Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 3 2018 | Page 204

“You killed my wife and granddaughter didn’t you! Give them back to me! How could you do this, they
were my only surviving family! Give them back!” He shouted, enraged. Wu Kong smirked, no disguise
could fool his refined eyes. Xuan Zang looked lost, no knowing what to defend himself with.
This time, Wu Kong hit her right on the middle of the skull with all of his strength, guaranteed that she
would not reincarnate as that wicked spirit again. Even though Wu Kong had protected his master from
unknown danger, Xuan Zang has reached his last straw.
“Get out! I don’t want to see or hear you anymore! You are a disgrace to the Buddha and me, how I wished
I never took you as my apprentice!” Xuan Zang’s face turned red, veins nearly popping out and he looked
like he could almost combust. Wu Kong could only hand his head low in abashment and mortification, as a
pang of unjust rushed over him.
“Go back to wherever you came from, we don’t welcome you here anymore!” Pigsy shouted over the
wind, saddling Yulong the horse and helping Xuan Zang onto him. As they galloped off into the distance,
Wu Kong walked aimlessly, drifting in a disoriented way with a forlorn expression. He was just trying to
help, Wu Kong screamed out in his mind, but then he got cut off by a striking pain on the back of his head.
When he came to, Wu Kong was in shackles, his wrists raw and bruised from the rusty metal rubbing
against his skin. A nicely dressed skeleton was making its way over screeching in a grating voice,
“I will take the flesh of your master, at any cost! It’s much easier to harm him without you there.” Wu
Kong’s feeble attempt at escaping didn’t go unnoticed, his drowsy mind getting hazier and his heavy eyelids
threatening to fall down as the skeleton cackled at his sluggish endeavor to evade her.
His heart burning in anger, chagrin and renewed vigor, Wu Kong summoned up the last of his strength, his
devotion and care for Xuan Zang and the others, bursting out in a blinding light as the malevolent demoness
screamed in excruciating agony. Xuan Zang appeared in front of Wu Kong, his eyes immediately softening
as he connected the pieces in his mind – an injured Wu Kong, with a burnt skeleton on the ground.
“Master...promise me, you’ll...take the manuscripts...and achieve...Buddhahood...” Wu Kong took in a last
shaky breath and his eyes fluttered shut, and Xuan Zang cried out in grief and anguish, despair flooding his
heart.
The death of his disciple Wu Kong, motivated him even further to fulfill Wu Kong’s dying wish, and to
beseech the Buddha to revive him for what he’s done for the kingdom and for Xuan Zang. Even though
traveling to India the rest of the way was not easy with his strongest apprentice gone, he finally made it, and
fell on his knees, pleading for his resuscitation.
“Guanyin, please revive my apprentice! He died selflessly to save me...”
A white beam of light pierced his eyes, and he waved a sleeve to cover his eyes. An illuminated shape
stepped out, glancing at his arms and surroundings.
“Master?”