vast waves—tides surge like silver hills, fish swim into caverns;

Its power pacifies the jeweled seas—waves roll like snowy billows, sea-spirits flee the depths.

Where water and fire converge, lofty peaks tower; upon the eastern sea the exalted summit rises.

Scarlet cliffs and strange stones, sheer walls and wondrous peaks.

On scarlet cliffs, phoenixes sing in pairs; before sheer walls, a qilin lies alone.

On summit tops one often hears brocade-fowls cry; in stone caves dragons come and go.

In the woods dwell long-lived deer and immortal foxes; on the trees are numinous birds and dark cranes.

Jade herbs and rare flowers never wither, green pines and cypresses remain ever verdant.

Immortal peaches always bear fruit, tall bamboos ever gather the clouds.

A gully thick with creepers, plains on all sides with fresh grass.

Truly the pillar that upholds the meeting of all rivers, the root of the earth unmoved through kalpas.

At the very summit of this mountain stood a divine stone. The stone was three zhang six chi and five cun high, two zhang four chi in circumference. Three zhang six chi and five cun in height correspond to the 365 degrees of the celestial sphere; two zhang four chi in circumference correspond to the twenty-four solar terms. It had nine apertures and eight holes, corresponding to the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams. No trees shaded it on any side, but orchids and fragrant herbs grew about it.

Since the dawn of time, it had absorbed the essence of heaven and earth, the quintessence of sun and moon. Receiving these influences long, it conceived a numinous intent. Within it nurtured an immortal embryo. One day it suddenly split open, producing a stone egg, round as a ball. Meeting the wind, it transformed into a stone monkey, with all features complete, limbs whole. At once he learned to crawl and walk, bowing to the four quarters. From his eyes shot twin beams of golden light, piercing the Palace of the Dipper. This startled the Most High Great Compassionate Jade Emperor, the Supreme August Sovereign of the Empyrean, seated in the Cloud Palace of the Golden Gate, in the Treasure Hall of Lingxiao, surrounded by assembled immortals. Seeing flames of golden light, he ordered Clairvoyant Eyes and Keen-Eared to open the Southern Heavenly Gate and look. The two generals obeyed, went forth, and indeed saw truly and heard clearly. They soon returned and reported: In obedience to your command, we beheld the place of golden light: in the realm of the small kingdom of Aolai, to the east of the Eastern Continent of Superior Body, on a Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, upon it a divine stone produced an egg, which, meeting the wind, transformed into a stone monkey. He is bowing to the four quarters, with eyes sending golden beams to the Palace of the Dipper. Now he eats and drinks, and the golden light is fading. The Jade Emperor, in benevolent mercy, said: A creature of the lower world, born of the essence of heaven and earth, is no cause for wonder.

The monkey lived in the mountain, able to run and leap, eating herbs and trees, drinking from streams, picking flowers and fruits; befriending wolves and insects, gathering with tigers and leopards, playing with deer, kin to apes; by night lodging under cliffs, by day wandering caves and peaks. Truly: In the mountain there is no reckoning of years; when cold passes, one knows not the age.

One day, when the weather was hot, the troop of monkeys sought shade and played beneath pines. Look at them one by one: climbing trees and grasping branches, plucking flowers and seeking fruits; tossing pebbles, playing games; running in sandpits, building towers; chasing dragonflies, catching butterflies; bowing to Heaven, worshiping Buddhas; pulling creepers, weaving grass; catching lice, biting and picking; grooming fur, cleaning nails. Pushing, pulling, pressing, tugging—frolicking beneath the green pines, washing by clear streams.

After a while of play, the troop went to bathe in a mountain stream. The torrent rushed like rolling melons, splashing high. The ancients said: Birds have bird talk, beasts have beast speech. The monkeys all said: We know not whence this water comes. Today, as we are idle, let us follow it upstream to seek its source, for fun! With a shout, they dragged young and old, calling brothers and sisters, all ran together, climbing upstream, until they reached the source: a waterfall cascading in torrents. Behold:

A white rainbow arches, myriad snowy waves fly.

The sea wind cannot sever it, the river moon still shines upon it.

Cold vapors divide the green peaks, the leftover spray moistens emerald hills.

