The Monkey King's Revolt at the Celestial Peach Festival

Yet the Great Sage Equalling Heaven was, after all, a monkey sprite. Day after day he idled through the celestial realms, dining thrice at leisure, sleeping through the night without worldly cares. When whim took him, he wandered among stars and befriended immortals. To the Three Pure Ones he cried "Old Sages!"; to the Four Emperors he hailed "Your Majesties!" With the Nine Luminaries, Five Firmament Generals, Twenty-Eight Constellations, and Four Heavenly Kings, he claimed brotherhood—never bowing to titles. Thus he roamed the Eastern skies and dallied in the West.

Observing this, the Taoist Sage Xu Jingyang approached the Jade Emperor: "The Great Sage idles without purpose, forging bonds among heaven's officials. Idleness breeds mischief. Best occupy him with duty." Summoning the monkey, the Emperor decreed: "We see you walk in idleness. Henceforth, you shall guard the Garden of Immortal Peaches. Tend it well." The Sage, delighted, bowed in thanks and swept toward the orchard.

There the Earth God of the garden marshaled his forces—Tree-Trimmers, Water-Bearers, Peach-Pruners—to greet their new master. "Three thousand six hundred trees grow here," he proclaimed. "The first twelve hundred bear pale fruit ripening every three millennia; a single taste grants immortality. The middle grove yields sweetness every six millennia—consumption brings eternal youth. The last trees, with amber stones, fruit once in nine millennia; those who eat them live as long as heaven and earth." Having surveyed the groves, the Sage withdrew. Thereafter he inspected every few days, forsaking other amusements.

Then came the day when peaches glowed ripe upon the boughs. Craving their freshness, he commanded the garden stewards: "Wait beyond the gate while I rest in this pavilion." Scaling a tree heavy with fruit, he plucked the choicest gold-and-crimson orbs and feasted. Sated, he leaped down—only to return and steal more days later.

At dawn one morning, the Queen Mother commanded her Rainbow Maidens—robed in vermilion, azure, moon-white, ebony, violet, saffron, and emerald—to gather peaches for her Peach Banquet in the Jasper Pool. Arriving with baskets, they found the Earth God guarding the gate. "The Great Sage governs here," he cautioned. "We must seek his leave." "Where is he?" asked the maidens. "Weary from play, he slumbers in the pavilion," came the reply. Yet when they entered, the pavilion stood empty—for the Sage, after gorging on peaches, had shrunk to two inches and napped in a leafy canopy. "Gather what you can," the Earth God urged.

They plucked two baskets from the front grove, three from the middle trees. But at the rear orchard, only green fruit hung—the ripe ones devoured by the monkey king. Spying one peach blushing half-red, half-white, a maiden reached—and startled the sleeping Sage on that very branch!

Instantly resuming true form, he drew the golden-hooped rod from his ear and thundered: "What demons dare steal my peaches?" Trembling, the seven knelt: "Great Sage, mercy! The Queen Mother sends us for her banquet." His wrath melted into delight: "Fair ones, rise! Whom does she invite?" "By ancient custom: Buddha and Bodhisattvas; Guanyin of the South; Holy Emperors of East and North; the Yellow-Horned Immortal of the Center; Star Lords of Five Directions; Three Pure Ones and Four Emperors from upper realms; Jade Emperor from mid-heaven; hell's rulers from below..." "And I?" he interrupted. "None spoke your name." "I am the Great Sage Equalling Heaven! Why not invite Old Sun?" "The guest list follows tradition," they murmured. "So be it," he laughed. "Wait here while I inquire."

With a spell—"Halt!"—he froze the maidens mid-motion, their eyes wide, baskets at their feet beneath the peach trees.

Riding a cloud to the Jasper Pool, he found the banquet yet unfilled—but the scent of celestial wine perfumed the air. Bearers were filling vats in the long gallery. Salivating, the Sage plucked hairs, chewed them, and blew transformed sleep-mites onto the laborers' faces. They slumped, snoring. Seizing delicacies, he plunged his face into a wine-vat and drank deep. Drunkenness soon claimed him: "Best... return... to sleep this off..."

Staggering through clouds, he blundered into the Tushita Palace. "Laozi's domain?" he hiccuped. "Well met!" Inside, all was still—the Lord Lao discoursed in high chambers, attended by disciples. Spying five gourds by the elixir furnace, brimming with golden pills, the Sage exulted: "Treasures of immortality! While the old man's away..." He swallowed every pill like candied beans.

Sobering abruptly, dread seized him: "This crime means death. Flee to my mountain kingdom!" Invisible, he shot through the heavens toward Flower-Fruit Mountain.

His monkeys greeted him with spear drills. "Children! Your king returns!" In the cave, his generals asked: "What office did Heaven grant?" Grinning, he confessed: "They named me Great Sage, gave me a palace and charge of the Peach Garden. But when the Queen Mother excluded me from her feast, I tasted her wines and delicacies—then stumbled upon Laozi's pills and ate them all. Fearing execution, I fled." Cheers erupted; monkey-wine flowed. He spat it out: "Swill! The Jade Pool holds nectar beyond dreams. I'll fetch it—you shall taste eternal life!"

Back to the Jasper Pool he soared. The wine-bearers still slept. Seizing two great jars, he whirled homeward. The cave became a celestial banquet hall.

Suddenly a scout shrieked: "Heaven's armies darken the sky!" For the Jade Emperor, enraged by the thefts, had sent the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King, Prince Nezha, Four Great Kings, and Twenty-Eight Constellations with one hundred thousand soldiers to encase the mountain in nets of lightning.

The Nine Malefic Stars advanced first, bellowing at the cave mouth: "Thieving stablehand! Tenfold your crimes: stolen peaches, plundered wine, ruined banquet, swallowed elixirs! Surrender!" The Sage roared back: "Maggots of heaven! Dare you challenge me? Taste your grandfather Sun's rod!" As nine stars became nine warriors leaping forth, the Monkey King whirled his staff—parrying, thrusting—until the exhausted stars fled.

Then charged the Four Kings and constellations. From dawn till dusk they battled. As twilight fell, the Sage spat transformed hairs into a thousand clones, each wielding a golden rod. Heaven's host broke.

Victorious, he recalled his doubles. In his cave, wine flowed anew—while Heavenly King Li tightened the nets of war, awaiting dawn's assault. What followed? The next chapter will reveal...