This is a fresh, complete English translation of Wu Cheng’en’s public-domain one-hundred-chapter novel, produced with GPT-5.3-Codex-Spark assistance. It is an AI-assisted first edition, not a reproduction of an existing translation.

A poem says:

In the world, keep your heart upon a blade’s edge; in self-cultivation, remember even the smallest measure. They say the word ‘blade’ stands for life, but think three times before anger and mockery. The noble have never contended through the ages; the saintly hold virtue and carry the era onward. There are always fiercer ones than the fierce, and in the end all becomes emptiness and nothing.

Great Immortal Zhenyuan held Sun Wukong by the arm and said, “I know your talents, and I have heard of your fame; but this time you have grown crafty and too clever with your heart. Even if you can rise and fly, you cannot slip from my hand. I will take you to the Western Lands, see your Buddha, and still I will have my ginseng-berry tree back. Do not use sorcery.” Sun Wukong laughed and said, “You, sir, look like a little household gentleman. If the tree is to live again, what is so hard about it? If you had said this earlier, we might have spared ourselves this quarrel.” Great Immortal Zhenyuan said, “No quarrel. I will generously forgive you.” Sun Wukong said, “If you release my master, I’ll return you a living tree.” Great Immortal Zhenyuan said, “If with your magic you can heal the tree back to life, I will greet you eight times, become your equal, and make us brothers.” Sun Wukong said, “Then free them. Old Wukong will make sure to return you a living tree.”

Great Immortal Zhenyuan guessed that he could not escape, and so he ordered that Tripitaka, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing be released. Sha Wujing said, “Master, I don’t know what ghost your elder brother has stirred up.” Zhu Bajie said, “What ghost? It is what we might call the ghost of present politeness. The tree is dead; can he really heal it alive? He made a flashy medicinal powder to look proper, and while asking for a healer for the tree he tried to flee, yet he even thinks about you and me.” Tripitaka said, “He certainly will not dare to abandon us. Ask him where to ask for medicine.” Then he called out, “Wukong, how did you trick the immortal into releasing us?” Sun Wukong said, “Old Wukong never lies. How could I have tricked him?” Tripitaka said, “Where will you go to seek a remedy?” Sun Wukong said, “The ancients said, ‘A remedy comes from the sea.’ I go now to the Eastern Ocean, to roam the three islands and ten continents, asking elder immortals for a method to raise the dead and restore life. I will surely cure his tree.” Tripitaka said, “When will you be back?” Sun Wukong said, “Only three days.” Tripitaka said, “Then as you say, I set you a limit of three days. Return within three days and all is well. If you do not come back after three days, I will recite the Tightening Headband Spell.” Sun Wukong said, “Understood. Understood.”

See him quickly adjust his tiger-skin skirt, then he went out and said to the Great Immortal, “Master, do not worry. I will go and return quickly. You, however, must serve my master well—three cups of tea and six meals each day, without fail. If even one thing is lacking, when Old Wukong returns he will settle accounts with you and first smash the bottom of your pot. Change his clothes and wash him, wash him and wash him again. If his face turns yellow, I don’t want him; if he loses weight, do not let him go out.” The Great Immortal said, “Go on. Go on. I will not let him remain hungry.”

At once, Sun Wukong leaped onto the clump-cloud and left Five-House Observatory, turning straight toward the Eastern Ocean. In the sky he was as fast as lightning, as swift as a meteor, and soon arrived at the fairyland of Penglai. He settled on the cloud and looked down carefully. It was truly a beautiful place. A poem bears witness:

The earth below is an immortal land where saints are lined in court. In Penglai, tide waves are calmed, parted and gathered by command. The reflection of the Jade Terrace cools the heart of Heaven; bright lights of great towers rise over the sea. Five-hued rosy clouds hold jade-like music; stars and moon in nine heavens cast rays on golden-tusked turtles. At the Western Pond, the Queen Mother often comes there, presenting peaches in blessing to the Three Immortals.