This tumbling stream, named Waterfall, seems truly a hanging curtain.

The monkeys clapped and praised: Good water! Good water! This runs from the mountain’s base to the great sea itself. They said: Whoever among us has the skill to leap within and seek the source, and return unharmed, we shall make him our king. They shouted thrice. Suddenly a stone monkey leapt forth from the crowd, crying loudly: I will go in! I will go in! A fine monkey indeed! Thus it was said of him:

Today his name resounds, his time and fortune arrive.

By fate he dwells here, Heaven sends him into the Immortal Palace.

See him close his eyes, crouch his body, then with a bound leap straight into the waterfall. Opening his eyes, he saw before him no water, no waves, but clearly a bridge. He steadied himself, gazed again: it was an iron bridge. Beneath it water coursed through stone apertures, hanging downward to veil the gate. He stepped upon the bridge, advanced further, and looked: it was like a dwelling, a wondrous place indeed. Behold:

Green moss piled like azure, white clouds floating like jade, radiance shimmering in mist.

Empty windows and quiet chambers, smooth benches flowered with patterns.

Dragon pearls hung within dripping caves, blossoms spread all about.

By the cliff stood hearths with fire traces, on tables jars with scraps of food.

Stone seats, stone beds delightful, stone basins, stone bowls admirable.

Here bamboos grew tall, there plum blossoms dotted; pines ever bearing rain. Truly like a human dwelling.

After long viewing, he leapt across the bridge, gazed around. In the center stood a stone tablet, engraved in bold regular script:

Blessed Land of the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, Cave Heaven of the Water-Curtain.

The stone monkey rejoiced beyond measure. He rushed outside, crouched, and leapt out, laughing twice: Great fortune! Great fortune! The troop surrounded him, asking: What was inside? How deep the water? The stone monkey said: "No water, no water! It is an iron bridge, and beyond it a natural dwelling. There are flowers and trees, stone houses, stone hearths, stone bowls, stone basins, stone beds, stone benches. At the center a stone tablet engraved: ‘Blessed Land of the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, Cave Heaven of the Water-Curtain.’ Truly a place for us to dwell. It is spacious within, enough for hundreds of us. Let us all move in, and no longer suffer the weather outside. Inside:

When winds blow, we have shelter; when rains fall, we are safe.

Frost and snow cause no fear; thunder is never heard.

Mists and clouds shine always; auspices ever rise.

Pines and bamboos flourish yearly; rare flowers bloom each day."

The monkeys all rejoiced. You must lead us in, lead us in! The stone monkey crouched again, leapt in, and called: All follow me in! The bolder monkeys leapt in; the timid peered and scratched, but after much calling, all went in. Across the bridge, each scrambled for basins and bowls, fought over hearths and beds, dragging and shifting—monkey nature unruly, never still, only resting when exhausted.

The stone monkey sat above and said: Friends! ‘If a man has no faith, none know what he may be.’ You said: whoever could enter and exit unharmed would be your king. I have gone in and out, and found you this cave-heaven to sleep and dwell in, each to enjoy family bliss. Why not crown me king? The troop at once bowed, each in order, calling him Great King for a thousand years. From then, the stone monkey ascended the throne. Hiding the word stone, he was called the Handsome Monkey King. A poem bears witness:

When the three yangs harmonize, myriad beings are born; the immortal stone carried the essence of sun and moon.

From egg to monkey he perfected the Way; borrowing name and form, he joined to the elixir.

Inward he knew no cause, outward he bore a form.

Through all generations, all men are of this; he is called King, he is called Sage, free and unrestrained.

The Handsome Monkey King led the monkeys, apes, and macaques, assigning ministers and aides. By day they roamed the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, by night they lodged in the Water-Curtain Cave. Bound in mutual accord, they joined neither the flocks of birds nor the herds of beasts, but reigned alone, rejoicing without end. Thus:

In spring they gathered blossoms for food and drink, in summer sought fruits for livelihood.

In autumn they dug taro and chestnuts for the season, in winter sought yellow essence to pass the year.

