How the Monkey King escaped the underworld Shunan Teng
In the depths
of their underwater kingdom,
the mighty Dragon Lords
quaked with fear.
Before them pranced Sun Wukong,
the Monkey King.
The legendary troublemaker been hatched
from a stone, schooled in divine magic,
and was currently brandishing
the Dragon Lord’s most treasured weapon.
This magical staff,
originally large enough to measure
the depth of a great flood,
now obeyed the Monkey King’s will
and shrank at his touch.
Terrified of this bewildering power,
the Dragons graciously allowed
Sun Wukong to keep the staff.
The Monkey King stowed the weapon away,
and gleefully sped back to his kingdom
to show this treasure
to his tribe of warrior monkeys.
After a lavish celebration,
Sun Wukong fell into a deep sleep.
But just as he began to dream,
the Monkey King
quickly realized two things.
The first was that
this was no ordinary slumber.
The second was that he wasn’t alone.
Suddenly, he found himself caught
in the clutches of two grisly figures.
At first the Monkey King didn’t know
who his captors were.
But as they dragged him toward
their city’s gates,
Sun Wukong realized
his deathly predicament.
These were soul collectors
tasked with transporting mortals
to the Realm of the Dead.
This was the domain of the Death Lords,
who mercilessly sorted souls
and designed gruesome punishments.
From here, the kingdom of death
was laid out before him.
He could see the Death Lord’s palaces,
and the fabled bridge
across the river Nai He.
Manning the bridge was an old woman
who offered worthy souls a bowl of soup.
After drinking, the spirits
forgot their previous life,
and were sent back to the world
of the living in a new form.
Further below were the souls
not worthy of reincarnation.
In this twisting maze of chambers,
unfortunate spirits endured
endless rooms of punishment—
from mountains spiked with sharp blades,
to pools of blood and vats of boiling oil.
But Sun Wukong was not about to accept
torture or reincarnation.
As the soul collectors attempted to drag
him through the gates,
the Monkey King whipped out his staff
and swung himself out of their clutches.
His battle cries and the clang of weapons
echoed throughout the underworld.
Sensing a disturbance,
the ten Death Lords swooped upon him.
But they had never met such resistance
from a mortal soul.
What was this unusual creature?
And was he a mortal, a god—
or something else?
The Lords consulted
the Book of Death and Life—
a tome which showed the time
of every living soul’s death.
Not knowing what category
this strange being was under,
the Death Lords struggled
to find Sun Wukong at first;
but the Monkey King
knew just where to look.
Unfortunately, the records confirmed
the Death Lord’s claim—
Sun Wukong was scheduled
to die this very night.
But the Monkey King was not afraid.
This was far from the first time
he’d defied destiny
in his quest for wisdom and power.
His past rebellions had earned him
the power to transfigure his body,
ride clouds at dizzying speeds, and govern
his tribe with magic and martial arts.
In this crisis,
he saw yet another opportunity.
With a flash of his nimble fingers,
the Monkey King struck
his own name from the Book.
Before the Death Lords could respond,
he found the names of his monkey tribe
and swept them away as well.
Liberated from the bonds of death,
Sun Wukong began to battle
his way out of the underworld.
He deftly defeated endless swarms
of angry spirits—
before tripping on his way
out of the kingdom.
Just before he hit the ground,
Sun Wukong suddenly awoke in his bed.
At first he thought the journey
might have been a dream,
but the Monkey King felt
his new immortality surging
from the top of his head
to the tip of his tail.
With a cry of triumph, he woke his
warriors to share his latest adventure—
and commence another round
of celebration.