Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 1-2 | Page 240
New Journeys to the West
Dulwich College Beijing, Trivedi, Suvarn - 11
T
he vast far flung desert, coated completely with bitter snow seems to be endless, stretching on for
miles and miles. I have been trudging on for many exhausting days, tiring my scrawny knees,
causing blistering rashes everywhere. Glistening beetle-black eyes belonging to my deceased
grandfather Xuan Zang stare at me through the smeared, fractured glass of a photograph kept in my
rucksack. He inspires me, with his daring journey across colossal mountain ranges and deserts. A few weeks
ago, I foolishly made the decision to make a trip from my hometown, Nalanda, to China along the very
same path that my great grandfather had taken. But, the many deserts he had gone through were now just
glaciers. And I never knew how much the feeling of regret, the thought to give up and go back would
overcome me. I know I have to go on, to ignore everything and focus, but now I do not feel the same as
before.
Little lumps of snow harshly plummet from the overcast clouds, and I immediately know what it is. A
blizzard. Cursing under my hazy breath, I footslog forward, frigid wind whipping my sullen face. A large
patch of dry leaves is located directly in front of me, each one placed precisely next to each other, and I
immediately know something is wrong. Leaves in the winter? This is not right. I look to my left and right,
but hills stretch on and on in that area, so I must head forward. Cautiously, I walk on to the strip of dried
leaves, but the ground gives way beneath me, and I plummet down. I land on bleak snow that cushions my
landing, then spring up to my feet. Someone had set that trap for me. But who? There is no one in this
lifeless, uninhabited area. And how could they have possibly known the exact path I was travelling? I gaze
around the deep, dim trench. There are two rocks in one corner and a metal groove pokes out of the jagged
ground. The walls are too steep to climb, and there is not a chance I can jump out. Abruptly, a thumping
noise comes from just outside the trap. A massive looming figure leaps into the trench. In the little light that
allows me to see, I can distinguish its features. It looks like a she, and is dressed completely in black, with a
flowing black dress, and a beautiful black robe. Pale and chalky white, a little skin could be seen under her
clothes.
"Well, well, well, look what we have here.” Her voice is high pitched and raspy; it feels like nails on a
chalkboard.
“W-w-who are y-you?" I stutter as I am deathly afraid of her.
"I, am the great Báig ǔ j ī ng ! When your cowardly great grandfather made his expedition, I wanted to eat his
flesh. But he and his stupid monkey ruined it all. So, I am here to get revenge!" I backed up against the
solid, musty walls, nicking my lower forearm on the metal groove. Blood splatters the ground, and I grimace
in pain.
“Lousy mortal, I will finish you in no time!” she bellows, shaking all sides of the pit. Ignoring the pain in
my arm, I hastily get back up; she has already locked her pale eyes on my body. Unanticipatedly, all 10 feet
of her lunge at me, sharp claws emerging from her inhumanly hands. I dodge the blow and swiftly roll over
onto a rough, uneven rock.
"Báig ǔ j ī ng…” I rack my head trying to translate the name from the little Chinese I was taught at school.
In spur of the moment, I remembered. Báig ǔ j ī ng is the ‘White Bone Demon’ that tried to murder my
grandfather and S ū nwùk ō ng, the monkey king. She brutally tortures and murders anyone that she captures; I
know that the only reason that my great-grandfather escaped was he was a well-taught Buddhist monk
with the help of an omnipotent, clever monkey. To simplify things, I am going to die. There is no way out
of this. I jerk to the side, panting heavily. Glaring at my terrified face, she dashes at me once again with her
bloodshot eyes. I make a helpless try to dart out of the way, however her deadly pincers grab the hem of my
sweat-filled robe, tearing it right off my defenseless body. From side to side, I sloppily duck her punches,
until I see something in the distance. It is someone standing near the top of the dike, beyond view of
Báig ǔ j ī ng. Losing my focus, the last thing I see is a massive fist heading straight for my head.