The Handsome Monkey King enjoyed carefree pleasures for three to five hundred years. One day, while feasting joyfully with his troop of monkeys, he suddenly grew sorrowful and shed tears. The monkeys hurriedly bowed and asked, Great King, why are you troubled? The Monkey King said, Though I am happy now, I harbor a distant concern, and thus I grieve. The monkeys laughed and said, Great King, you are far from content! Day after day we gather happily, in this blessed immortal mountain, in this divine cave of the spirit continent. We submit neither to the qilin’s authority nor the phoenix’s rule, nor to the constraint of human kings. Free and unfettered, we enjoy boundless bliss. Why, then, are you worried? The Monkey King said, Though today we are free from human laws, unafraid of beasts’ power, yet in time, when age and blood decline, the Lord Yama will govern us in secret. At death, our lives end in vain, not long enduring among heaven and men. Hearing this, all the monkeys covered their faces and wept, burdened with the thought of impermanence.

Just then, a long-armed ape leapt forth from the ranks and cried aloud, Great King, if you have such foresight, then truly your mind has awakened to the Way. Among the Five Worms, there are three classes not subject to Lord Yama’s rule. The Monkey King asked, Which three? The ape replied, Buddhas, immortals, and sages—these three escape reincarnation, neither born nor dying, sharing the longevity of heaven, earth, mountains, and rivers. The Monkey King asked, Where do these three dwell? The ape replied, They are in this world of Jambudvīpa, in ancient caves and immortal mountains. Hearing this, the Monkey King was filled with joy and said, Tomorrow I shall bid you farewell and descend the mountain, roaming the seas and venturing to the ends of the earth. I must seek these three, and learn from them the art of immortality, to forever escape Yama’s judgment. Alas! With this very vow, he leapt free of the net of reincarnation, and thus the Great Sage Equal to Heaven was destined to be. The monkeys clapped their hands and praised, saying, Excellent! Excellent! Tomorrow we shall cross ridges and mountains, gather fruits, and prepare a great feast to send off the Great King.

The next day, the monkeys indeed gathered immortal peaches, rare fruits, dug mountain yams, and unearthed yellow essence. Orchids and fragrant herbs, jade grasses and wondrous flowers—all were collected and neatly arranged upon stone benches and stone tables, laid out with immortal wines and immortal delicacies. Behold:

Golden balls and jeweled pellets, crimson bursting, yellow plump. Golden balls and jeweled pellets—waxen cherries, true in color and sweet in taste; crimson bursting, yellow plump—ripe plums, fragrant, tart, and sour. Fresh longans, sweet flesh with thin skins; fiery lychees, small-pitted, red-shelled. Crab apples, green fruits borne in clusters; loquats in yellow husks with leaves still attached. Pears shaped like rabbit heads, jujubes like chicken hearts—quenching thirst, easing vexation, dispelling drunkenness. Fragrant peaches, melting apricots, sweet as jade nectar; crisp plums and bayberries, tart as buttery cream. Red pouches, black seeds—ripe watermelons; yellow-skinned persimmons in four-lobed rounds. Pomegranates burst open, cinnabar grains like fiery pearls; chestnuts split, hard flesh like golden agate. Walnuts and ginkgo for tea, coconuts and grapes to make wine. Hazelnuts, pines, torreya, apples fill the trays; oranges, sugarcane, mandarins, tangerines cover the tables. Steamed yams, boiled yellow essence. Pounded poria and coix seeds, cooked into soup in stone pots over gentle fire. However fine earthly delicacies may be, how can they compare to the monkeys’ mountain joy?

The troop honored the Handsome Monkey King in the seat of honor, each according to rank arranged below. One by one they offered wine, flowers, and fruit, and drank merrily for a whole day.

The next morning, the Handsome Monkey King rose early and commanded, Little ones, cut me some dry pines to weave into a raft. Take a bamboo pole for an oar, gather some fruits and provisions. I am going forth. Alone he mounted the raft, pushed with all his might, and drifted upon the waves of the great sea, borne by the heavenly wind toward the shores of Jambudvīpa. Truly it was:

Born of heaven, the immortal monkey’s Way is exalted; leaving the mountain, he rides the raft on heaven’s wind.

Drifting across seas, he seeks the immortal Way; with steadfast resolve he builds great merit.

With fate and fortune he casts off worldly desires; carefree he meets the Primal Dragon.