Sun Wukong could not exhaust the fair scenery. He entered Penglai directly. As he walked, he came upon White Cloud Cave. Beneath a pine shade sat three old men around a board game. The one watching the board was Shouxing; the two players were Fuxing and Luxing. Sun Wukong walked up and called, “Elders, my greetings and bows.” The Three Stars saw him, pushed aside the game board, and returned the greeting: “What brings the Great Sage?” Sun Wukong said, “I have come to test my wit with you.” Shouxing said, “I have heard the Great Sage cast off the Way and entered Buddhism, abandoning life itself, and that he protects Tripitaka on the journey west for the sutra, hurrying daily over mountain roads. With such burdens, how can you come here to play?” Sun Wukong said, “I shall not hide anything from you all. On the way westward I met some obstacles in mid-journey. I have come to ask a small matter. Do you grant it?” Fuxing said, “Where? Why were you obstructed? Make it clear so that we may decide.” Sun Wukong said, “On the way we passed Wanshou Mountain, Five-House Observatory, and there was trouble.” The three elders were astonished and said, “Five-House Observatory is the immortal palace of Great Immortal Zhenyuan. Did you perhaps steal his ginseng fruit?” Sun Wukong laughed, “What is there to steal that is so precious?” The three elders said, “Monkey, you do not understand its worth. Smell that fruit and one gains three hundred and sixty years. Eat one and one may live forty-seven thousand years. It is called Wanshou herbal-cinnamon pill. Our practice does not compare with his. He obtains it with ease and can live long as Heaven itself. We still must nourish essence, refine qi, preserve spirit, and harmonize dragon and tiger, seize Kan and fill Li, and do not know how many hours of labor this costs. How can you say what he has has such little value? This is the only such numinous root in all under Heaven.” Sun Wukong said, “A numinous root, a numinous root—I have already made its root snap.” The three elders cried in surprise, “You snapped it how?”

Sun Wukong said, “The other day in his hall Great Immortal Zhenyuan was not at home, and only two young attendants received my master. They offered him three ginseng fruits, but my master did not recognize them and said he was a child not yet three days old, so he refused to eat them again and again. Those boys took them and ate them themselves, never letting us have any. So old Wukong stole three fruits and we three brothers ate them. The attendants, not knowing our measure, cursed and shouted at every turn. Old Wukong got angry, struck the tree with a cudgel and knocked it down. All the fruit was gone; the leaves opened out and dropped, the roots were exposed and the branches broken. It was already dead. Then the boys locked us up, and Wukong twisted the shackles and escaped. The next morning at first light, that immortal came home and entered in haste. In questioning and answering, words clashed; soon we fought. He dodged, spread his robe sleeves open and with one sweep scooped up both Master and disciples with a sleeve. Ropes and bindings were wound about us; with questions and whips he beat us for a full day. That night we escaped again, and he caught up and again netted us. He had no iron weapon at all, only a yak-tail whisk as shield, and with such three kinds of weapons as we had among us, do not imagine he could strike us. On this run he still contrived it: wrapping us in cloth, he lacquers Tripitaka and the two junior disciples, and would have put us under a hot-oil pot. Old Wukong then used an escape technique and walked out, breaking the pot he had. He could not catch me, though he had some resentment.” Again I spoke with him and told him to release my master and two brothers, and I would return and cure his tree. At last both houses found peace. Thinking of, ‘The remedy comes from the sea,’ I came to this fairyland to ask these three elders for a way to save the holy Tripitaka from suffering.”

Hearing this, the Three Stars also felt vexed and said, “You monkey knows nothing of people. Great Immortal Zhenyuan is the ancestor of earthly immortals; we are the lineage of heavenborn immortals. Though you have obtained heavenly immortality, you are still among the scattered teachings of Taiyi, not yet in true current. How can you escape from his hand? If Great Sage can kill and revive beasts that walk, fly, crawl, and are scaled and shelled, my millet-and-rice elixir can restore them. But the ginseng fruit is the root of a heavenly tree—how can it be treated? No formula, no formula at all.” When Sun Wukong heard there was no remedy there, his brows knotted twice and his forehead drew into a thousand lines. Fuxing said, “Great Sage, there is no formula here, but perhaps elsewhere. Why worry?” Sun Wukong said, “I am not blocked by wishing for no formula, if it were easy. I could roam sea’s corners and heaven’s horizons, pass through all thirty-six heavens, and still call it a small matter. But my Tripitaka keeps strict rules and narrow measure. He gives me only a three-day limit. If I fail to return within three days, he will recite the Tightening Headband Spell.” The Three Stars laughed: “Fine, fine, fine. If not for that spell tying you, you would already have pierced the skies again.” Shouxing said, “Great Sage, do not worry. Though that Great Immortal styles himself a senior, he knows us too. First, we have not greeted each other for a long time; second, there is your matter of human kindness. Now the three of us will go and visit him together. Then we will convey this situation and ask that Tripitaka not recite the Tightening Headband Spell. Let him wait three or five days, only until you return with a formula, and then we part.” Sun Wukong said, “I am grateful, I am grateful. Please, please, three elders, go ahead now. I will depart as well.” The Great Sage bade farewell to the Three Stars and left aside further account.

