Taoist Master Zhang Guolao: The Eccentric Immortal Who Rode Backwards
Beneath mist-covered peaks, an old man moseys along a narrow path riding a donkey—but he sits backward, facing its tail. Villagers watch in bewilderment as he passes with his tattered clothes and soft, carefree laugh. This is Master Zhang Guolao, one of the Eight Immortals of Taoism—legendary figures said to have achieved enlightenment through their own unique ways.
Of all Eight Immortals, Master Zhang became one of the most frequently depicted in Chinese art and literature. Through these and countless retellings, he emerges as an archetypal Taoist immortal: wise, whimsical, and unfettered by ordinary life.
An Elusive Sage
During the Tang Dynasty, around the seventh, or perhaps eighth century, word of a wise and cheerful Taoist recluse spread beyond the valleys he roamed. When news of his good deeds and miraculous powers reached the capital, multiple Tang emperors sought his counsel. Yet Master Zhang refused each imperial invitation, preferring solitude in the mountains.
Even the formidable Empress Wu Zetian could not command him. Pressed to appear before her, the old immortal supposedly collapsed on the road and “died.” His body decayed within hours—until, not long after, travelers spotted him alive and well back in the mountains. For Master Zhang, death was just another illusion to shed at will.
Years later, Emperor Tang Xuanzong begged him to visit the palace. This time, Master Zhang agreed and rode to the palace on his magical donkey, an animal said to travel a thousand miles in a day. When the immortal arrived at the capital, he magically transformed the donkey into a piece of paper, folded the creature up, and tucked it away.
At the palace, the emperor found his guest both amusing and mystifying. When invited to drink, Master Zhang warned that he could handle little wine but had a “disciple” who could drink much more. He clapped his hands, and from the palace rafters descended a young man. The “disciple” drank cup after cup until, to everyone’s astonishment, he suddenly transformed into a golden goblet brimming with wine. Master Zhang chuckled, “My disciple has become what he drank.”
After entertaining the royal court, the old immortal pulled out the small paper donkey from his satchel and, with a gentle puff of breath, the donkey sprang to life. Master Zhang then distracted the emperor and his courtiers, took his leave of the palace, and flew off on his donkey into the clouds, his laughter fading in the wind.
Why backwards?
In paintings and sculptures, Master Zhang is instantly recognizable—a jovial old man riding backward on his donkey. The image is playful, yet it carries profound meaning.
Riding backward, Master Zhang turns away from the clamor of ambition and the pursuit of personal gain. He moves against the current of the mundane world, reminding us that the way to true freedom lies not in worldly pursuits, but in letting go—returning to simplicity, stillness, and one’s original purity.
This classic story is retold in Shen Yun’s 2026 dance The Legend of Master Zhang Guolao.
