Little Journey to the West 020

I was originally a carp, and because of my gluttony I was hooked by a fisherman.

Fortunately, I ran into a Taoist priest. Seeing how large I was, he sighed at how hard it is to cultivate and spent every last coin he had to buy me, then released me into a river full of mud and sand.

It took me a long while to realize—was this priest just messing with me?

What kind of fish could survive in a river like that?

But I was wrong. I really could survive. All the way until I became a demon, I never saw another of my kind in that river.

To get food, I could only attack the animals that came to the riverbank to drink.

Later on, it seemed the humans were fighting each other, and quite a few corpses washed into the river. I took a bite. Honestly, it didn't taste good. But after thinking it over, I picked out a few skulls and strung them into a necklace around my neck. That way, I'd look a lot fiercer too.

That trick was taught to me by a passing demon. He said that someone like me would easily get captured by those monks and Taoists. He talked in a very exaggerated way, saying even their great king had been stuffed into a jar by some monk. I believed him.

A few days later, I really did see a monk poking his head around the riverbank. Behind him stood a monkey and a horse.

I got scared. Maybe he had come for me. So I decided to strike first.

But I never expected that monkey to react so fast.

Yet, surprisingly, they didn't kill me. Instead, the monk told me to carry their luggage, saying something about the horse having too much to carry and being tired.

I figured there was no problem with that.

As long as they didn't eat me.

The monk called himself Tripitaka. I thought they were a bit crazy—they'd always be talking to an empty patch of air for no reason. That was kind of creepy. Even though I'm a fish, I can still get scared.

It wasn't until the old fox joined us later that he quietly told me there had always been a ghost among us.

I knew that. But when I tried to ask the old fox about it, he'd suddenly look all confused, like he'd lost his memory.

But he clearly saw them talking to the air as well.

Later on I understood—the old fox was clever. He pretended not to see what he saw and pretended not to hear what he shouldn't hear.

I could never learn that trick.

The monk and the others called me Sha Wujing. I don't really understand what that means, but it's the first name I ever had, so it's pretty good.

After that, days passed following them around. At first, the monk wanted me to act as bait, but the Great Sage Equaling Heaven thought I was too dull, so that task finally fell to the old fox.

I was still the one carrying the luggage. Except the luggage kept growing. They always took all sorts of strange treasures from those demon dens. For a while, I was pretty satisfied, because at last the horse was carrying things too, same as me.

The old fox said I was dumb, that I didn't create any value, and that if some other demon caught me one day, they probably wouldn't bother to rescue me.

I didn't care about that. Long as I followed the monk and got enough to eat, that was fine.

Listening to them talk along the way, I could never get a word in. I just hung my head and chuckled a few times, but that joke they'd told had been ages ago.

That night, watching that celestial being drifting in the sky, there was only one question in my head: white clothes get dirty so easily—does that immortal change clothes every single day?

The poor soul who has to be her laundress is really screwed.

We rarely changed our own clothes, so I had a light workload myself.

Later on, I didn't catch what the monk and the others were saying, then I just watched that goldfish get crushed to death by Tripitaka's hand. I felt a twinge of regret—not for the goldfish, but because the goldfish probably tasted pretty good.

And then I felt the celestial being getting angry. So after the Great Sage, I too raised my staff.

You can kill me, but you can't smash my rice bowl.

Luckily, that celestial being was quite magnanimous. She didn't hold it against us and left, even giving us a couple of words of praise.

Though the old fox said that wasn't praise.

Then I learned the celestial being's name—Guanyin.

That rang a bell. I remembered then, I'd heard that name before.

The old fox looked worried, but unlike him, the monk patted my shoulder, and the Great Sage did the same. They didn't say a word, but I felt pretty happy inside.

Maybe I wasn't just the old fox's pack mule anymore.

But all in all, I'm still grateful to the old fox. When I felt like I was about to die of thirst, he ran off, then came running back and doused me with all the water he had, cursing all the while as he laid me over the horse and carried the horse along as he ran.

To be honest, I've seen a person riding a horse, and I've seen demons riding horses, but a horse riding a fox? That was a first.

But I couldn't laugh—I was too dry. Any laugh would pull at my mouth and sting.

That horse was lucky to travel with us. Most of the time, its back was empty. The old fox just led it by the reins. Compared with the monk, the horse seemed more like the one on a pilgrimage.

The old fox asked me if I smelled the scent of blood drifting on the wind. I did.

And then that madman grabbed me and jumped off a cliff.

Thank goodness, I didn't die from the fall.

But by the time he carried me there on his back, I witnessed a truly awful sight.

The monk was sitting on top of a huge tiger's head, staring impatiently at a stone statue of a bodhisattva. Half the statue's face had crumbled away.

The old fox turned to look at me, and I understood—the monk must be having another one of his spells.

Because otherwise, he wouldn't be spitting at a stone statue.

When he saw us, the monk didn't seem surprised. He just ordered the old fox to gather the food and water that the demons had stored up, while the Great Sage stared at the statue, deep in thought.

I craned my neck for a look. Behind the monk, the temple was filled with headless corpses.

Those bastards were daring, I'll give them that. Even if they'd caught the old fox or me, they wouldn't have ended up like that. But did they really think they could mess with that monk?

That night, the monk and the Great Sage talked for a long time. The old fox went back to find the horse. I lay there, half-asleep.

Then the monk suddenly poked me and asked if I wanted to go home.

I shook my head. Go home for what? Eat more sand?

The monk said things were about to get really troublesome, then went on with a long speech.

But I couldn't follow it, so I just stared at him blankly.

The Great Sage said, "Enough. You are its tribulation. If it gets through this, it will have made it."

I looked at them in confusion. They looked back at me, and then we all laughed together.

But when I woke up the next day, the old fox was gone.

The horse had come back, though—it was tethered right next to me.

I spotted the old fox's treasured map lying under my head too. After thinking about it, I tucked it away for him.

I didn't ask where he'd gone. When the monk said we set off, I just got up and led the horse.

Strangely enough, there'd been a heavy rain in that desert the night before. My body no longer felt so parched.

We carried on down the western road, and finally saw signs of people again. That made me excited. But something strange happened—when we passed by the place called Five Villages Monastery, the Great Sage asked to stay the night, but the monk didn't even hesitate. He grabbed us and ran.

That's right—he ran.