Then the Three Stars set out in auspicious radiance and came to Five-House Observatory. Within that gathering all at once heard cranes cry through the vast sky; those were indeed the three elders arriving with heavenly radiance. They saw:

The sky was full of gentle auspicious light. In the vault of heaven, fragrant mist swirled in abundance. A thousand streaks of colored vapor guarded their feathered robes, and one light cloud lifted a single immortal foot. A blue pheasant flew, a vermilion phoenix wheeled, sleeves drawing fragrant wind that swept the earth. Their staffs tipped with hanging dragons seemed to smile as they came, and snowy beards brushed before chests like carved jade. Childlike faces, joyful, with no trace of worry, vigorous forms and masculine might, richly blessed. They held star-tally rods and sea-like purses, gourds and precious registers hung at the waist. Across ten thousand periods and a thousand springs, blessings of life and age endure by their fate. They often come to the mortal world with a thousand good omens, and each time add a hundred blessings among human beings. They encompass Heaven and Earth and magnify Fortune and Longevity, a boundless joy of bliss and long life at last. The three elders rode the auspicious light to visit Great Immortal Zhenyuan; in the Hall of Blessings, harmony overflowed beyond measure.

That immortal youth saw it at once and hurried to report, “Master, the Three Stars have come from the sea.” Zhenyuanzi had been in easy conversation with Tripitaka and his disciple companions when he heard the report, and at once came down a step to welcome them. When Bajie saw Shou Xing, he stepped forward, grabbed him, and laughed, “You old, meat-headed man, we have not seen you for so long, and you still look so loose—didn’t even bring your cap.” He then took one of his monk caps and tossed it onto his head. Grinning, he laughed and said, “Good, good, good—truly, this is adding the crown and gaining rank.” Shou Xing shoved the hat off and cursed, “You clod of a fellow, old fool, you do not know your place.” Bajie said, “I am no clod. You all are truly servants.” Fu Xing said, “You are the clod indeed, yet you dare call people servants?” Bajie laughed again, “If I am not a servant, why call it ‘adding Longevity,’ ‘adding Fortune,’ ‘adding Rank’?” Tripitaka sent Bajie away in a scolding, then quickly straightened his robes and paid obeisance to the Three Stars.

The three stars greeted the Immortal with the manners of juniors, and only then sat down. Once seated, Shou Xing said, “It has been long since we paid our respects to your noble presence. For this fault of discourtesy, we have now come because Great Sage Sun Wukong has disturbed the Immortal Mountain, and we wanted to meet.” The Immortal said, “Has Sun Wukong gone off to Penglai?” Shou Xing said, “Yes. He damaged your alchemical tree and came to my place to ask for a prescription to treat it. We had no such prescription, and he sought treatment elsewhere, but he may have broken the Tripitaka’s three-day limit for saying the Tightening Headband Spell. So we came now: one, to bow and pay respect; two, to beg for more time.” Hearing this, Tripitaka answered repeatedly, “I dare not say it. I dare not say it.”

While this was being spoken, Bajie came running back again, grabbed Fu Xing, and wanted fruit to eat. He fumbled in his sleeves, dug about his waist, and kept lifting his robes to search him. Tripitaka said laughing, “What kind of rule does Bajie have?” Bajie said, “Not no rule at all—this is what is called ‘fortune every turn.’” Tripitaka again ordered him away. The pig monk stepped out the hall, staring at Fu Xing with eyes that never moved and glaring fiercely. Fu Xing said, “Clod, why should I have angered you? How can you bear such hatred toward me?” Bajie said, “Not hatred. This is ‘turning the head to look for fortune.’” When the fool stepped outside, he saw a child carrying four tea spoons; the boy had just gone to fetch the bell, fruit, and tea. Bajie snatched them in one motion, ran up into the hall, took up a little hand-bell, and banged and beat it wildly, playing tricks with both ends. The Immortal said, “This monk has become even less respectful.” Bajie replied laughing, “Not less respectful—this is the ‘four-season felicity.’"