Surely he will encounter one who understands, revealing the source and mastery of all laws.

Indeed his fortune had arrived. Since boarding the wooden raft, the southeastern winds blew for days, carrying him to the northwest coast, the shores of Jambudvīpa. Testing the waters with his pole, he found them shallow, abandoned the raft, and leapt ashore. There on the beach were people fishing, hunting geese, digging clams, and boiling salt. He approached, played a trick, disguised himself as a tiger, and frightened them so that they dropped baskets and nets, fleeing in all directions. Catching one who could not escape, he stripped him of his clothes and put them on, imitating human dress. Swaggering, he passed through towns and prefectures, learning human manners and speech. By day he ate and drank, by night he lodged, all the while seeking the ways of Buddhas, immortals, and sages, searching for the secret of immortality. Yet he saw that all men pursued only name and profit, none cared for the life of the spirit. Truly:

When will strife for name and profit end? Rising early, sleeping late, never free!

Riding donkeys and mules, they crave fine steeds; as ministers, they long to be lords.

They worry only for food and clothing, yet fear not when Yama summons.

They seek to enrich sons and grandsons, but none will turn back.

The Monkey King sought the immortal Way, but without fate did not meet it. In Jambudvīpa he traveled great walls and small counties, passing eight or nine years unawares. Suddenly, coming to the Western Ocean, he thought: overseas there must be immortals. Alone, as before, he built a raft, drifted across the Western Sea, and reached the shores of the Western Continent of Ox-Herding. Landing, he searched long, until he found a tall and beautiful mountain, with deep and hidden forests. Fearing neither wolves and insects nor tigers and leopards, he climbed to the summit and gazed. Truly a fine mountain:

A thousand peaks like lances, myriad cliffs like screens. Sunlight glimmers in mist, lightly veiling the green; after rain, the dark hues chill with azure. Thin vines coil round old trees, ancient ferries mark secluded paths. Rare flowers and auspicious herbs, tall bamboos and towering pines. Tall bamboos and towering pines, evergreen through ten thousand years, rivaling blessed lands; rare flowers and auspicious herbs, blooming in all seasons, surpassing Penglai. Birds sing close by, springs gurgle clear. Valleys upon valleys filled with orchids, cliffs everywhere with moss. The rising, falling ridges reveal dragon veins—surely high men hide their names here.

As he gazed, suddenly from deep within the forest came the sound of voices. He hurried forward, entered the woods, and listened closely. It was singing:

Watching chess, the axe handle rots; chopping wood, ding-ding; walking slowly by clouds at the valley mouth. Selling firewood for wine, laughing wildly to ease the heart. On blue paths in autumn high, lying by pine roots to the moon, sleeping till dawn. Knowing the old woods, climbing cliffs, crossing ridges, holding an axe to cut dry vines. Gathering them into a load, singing as he goes to the market, trading for three pints of rice. With no contention, fair price. Knowing no schemes, no clever calculations, without honor or shame, content and long-lived. Where one meets, it is either immortal or Daoist, sitting quietly discoursing on the Yellow Court.

The Handsome Monkey King, hearing this, rejoiced and said, So immortals hide here! He leapt in and looked carefully. It was a woodcutter, raising his axe to chop wood. His garb was strange indeed:

On his head a bamboo hat, woven of first-shed bamboo sheaths. On his body a cotton shirt, spun of fine threads. At his waist a rope belt, made of silkworm silk. On his feet grass sandals, woven of dried sedges. In hand a steel axe, on shoulder a hemp rope. Splitting pines, chopping dry trees—what skill this woodcutter has!

