Wukong remained trapped inside the golden cymbals. The darkness was absolute, and the heat became so suffocating that sweat soon covered his entire body.
Monkey King‘s Struggles
He tried to push them apart with his incredibly strong arms, but he couldn’t separate them even by a ten-thousandth of a millimeter.
Intrigued, he grabbed his iron staff and struck them wildly as if gone mad, but not even a single scratch appeared on their surface. He then decided to resort to magic.
He recited an incantation and instantly grew to a height greater than forty meters; however, the cymbals expanded along with him, allowing not even a single ray of light to pass through.
He made another magical gesture and shrank himself to a size much smaller than a mustard seed. The cymbals shrank with him, making any attempt at escape completely impossible.
The Monkey King once again picked up his iron staff, blew sacred breath onto it, and shouted:
“Transform!”
Immediately, it turned into a pole that fit precisely into the ends of the cymbals. Then he pulled out two hairs from his head and, after performing the same magical process as with the iron staff, transformed them into a strange five-pronged tool resembling a plum blossom. With this device, he attempted to bore a hole exactly at the point where the iron pole was pressing against the cymbals.
But after trying more than a thousand times in succession, he failed to make even a single mark on the gold.
Divine Intervention
It was nearly the second watch of the night. The demon attendants had just received rewards from their master for capturing the Tang Monk and were beginning to retire to their quarters.
Suddenly, Wukong heard a voice from outside the cymbals saying:
“We are the Twenty-Eight Constellations, and we have come to rescue you by direct order of the Jade Emperor.”
Hopeful, the Monkey King pleaded:
“Quickly break this prison with your weapons. I’m dying to get out of here.”
The stars replied:
“We cannot do that. This is made of metal. As soon as we touch it, it will start vibrating, and the monster will awaken. That would greatly hinder our mission. We will try to drill a hole instead. As soon as you see even the slightest ray of light, escape from this prison.”
“Agreed,” replied the Monkey King.
Then the Constellations took out their spears, swords, sabers, and axes and began striking the cymbals from all directions. The third watch sounded, and they continued pounding away, but the golden pieces still refused to separate. It was as if they had always formed a single, unified whole.
Inside, the Monkey King repeatedly examined the walls with his hands, yet could detect no hint of light. His impatience drove him even to feel around manually for any crack, but the results were no better.
The Golden Dragon’s Gambit
The Golden Dragon advised him:
“Do not lose hope, Great Sage. I have concluded that these cymbals possess great adaptability and perfectly understand the difficult art of transformation. Feel carefully with your hands for the seam between them. Once you find it, I will use my body as a lever, and you can slip out through the gap. Even if it’s very small, your transforming powers will allow you to pass through easily.”
Sun Wukong immediately got to work. As he carefully searched the edges of the two pieces, the Constellation reduced its own body size so much that its horn was barely larger than the tip of a needle. Soon, Wukong discovered that the seam was located at the top of the sphere imprisoning him.
Gathering all its strength, the Constellation managed to insert its horn and shouted, intending to return to its normal size:
“Grow!”
The horn expanded to the thickness of a rice bowl, but instead of acting like metal, the cymbals behaved as though they were made of flesh and skin. The horn of the Golden Dragon seemed submerged in a gelatinous mass, making it impossible to apply the slightest pressure.
Escape through Ingenuity
Desperate, the Monkey King felt the horn with his hands and said:
“It’s useless. There’s no crack at all. I’m afraid that if you really intend to pull me out of here, you’ll have to endure some pain.”
Using his iron staff, he made a small hole at the tip of the horn, then transformed himself into a mustard seed and slipped inside, shouting with all his might:
“Now! Pull the horn!”
The Constellation struggled with all its might, finally achieving its goal with great difficulty.
So exhausted was it that it collapsed to the ground, panting like a burdened animal.
Wukong smashed the cymbals
Wukong then emerged from the horn and, after regaining his usual size, unleashed a tremendous blow upon the cymbals with his iron rod.
It was as if a mountain of copper had collapsed or a gold mine had exploded. What had once been one of Buddha’s most treasured possessions was instantly reduced to tiny golden fragments.
The Twenty-Eight Constellations were so startled that their hair stood on end.
The noise also alerted the demons, who opened their eyes wide in shock. Even the monster himself was jolted from his peaceful sleep. It was near dawn when they rushed to the hall where they had left the Monkey King imprisoned.
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