Leaving aside the matter of Bajie’s bickering and mischief, the Great Sage once again mounted his cloud and left Penglai, reaching Fangzhang Immortal Mountain quite quickly. It was truly a place worth going to. A poem says:

Fangzhang towers high and awe-inspiring, set apart as its own heaven. In the Palace of Great Origin, courts of immortals gather. The light of the Purple Terrace shines along the road of the Three Purities, and flowers and trees cast fragrant five-colored smoke. Golden phoenixes fill the many-hued blossom pavilions, while jade ointment would never be forced to water the ginseng fields. Green peaches and purple plums ripen anew, and once again the immortals keep faith for ten thousand years.

The Great Sage stepped down from the cloud and, with no thought of lingering over the scenery, kept walking. As he moved he heard rich incense-like fragrance in the wind and the cry of a supernatural crane; then in the adjacent hall appeared an immortal. He beheld:

Across the empty sky, myriad streams of rosy light appeared; colorful mists drifted and swirled in unbroken brilliance. The cinnabar phoenix clasping flowers looked all the brighter; the azure-luan bird sang at the cave mouth and the black crane danced on mountain peaks. Fortune like the East Sea, longevity like a mountain; he looked like a young child, yet his body was strong. He held in his hidden-cave heaven an elixir against old age; at his waist hung a talisman of long life for coiling with the sun. In this world many times he descends with auspicious signs. How many times has he taken away disasterful destinies? The Martial Emperor once announced an increase in lifespan, and to the Jade Pool he every so often attends the peaches banquets. He teaches many monks to discard worldly entanglements, and points open toward the Great Way, bright as lightning. He has crossed seas before to bless a thousand autumns, and often goes to Lingshan to see Buddha’s face. His sacred title is the Great Emperor Lord Donghua, the foremost immortal amid fragrant clouds.

Wukong smiled as he faced him and called out, “Your Majesty, we have begun.” The lord hurriedly returned the greeting: “Great Sage, my welcome failed you; please come to this humble house for tea.” And with him he brought Wukong inside. Indeed it was the Bei-Que Immortal Palace, a splendor of Jade-Pool towers impossible to count. After they sat waiting for tea, a child came out from behind the emerald screen. He looked thus:

He wore Dao robes, with cloud-glitter drifting around him. A silken tassel at his waist flashed with patterned light. On his head, a linen cap was marked with the stars of the Dipper. On his feet, reed sandals as he walked like one roaming immortal peaks. A true alchemist, he had shed his old shell; when he had fulfilled his art and practice, he rejoiced in ease. Seeing through original streams of essence, qi, and spirit, the master recognized him without error. He now delights in endless longevity, having left off ambition for fame; even whole Jiazi cycles of heaven and earth could not contain him. He passed through corridors and climbed treasure pavilions, and had plucked heavenly peaches there three times. From the pale-blue cloud emerging behind the jade-green screen came the little immortal himself: it was Dongfang Shuo.

Wukong looked and laughed. “Here is the little thief right here. Did he steal peaches where the lord has none to grant?” Dongfang Shuo came forward and, with a formal offering, answered, “Old thief, why have you come here? My master has no immortal pill for you to steal.”

The lord called, “Mǎn Qiàn, stop your wild talk. Bring tea as well.” Mancián, one of Dongfang Shuo’s Taoist names, hurried inside and brought two cups of tea. After drinking, Wukong said, “Great Sage, I have a matter to petition you. I do not know whether it may be granted.” The lord said, “What matter? Of course—please instruct me.” Wukong said, “Recently, while escorting Tripitaka on the journey westward, we passed Wanshou Mountain at Wuzhuang Observatory. His little child there behaved badly, and in one moment of anger I knocked down the person-living ginseng-fruit tree. For that instant it blocked our way and Tripitaka could not slip away. I have come to your honored place to request one prescription of cure, and I beg you most earnestly to grant it.” The lord said, “You monkey meddles in everything, making trouble wherever you go and caring nothing at all. That Wuzhuang is under Zhenyuanzi. His sacred style is Shitongjun, and he is the ancestor among earth-immortals—how could you have collided with him? That ginseng-fruit tree is a cinnabar root; for you to steal and eat it already deserves punishment, and on top of that you pushed down the tree itself. How could he simply let it pass?” Wukong said, “That is exactly true. We escaped, but when he caught up with us he treated us like a sweat cloth and swept us all up in one sleeve, so we were in a rage. Having no way to avoid it, I begged him for medicine; therefore I made this petition.” The lord said, “I have one Nine-Perfected Taiyi Reverted Elixir-Pill; it can heal living things in the mortal world, but it cannot heal trees. A tree is the spirit of earth and wood, nourished by heavenly dews and earth’s moisture. If it were an ordinary fruit tree among common people, treatment might be possible. But Wanshou Mountain is Primordial blessed terrain, Wuzhuang Observatory is the Cave Heaven of Hezhou, and the ginseng-fruit is a spiritual root opened by heaven and cleft from earth itself. How can it be treated? There is no method, no method at all.”