The Monkey King came forward and called, Old Immortal, your disciple salutes you. The woodcutter, startled, dropped his axe and turned to bow, saying, Not so, not so! I am but a poor man, struggling to eat and dress. How dare I bear the name ‘immortal’? The Monkey King said, If you are not an immortal, how do you speak immortal words? The woodcutter said, What immortal words have I spoken? The Monkey King said, Just now, by the forest edge, I heard you sing: ‘Where one meets, it is either immortal or Daoist, sitting quietly discoursing on the Yellow Court.’ The Yellow Court is true scripture of the Dao. If you are not an immortal, what are you? The woodcutter laughed and said, I shall not hide it. That song is called Mantingfang. A certain immortal taught me. He lives next to my house. Seeing me troubled daily with toil, he told me that whenever I felt distressed, I should recite this song—first to ease my heart, second to relieve hardship. Just now I was beset by worries, so I recited it, and you happened to hear. The Monkey King said, Since you live near an immortal, why not follow him in cultivation, and learn the way of immortality? Would that not be good? The woodcutter said, My life is bitter. From childhood, raised by my parents till eight or nine, then my father died, leaving my mother a widow. I had no siblings, only myself, bound to serve her morning and night. Now she is old, I cannot abandon her. With fields barren and food lacking, I can only chop bundles of wood, carry them to market, sell them for a few coins, buy a few measures of rice, cook meals, and support my aged mother. Thus I cannot cultivate.

The Monkey King said, By your words, you are a filial gentleman, and surely blessings will follow. Only show me where this immortal dwells, that I may visit. The woodcutter said, Not far, not far. This mountain is called Spirit Platform, Mountain of Mind-and-Heart. Within it lies the Cave of Slanting Moon and Three Stars. There resides an immortal, known as Patriarch Subhūti. His disciples are countless; at present three or four dozen study under him. Follow this small path southward seven or eight li, and you will find it. The Monkey King grasped the woodcutter’s hand and said, Good brother, come with me. If I gain good fortune, I shall never forget your guidance. The woodcutter said, You are most obtuse! Did I not just tell you? If I go with you, will it not ruin my livelihood? Who will care for my old mother? I must chop wood. You go on, go on.

Hearing this, the Monkey King had to bid farewell. Leaving the deep forest, he followed the path, crossed a ridge, and after seven or eight li, truly beheld a cave dwelling. He stood and looked: a wondrous place indeed! Behold:

Mists spread color, sun and moon shimmer light. A thousand old cypresses, ten thousand tall bamboos. A thousand old cypresses, in rain half-hidden, green in the sky; ten thousand tall bamboos, in mist filling a valley, blue in hue. Outside the gate rare flowers spread a brocade, beside the bridge jade grasses breathed fragrance. Cliff walls abrupt, moss gleaming green; hanging crags lofty, lichens growing long. At times were heard immortal cranes, often seen phoenixes soaring. When cranes cried, their voices shook the skies afar; when phoenixes flew, their feathers shone five-colored clouds. Dark apes and white deer, sometimes hidden, sometimes revealed; golden lions and jade elephants, wandering at will. Closely observed, this blessed place of spirit—truly it rivaled heaven.

He saw the cave gate tightly closed, all silent with no trace of people. Suddenly turning his head, he saw on the cliff a stone stele, over three zhang high and more than eight chi wide. Upon it was engraved a line of ten great characters: Spirit Platform, Mountain of Mind-and-Heart; Cave of Slanting Moon and Three Stars. The Handsome Monkey King was overjoyed and said, Indeed, these people are simple and true; here truly is this mountain and this cave. He gazed for a long time, but did not dare knock. Instead, he leapt onto a pine branch, plucked pine seeds, and idled at play.

After a short while, with a creak, the cave gate opened, and from within came a celestial boy. Truly of fine bearing and extraordinary visage, unlike ordinary mortals. Behold him:

Hair in twin topknots bound with silken cords, wide robes with sleeves flowing in the wind.

His form distinct from the common, his heart as empty as his countenance.

A guest beyond the dust for long years, a boy of eternal youth in the mountains.

No speck of dust can stain him, through cycles of time unchanged.

The boy came forth, calling aloud: Who disturbs this place? The Monkey King leapt from the tree, bowed low, and said: Immortal boy, I am a disciple come to seek the Way and learn immortality. I dare not cause disturbance here. The boy laughed and said, So you are a seeker of the Way? The Monkey King said, I am. The boy said, My master had just sat down and ascended the platform to preach the Way, and before he began, he bade me open the gate, saying: ‘Outside is a seeker of cultivation. Go receive him.’ Surely it is you? The Monkey King laughed and said, It is I, it is I. The boy said, Follow me in.

