His bearing was refined, his visage noble,
His ears hung down to his shoulders, and his eyes shone.
The hat on his head had three peaks and phoenixes flying,
And his robe was of a pale goose-yellow.
His boots were lined with cloth of gold; dragons coiled round his socks;
His jade belt was decorated with the eight jewels,
At his waist was a bow, curved like the moon,
In his hand a double-edged trident.
His axe had split open Peach Mountain when he rescued his mother,
His bow had killed the twin phoenixes of Zongluo.
Widespread was his fame for killing the Eight Bogies,
And he had become one of Plum Hill's seven sages.
His heart was too lofty to acknowledge his relatives in Heaven;
In his pride he went back to be a god at Guanjiang.
He was the Merciful and Miraculous Sage of the red city,
Erlang, whose transformations were numberless.
When the Great Sage saw him he laughed with delight, raised his gold-banded cudgel, and shouted, “Where are you from, little general, that you have the audacity to challenge me?”
“You must be blind, you wretch, if you can't recognize me. I am the nephew of the Jade Emperor, and my title is Merciful and Miraculous King Erlang. I am here on imperial orders to arrest you, Protector of the Horses, you rebel against Heaven, you reckless baboon.”
“Now I remember who you are,” replied the Great Sage. “Some years ago the Jade Emperor's younger sister wanted to be mortal and came down to the lower world, where she married a Mr. Yang and gave birth to a son, who split the Peach Mountain open with his axe. Is that who you are? I should really fling you a few curses, but I've got no quarrel with you; and it would be a pity to kill you by hitting you with my cudgel. So why don't you hurry back, young sir, and tell those four Heavenly Kings of yours to come out?”
When the True Lord Erlang heard this he burst out angrily, “Damned monkey! Where are your manners? Try this blade of mine!” The Great Sage dodged the blow and instantly raised his gold-banded club to hit back. There was a fine battle between the two of them:
The Merciful God Erlang,
The Great Sage Equaling Heaven:
One is the Handsome Monkey King, the proud deceiver of his enemies;
The other a true pillar, the unknown subduer.
When the two met
They were both in a fighting mood.
He who had no respect before
Today learned a sense of proportion.
The iron staff raced with the flying dragons,
The divine cudgel seemed like a dancing phoenix.
Parrying to the left, thrusting to the right,
Advancing to meet a blow, flashing behind.
The brothers of Plum Hill add to one side's might,
While the other has the four Stalwart Generals to transmit orders.
As the flags wave and the drums roll each side is as one;
Battle-cries and gongs raise everyone's morale.
The two steel blades each watch for their chance,
But neither leaves an opening as they come and go.
The gold-banded cudgel, the treasure from the sea,
Can fly and transform itself to win the victory.
A moment's delay and life is lost;
A single mistake will be the last.
After Erlang and the Great Sage had fought over three hundred rounds the outcome of the fight was still undecided. Erlang braced, himself, and with a shake became ten thousand fathoms tall; in his hands his two-bladed trident looked like the peaks of Mount Hua. His face was black, his fangs were long, and his hair was bright red: he looked ferociously evil. He hacked at the Great Sage's head. The Great Sage, also resorting to magic, gave himself a body as big as Erlang's and a face as frightening; and he raised his As-You-Will gold-banded cudgel, which was now like the pillar of Heaven on the summit of the Kunlun Mountain, to ward off Erlang's blow. This reduced the two ape field marshals Ma and Liu to such trembling terror that they could no longer wave their banners, while the gibbon generals Seng and Ba were too scared to use their swords. On the other side Kang, Zhang, Yao, Li, Guo Shen and Zhi Jian threw the straw-headed gods into an assault on the Water Curtain Cave, with the dogs and eagles unleashed and their bows and crossbows drawn. This attack put the four monkey generals to flight, and two or three thousand devils were captured. The monkeys threw away their spears, tore off their armour, abandoned their swords and halberds, and fled screaming. Some went up the mountain and some returned to the cave, like roosting birds frightened by an owl, or stars scattered across the sky. That is all we have to say about the sworn brothers' victory.
The story goes on to tell how the True Lord Erlang and the Great Sage, having turned themselves into figures on the scale of Heaven and Earth, were locked in battle when the Great Sage was suddenly appalled to notice that the monkey fiends in his camp had scattered in terror. Putting off his magic appearance he broke away and fled, his cudgel in his hand. Seeing him go, the True Lord Erlang hurried after him with long strides.
“Where are you going?” he asked. “If you surrender at once, your life will be spared.” The Great Sage, who had no heart left for the fight, was running as fast as he could. As he approached the mouth of the cave he came up against Marshals Kang, Zhang, Yao and Li, as well as Generals Guo Shen and Zhi Jian, blocking his way at the head of their armies.
“Where are you going, damned monkey?” they asked, and the Great Sage hastily squeezed his gold-banded cudgel till it was the size of an embroidery needle and hid it in his ear. Then he shook himself, turned into a sparrow, flew up into a tree, and perched on one of its branches.
The six sworn brothers looked for him very hard but could find him nowhere, so they all shouted in unison, “The monkey fiend has escaped, the monkey fiend has escaped.”
As they were shouting the True Lord Erlang arrived and asked them, “Brothers, where had you chased him to when he disappeared?”
“We had him surrounded here just now, but he vanished.” Erlang opened his phoenix eyes till they were quite round and looked about him. He saw that the Great Sage had changed himself into a sparrow and was perching on a branch; so he put off his magical appearance, threw down his divine trident, and took the pellet bow from his waist. Then he shook himself, changed into a kite, spread his wings, and swooped in to attack. As soon as the Great Sage saw this he took off and turned himself into a big cormorant, soaring up into the sky. Erlang saw him, and with a quick shake of his feathers and a twist of his body he transformed himself into a crane and pierced the clouds as he tried to catch him. The Great Sage landed on a mountain stream and, changing into a fish, plunged into the water. Erlang, who had pursued him to the bank of the stream, could see no trace of him.
“That macaque must have gone into the water and changed himself into some kind of fish or shrimp,” he thought. “I'll transform myself again, then I'll get him.” He turned into a fish-hawk and soared above the lower reaches of the stream and the first waves of the sea. He waited there for a time. Meanwhile the Great Sage, who was in the form of a fish, swam with the stream until he noticed a bird flying above him. It was quite like a blue kite, except that its feathers were not blue; it was quite like an egret, but it had no crest on its head; and it was quite like a stork, but its legs were not red.
“That must be what Erlang turned himself into while waiting for me,” he thought, turned round quickly, and went away.
“The fish who turned round,” thought Erlang when he saw this, “is like a carp but its tail isn't red; it's like a mandarin fish, but I can't see the pattern on its scales; it's like a snakehead, but without a star on its head; and like a bream, but it has no needles on its gills. Why did it turn round the moment it saw me? It must be that monkey transformed.” He swooped down and snapped at the Great Sage with his beak. The Great Sage leapt out of the water, turned into a water-snake, swam to the bank, and slid into the grass. Failing to catch the fish in his beak, Erlang saw a snake jump out of the water and realized it was the Great Sage. He changed himself at once into a red-crested grey crane, and stretched out his long beak that was like a pair of pointed pincers to eat up the water-snake. The snake gave a jump and became a bustard standing stiffly on a smartweed-covered bank. When Erlang saw that he had turned himself into so low a creature-for the bustard is the lowest and lewdest of birds, not caring whether it mates with phoenix, eagle or crow-he kept his distance, reverted to his own body, went away to fetch and load his pellet bow, and knocked him flying with a single shot.