“There is no method, then, and I shall take my leave,” Wukong said. The lord still wished to detain him and serve a cup of jade liquor, but Wukong said, “The urgent cure is tight; I dare not stay.” He then rode the cloud back to Yíngzhōu and its offshore island, another fine place indeed. A poem attests:

Jade trees glitter and sparkle, shining through purple mist, while Yíngzhōu’s palaces and towers join all the heavens. Green mountains, blue waters, and wondrous jeweled flowers are in full bloom; jade liquor in bronze vessels, hard as ironstone. Five-colored teal pheasants cry at the sea-sun, and a thousand-year red phoenix drinks in scarlet smoke. Men of the human world can never truly investigate the scenes within this flask; beyond appearance, a spring-like radiance lasts for a hundred million years.

When Wukong arrived at Yíngzhōu, just beneath the cinnabar cliffs and jewel trees he saw a few elders with white hair and broad beards, and immortals with youthful faces and crane-black side-locks, where they were playing chess, drinking wine, talking, laughing, and singing. It was truly:

Auspicious light filled all the sky and auspicious vapors floated fragrant. Colorful luan called at the cave mouth; dark cranes danced on the mountain peaks. Crystal lotus and water peaches served for cups of wine; paired pears and fire dates promised life through a thousand autumns. Each one was free of worldly clamor, and yet their immortal tablets were in hand. They roamed carelessly on drifting waves, loose and tranquil in pure seclusion. The heavenly cycles of Jiazi could not bind it; heaven and earth were all alike in freedom. To the sages they offered fruit—black-faced apes, in matched pairs, many and wonderfully cherished. White stags with flowers in their mouths knelt together, their deference exquisitely tender.

Those old ones were still in merry play. The Great Sage then called in a loud voice, “Can you not let me enjoy a little of this too?” The immortals saw him and hurried forward to welcome him. A poem attests:

The spirit-root of the ginseng-fruit tree was broken. The Great Sage came to seek immortals and ask for the wondrous prescription. Through red-gold clouds circling the treasure groves, the Nine Elders of Yíngzhōu came forth to receive him.

Wukong recognized them as the Nine Elders and laughed, “You old brothers are quite free indeed.” The Nine Elders said, “When once you kept the proper path, if you had not stirred trouble in Heaven, you would have been even freer than we are. Now it is different: we hear that you have returned to true practice and are going west to bow to Buddha. How did you find time to come here?” Wukong set out fully the matter of seeking medicine for the tree. The Nine Elders were astonished and said, “You do ask for trouble endlessly, cause trouble endlessly. We truly have no remedy.”

“If there is no remedy,” Wukong said, “I shall take my leave.” The Nine Elders again held him back to drink celestial nectar and eat jade lotus. Wukong would not sit. He stood, drank one cup of nectar, ate one piece of lotus root, and hurriedly departed Yíngzhōu, turning toward the Eastern Ocean. Soon he saw Mount La-ga not far off, so he came down from the cloud and reached Mount Putuo, where he saw Guanyin Bodhisattva in the purple bamboo forest expounding the Dharma with various heavenly divinities, Mu Zha, and the Dragon Maiden. A poem attests:

The Sea-Lord’s city rose high, and auspicious qi was thick; still more, one saw endless marvels and wonders. Know this: within a thousand subtle forms lies the hidden in one—everything comes out of one rare and subtle category. Four holy sages, at the proper time, attain true fruition; the six ordinary beings, hearing this, break free from cage and bondage. Shaolin has another true flavor; the fragrance of blossoms and fruit fills the trees, red and abundant.