The Monkey King straightened his clothes, composed himself, and followed the boy deep into the cave heaven. Layer upon layer of lofty pavilions and jeweled halls, palaces of pearl and towers of shell, countless secluded chambers and quiet abodes. At last beneath the jade terrace, he beheld Patriarch Bodhi seated upon the dais, with thirty little immortals standing below on either side. Truly:

Great Enlightened Golden Immortal of stainless form, Patriarch Bodhi of wondrous aspect in the West.

Unborn and undying, in triple and triple ranks, complete in qi and spirit, boundless in compassion.

Silent and natural, free in transformation; true suchness, original nature, at ease in all.

With heaven’s longevity, body solemn and adorned; through kalpas he illumines minds, great master of the Dharma.

The Monkey King, on seeing him, prostrated himself, knocking his head countless times, crying only: Master, Master! Your disciple reverently pays homage, reverently pays homage. The Patriarch said: From whence do you come? Speak your native land and name clearly, then bow again. The Monkey King said: Your disciple is from the Eastern Continent of Superior Body, the Kingdom of Aolai, the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit, Water-Curtain Cave. The Patriarch cried: Drive him out! He is a cheat and liar—how could such as he cultivate the fruit of the Way? The Monkey King hastily knocked his head without ceasing, saying: Disciple speaks truth, never falsehood. The Patriarch said: If you are truthful, how could you say Eastern Continent? That place lies across two great seas and the Southern Continent besides. How did you reach here? The Monkey King kowtowed and said: Disciple drifted across seas, traveled through realms, for ten and more years, before finding this place.

The Patriarch said: If you came step by step, so be it. What is your surname? The Monkey King said again: I have no nature. If one curses me, I take no offense; if one strikes me, I feel no anger. I only bow in courtesy, and that is all. All my life I have had no nature. The Patriarch said: Not that kind of nature. What surname had your parents? The Monkey King said: I have no parents. The Patriarch said: If no parents, then you must have grown on a tree? The Monkey King said: Though not from a tree, I was born from stone. I recall that on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit was a divine stone, and when it split, I was born. The Patriarch, hearing this, secretly rejoiced, and said: So you are heaven-and-earth engendered. Rise and walk that I may see. The Monkey King leapt up, swaggering as he walked twice about. The Patriarch laughed and said: Your body though base resembles an ape that eats pine fruits. I shall take a surname from your form, and call you ‘Hu’ (ape). Yet the beast radical removed leaves only ‘Gu Yue’ (ancient moon). ‘Gu’ is old, ‘Yue’ is yin. Old yin cannot engender, so better to name you ‘Sun’ (monkey). The ‘Sun’ character, with beast radical removed, is ‘zi xi’. ‘Zi’ is child, ‘xi’ is young—just fitting your origin. Let your surname be Sun. The Monkey King rejoiced and kowtowed, saying: Good! Good! Good! Today at last I know my surname. May Master in compassion also grant me a given name, that I may be called. The Patriarch said: In my school are twelve characters for names, assigned by generation. You are of the tenth. The Monkey King said: What twelve characters? The Patriarch said: They are Guang, Da, Zhi, Hui, Zhen, Ru, Xing, Hai, Ying, Wu, Yuan, Jue. To you falls Wu. I give you the Dharma name Sun Wukong. Is it good? The Monkey King laughed and said: Good! Good! Good! From now I am called Sun Wukong. Truly:

When chaos first parted there were no surnames; break through stubborn emptiness and you must awaken to Emptiness.

But what cultivation and fruit he would achieve henceforth, hear it in the next chapter.

Chapter 2

Wukong Awakens to Bodhi; The Spirit Returns to the Origin

Now to speak of the Handsome Monkey King: having obtained his name, he leapt for joy, bowed before Patriarch Bodhi and gave thanks. The Patriarch at once ordered the assembly to lead Sun Wukong outside the second gate, and there teach him the courtesies of sweeping and serving, advancing and retreating with propriety. The immortals obeyed and led him out. Wukong, at the gate, bowed again to the elder disciples, and arranged his lodging in the corridors. Next morning, with his brothers he learned speech and manners, studied sutras and discussed the Way, practiced writing and incense-offering. Daily thus. In idle hours he swept grounds, weeded gardens, tended flowers and trees, gathered firewood, fetched water, mixed gruel. All things were provided.