The King of Huai Nan

The King of Huai Nan is a scholar-prince of the Han dynasty in this legend. Because royal blood ran in his veins, the emperor had granted him a kingdom of his own to rule. He loved the company of learned men, could read omens and foretell what was to come, and with his scholars he had put together the book that carries his name.

One day eight old men arrived at his gate, every one of them white-haired and white-bearded. The gatekeeper announced them. The King wanted to test them, so he sent the gatekeeper back to make it hard for them to get in. “Our King is trying to learn the art of living forever,” the gatekeeper told them. “You gentlemen are old and frail. What help could you be to him? There is no need for you to call.”

The eight old men smiled. “Oh? So we are too old for you? Then we will make ourselves young!” Before the words were out of their mouths they had turned into boys of fourteen or fifteen, their hair-knots black as silk and their cheeks pink as peach blossom. The frightened gatekeeper ran straight to the King with the news. The King did not even stop to put on his shoes. He rushed out barefoot to welcome them, led them into the palace, had brocade rugs spread and ivory couches set up for them, burned sweet herbs, and placed tables of gold and jewels before them. Then he bowed to them as a pupil bows to a teacher and told them how happy he was that they had come.

The eight boys turned back into old men. “Do you wish to study with us, O King?” they said. “Each of us has mastered his own art. The first can call up wind and rain, gather clouds and mist, make rivers run and mountains heave up, just as he pleases. The second can split tall mountains and stop great rivers in their courses; he can tame tigers and panthers and calm snakes and dragons, and spirits and gods obey him. The third can send out copies of himself, change into other shapes, become invisible, make whole armies vanish and turn day into night. The fourth can walk on air and clouds and stroll over the waves, pass through walls and rocks, and travel a thousand miles in one breath. The fifth can walk into fire and not burn, into water and not drown; winter frost cannot chill him and summer heat cannot scorch him. The sixth can make living things and change them as he likes, shaping birds and beasts, grass and trees, and he can move houses and castles from place to place. The seventh can bake lime until it becomes gold and boil lead until it becomes silver, and he can mix water and stone so that the bubbles foam up and harden into pearls. The eighth can ride dragons and cranes to the eight ends of the earth, talk with the immortals and stand before the Great Pure One.”

The King kept them at his side from dawn to dusk, entertained them, and had them show him their skills. Sure enough, they could do everything they had claimed. With their help he began to distill the elixir of life.

The elixir was ready, but the King had not yet drunk it, when trouble struck his family. His son had been playing with a courtier, and the courtier had carelessly wounded him. Afraid that the prince would punish him, the courtier joined other malcontents and stirred up a rebellion. When the emperor heard of it, he sent one of his generals to judge between the King and the rebels.

“Now it is time to leave,” said the eight old men. “Heaven has sent you this misfortune, O King. Without it you would never have found the will to give up the splendor and glory of this world.”

They led him up a mountain. There they offered sacrifices to heaven and buried gold in the ground, and then, in broad daylight, they rose into the sky. The footprints of the eight old men and the King were pressed into the mountain rock, the legend says.

Before they left the palace, though, they had set out what remained of the elixir in the courtyard. The hens pecked at it and the dogs licked it up, and all of them flew up into the sky. The tale imagines heavenly crowing and barking as the sounds of the animals that followed the King.

One of the King’s servants followed him as far as an island in the sea, and the King sent him home from there. The servant reported that the King had not yet gone up into heaven; he had only become immortal and was wandering about the world. When the emperor heard this, he bitterly regretted having sent soldiers into the King’s land and driving him away. He called in magicians, hoping to meet the eight old men himself. But though he spent enormous sums, he had no success. The magicians only cheated him.

About this story

“The King of Huai Nan” is chapter XXXVI of Richard Wilhelm’s The Chinese Fairy Book, translated by Frederick H. Martens (New York: Frederick A. Stokes, 1921), among his “Tales of Saints and Magicians.”

Wilhelm’s note says the King was a real man, Liu An of the Han dynasty, who drew many magicians to his court; their work is collected in the philosophical book that bears his name, the Huainanzi. He lived in the time of Emperor Wu. Wilhelm explains that the historical Liu An took part in a plot that was discovered, and that he died in 122 B.C.; the fairy tale turns those events into a legend of escape into immortality.

Read the original: The Chinese Fairy Book (Project Gutenberg)

Best for ages 9–12 — eight shape-shifting masters, a magic elixir and a king who leaves the world behind.

Reading the story closely

The gatekeeper judges the teachers by age; the king changes his welcome when they display power. The ending repeats the desire to obtain extraordinary teachers, but the emperor’s money brings only impostors. Wealth can stage a lavish reception without ensuring that the claims being purchased are true.

Sort the eight powers into changing nature, changing bodies and crossing barriers; some fit more than one group. Then compare the king’s welcome, the animals’ accidental share and the emperor’s failed search. The elixir reaches more beings than the royal plan intended. Its metals and mixtures are fantasy, not instructions for making medicine.

Think about it

• How do the eight old men answer the gatekeeper’s rudeness?
• Which of the eight masters’ powers would you most like to have, and why?
• Why do the old men say the King’s misfortune was really a gift from heaven?

Related stories

• Sky O’Dawn — a magical adviser at the court of the same Emperor Wu
• The Kindly Magician — another brewing of the elixir of life
• The Eight Immortals (I) — more Chinese masters of magic and long life