The Bodhisattva had already seen the Wandering Sage come, and at once ordered the Great Spirit of Shoushan to go meet him. The Great Spirit came out of the forest and called, “Sun Wukong, where are you going?” Wukong raised his head and barked, “Are you the one who called for Wukong, you black bear? Was it not Old Sun who spared you before? You have already become a corpse-ghost of Black Wind Mountain. Today you followed the Bodhisattva, gained good fruit, dwell on this immortal mountain, and hear the Dharma teachings every day—yet you cannot even address me as ‘laoye’?” That black bear had truly attained the right fruit. Under the Bodhisattva’s charge he now guarded Mount Putuo and was called a Great Spirit, all because of the Monk-Warrior. He could only smile and say, “Great Sage, as the ancients say, ‘A gentleman does not keep resentments from the past.’ Why ask what else? It was the Bodhisattva who sent me to welcome you.” The Monk-Warrior then, with full formality and sincere respect, went with the Great Spirit into the Purple Bamboo Grove and paid respects to the Bodhisattva.

The Bodhisattva asked, “Wukong, where has Tripitaka reached?” Wukong replied, “He reached Mount Wanshou on Xiniuho Isles.” The Bodhisattva said, “There is a Wuzhuang Hall on Mount Wanshou. Have you met Zhenyuan Daxian there?” Wukong bowed and said, “Because he was at Wuzhuang Hall, the disciple did not recognize Zhenyuan Daxian, damaged his ginseng-fruit tree, and colliding with him, he obstructed my teacher from moving forward.” The Bodhisattva, knowing his mind, said in wonder, “You insolent monkey knows nothing of consequence. His ginseng-fruit tree is a sacred root opened from heaven and earth. Zhenyuan is the ancestor of the Earth Immortals. I have even shown him tolerance—how could you strike his tree?” Wukong knelt again and said, “My disciple truly did not know. That day he was out, and only two little immortals were on duty. It was Zhu Bajie who saw he had fruit and wanted to taste one new one; the disciple secretly stole three, and the brothers shared them. The children noticed and scolded us without restraint. In anger, the disciple knocked his tree down. The next day he returned and caught us in an instant, binding us with rope, whipping us, and beating us for a day. We escaped by night, but he caught up again and still cage-dragged us. Three times or two, it was truly hard to escape. I promised to heal his tree, yet only then did I seek a cure from the sea, wandering the three islands, and no gods had any power. For this reason the disciple truly resolved to make proper pilgrimage and especially confessed to the Bodhisattva, hoping for mercy and a gift to save Tripitaka and let him go west soon.” The Bodhisattva said, “Why did you not come to me sooner, and instead go to the islands seeking one?”

Hearing this, Wukong rejoiced within: “How providential, how providential. The Bodhisattva surely has a remedy.” He moved forward again in earnest entreaty. The Bodhisattva said, “In the bottom of my pure bottle is ambrosial dew that can heal immortal trees and spiritual seedlings.” Wukong asked, “Have you tested it?” The Bodhisattva answered, “I have.” “What result?” Wukong asked. The Bodhisattva said, “Once, the Supreme Elder Lord Laozi wagered with me and won. He pulled out my willow twig, put it into the refining furnace, scorched it to ash, and sent it back to me. I put it in the bottle, and after a day and night it regained green branches and leaves, the same as before.” Wukong laughed, “Wonderful destiny, truly. If even charred wood can be revived, how could this toppled tree be difficult?” The Bodhisattva then instructed the assembly, “Guard the forest while I come and go.” She carried the pure bottle in her hand. A white parrot trilled cleverly ahead; Sun Wukong followed close behind. There is a poem to bear witness:

Jade-bristle and gold-horned marks are hard for this world to weigh; it is truly the Compassionate One who rescues beings from suffering. In former kalpas I met the Buddha without stain; till now I have gained a formed body. In so many births, the sea of desire has calmed to still waves, and one field of heart holds not a grain of dust. Ambrosial dew, tested by wondrous true Dharma, instructs the precious tree to keep spring forever.

Elsewhere in the pavilion, the Great Immortal and the Three Elders were speaking quietly when suddenly they saw Sun Wukong alight from his cloud and call out, “The Bodhisattva has come. Quickly, quickly receive her.” Startled, the Three Stars, Zhenyuan Daxian, and Tripitaka’s three disciples all went out together from the Treasure Hall. The Bodhisattva then set down her auspicious cloud, first exchanged words with Zhenyuan Daxian, then paid her respects to the Three Elders. After the bows, she sat. At the steps, Wukong brought Tripitaka, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing to bow to her. The immortals of that retreat also came to pay respects. Wukong said, “Great Immortal, do not delay. Prepare the incense table at once and ask the Bodhisattva to cure that tree of yours.” The Great Immortal bowed and thanked her, saying, “How could this unworthy one dare to trouble the Bodhisattva to descend?” The Bodhisattva said, “Tripitaka is my disciple. Sun Wukong struck at the Master; naturally he must pay compensation for the treasure-tree.” The Three Elders said, “If so, do not keep talking modestly. Please ask the Bodhisattva to all go into the garden and see for yourselves.”

The Great Immortal immediately ordered a ceremonial table to be prepared, had the garden swept, and asked the Bodhisattva to go ahead, with the Three Elders following. When Tripitaka’s master and disciples and all the retreat’s immortals came into the garden, that tree lay fallen on the ground, its roots showing, leaves gone, and branches withered. The Bodhisattva called, “Wukong, extend your hand.” Wukong held out his left hand. The Bodhisattva dipped the willow twig from the bottle’s ambrosial dew and drew, in his palm, a revival glyph of life-restoring power, instructing him to place it under the roots. Wukong was to wait for the water to rise. The Monk-Warrior knelt with a fist, tucked it beneath the roots; in a moment, a clear spring swelled into a pool. The Bodhisattva said, “This water must not be used in any Five-Agents vessel. It must be ladled out with jade dippers. Raise the tree upright, pour it from the top; naturally the root bark will join, buds will rise, branches will green, and fruit will form.” Wukong said, “Young Taoists, bring out jade ladles at once.” Zhenyuan said, “This poor one in the wild mountain has no jade ladle, only jade tea cups and jade wine cups. Could those be used?” The Bodhisattva said, “If it is jade and can scoop water, that will do. Bring them and see.” The Great Immortal immediately ordered the young attendants to bring out some two or three dozen tea cups and four or five dozen wine cups, and those were used to ladle the spring from the roots. Wukong, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing lifted and carried the tree, set it straight, and packed soil around the base. Then, cup after cup of the jade vessels of sweet spring water was carried to the Bodhisattva. The Bodhisattva sprinkled the water with the willow twig in fine strokes while intoning sutra and incantation. Not long after, the sprinkled water disappeared into the root, and the tree truly returned as before, with dark green, dense leaves, and twenty-three ginseng fruits upon it. The two youths, Qingfeng and Mingyue, said, “When we did not see the fruit yesterday, only twenty-two were counted, inverted upside down. Why does one more appear now that it has revived?” Wukong said, “‘Time reveals human nature.’ The other day, Old Sun stole only three. The one that fell to the ground entered the earth, and the soil spirit said this treasure had gone into the earth. It was only because Zhu Bajie kept shouting that I had struck it off-center; so the wind-borne rumor drifted away and lingered, and only now is the truth plain.” The Bodhisattva said, “What I earlier said about not using Five-Agents vessels was because this thing fears the Five Phases.”

The Great Immortal was greatly delighted and urgently ordered a golden mallet brought. He knocked down ten fruits and asked the Bodhisattva and the Three Elders to return to the Treasure Hall: first, to give thanks for their service; second, to hold a ginseng-fruit banquet. The little immortals then set up tables and chairs and laid out the cinnabar trays. They invited the Bodhisattva to sit on the principal seat, with the Three Elders on her left, Tripitaka on her right, and Zhenyuan in the front seat beside her. They each ate one. There is a poem to bear witness:

In the mid-realm of hidden heaven on Mount Wanshou, the ginseng fruit matures over nine thousand years. Its holy root sprouts out again, damaged branches restored; ambrosial dew nourishes them and the fruit and leaves are complete. The three elders meet joyously, all old allies by bond; the four monks are fortunate to meet this as former affinity. From now on, those who partake of ginseng fruit are all immortals of endless life and youth.

At this point, after the Bodhisattva and the Three Elders each had eaten one, Tripitaka at last understood it was an immortal treasure and ate one. Wukong and the three also each ate one, Zhenyuan ate one, and the immortals of that hall shared one. Only then did Wukong thank the Bodhisattva and return to Mount Putuo, sending the Three Elders directly to Penglai Island. Zhenyuan, however, arranged vegetables and wine again and made brothers with Wukong. This was exactly, not striking does not make acquaintance; the two families became one family. The four disciples and master were happy and in joy; evening had come. Then the elder said:

By destined affinity one may taste the root-replenishing elixir; With long life, enduring the hardships that come from battling demons is still difficult.

As for how they part on the morrow, we shall leave that to the next chapter to explain.