Chapter 14: The Eldest Senior Brother Is Truly Wicked

Now, after Elder Jinchi had tricked the treasure cap into his hands, he sat alone in the back room under the oil lamp, gazing at the radiant, glowing treasure. Overwhelmed with emotion, he burst into uncontrollable sobs. The young novice waiting outside the door, upon hearing this, hurried to inform the monks of Guanyin Monastery. Two monks, who were usually favored by Elder Jinchi, immediately rushed to the back hall upon hearing the news of their patriarch’s weeping.

Elder Jinchi then revealed his long-held desire: he had set his sights on the golden-embroidered cap belonging to Tripitaka Tang and wanted to claim it as his own. Only then did the gathered monks understand the cause of his distress, and they began discussing what to do.

A young monk named Guangzhi was the first to speak, proposing the scheme of killing to seize the treasure. After all, Tang Seng and Hu Rong appeared to be nothing more than two wandering monks—if they died, no one would pursue the matter. Elder Jinchi, delighted by the plan, wiped his tears and praised it heartily, but before any action could be taken, another monk named Guangmou intervened with a more cunning idea that required no bloodshed.

“In my humble opinion, we should gather all the monks in the temple, each carrying a bundle of dry wood. Surround the meditation hall where the two are staying and set it ablaze, ensuring there is no escape. Even their white horse will perish in the flames! Should anyone from the mountains witness the fire, we can simply claim that the Tang monks were careless and accidentally set the temple ablaze during the night. In this way, the two monks will perish in the fire, the truth will be concealed, and the treasure will become our monastery’s heirloom.”

The monks were all delighted by this plan. At Elder Jinchi’s command, over two hundred monks began hauling firewood, piling it around the meditation hall where Tripitaka rested, and dousing it with lamp oil.

Meanwhile, Hu Rong was perched on the eaves, munching on a golden banana as he watched the monks surround the meditation hall with bundles of wood, sealing off every exit.

“Burn it, burn it! I was hoping this would lure out the Black Bear Demon! It’s also a perfect chance to test the power of my invincible brick! But before that, I’ll borrow a handy treasure from the heavens. Ha! Here I go—”

With a somersault, Hu Rong leaped to the South Heaven Gate, startling the celestial marshals on guard. They cried out in alarm, “Oh no! The Monkey who caused havoc in Heaven has returned!”

“Hey, hey! Aren’t you immortals? Can’t you face things with a little more composure? Besides, I’m not here for you—what’s there to be afraid of?” Hu Rong waved his hand dismissively. “Where’s Lord Guangmu?”

“Great Sage!” Lord Guangmu happened to be present. Seeing Hu Rong, he dared not be negligent and hurried over with joined hands. “I’ve just heard that Bodhisattva Guanyin visited the Jade Emperor, borrowing the four duty gods, the Dings, the Jias, and the Ketis, to protect Tang Seng on his journey to the West! It’s said you, Great Sage, became his disciple and follow him westward. How is it you’re at the South Heaven Gate today?”

“Listen, Old Red, spare me the chatter! Tang Seng has run into villains who plan to burn him alive! When I served in Heaven, I remember you owning a Fire-Proof Canopy. Lend it to me for a bit! I’ll return it after the pilgrimage!” Hu Rong purposely slurred the words “after the pilgrimage,” making it sound like something else entirely.

Lord Guangmu didn’t quite catch the first few words, but heard “return it” clearly enough, so he didn’t dwell on it. Puzzled, he asked, “Great Sage, since villains set the fire, shouldn’t you borrow water from the Dragon King to save him? What use is a Fire-Proof Canopy?”

“You blockhead! I was sent by the Buddha to protect Tripitaka on his journey. What do the rest of them have to do with me?” Hu Rong snapped. “Hurry up, or the little monk inside will be roasted like a cicada!”

Realizing this involved the sacred pilgrimage, Lord Guangmu dared not refuse and reluctantly handed over the Fire-Proof Canopy.

“Much obliged, Old Red!” Hu Rong took the canopy, rode a cloud back to the monastery, and covered Tripitaka, the White Dragon Horse, and their luggage with the treasure.

As the monks set the fire, Hu Rong chanted a spell, inhaled from the southeast, and blew a gust across the flames. The blaze roared, not only consuming the meditation hall but, with the wind’s help, igniting the entire Guanyin Monastery in a raging inferno.

“Fire! Fire!” The monks, having failed in their plot, were now terrified as the flames engulfed the whole temple. Only after much chaos did the head monks organize the rescue: carrying boxes, dragging chests, grabbing tables and pots, they braved the smoke and flames to save their valuables, piling them near the well.

Meanwhile, Hu Rong’s Fire-Proof Canopy shielded the meditation hall, but the abbot’s quarters and inner sanctum were devoured by the flames. On that dark, windy night, the crimson fire blazed to the heavens, casting golden light through the walls.

As the entire monastery turned into a sea of fire, twenty miles south, the Black Bear Demon on Black Wind Mountain was woken by the glow. He conjured a black cloud and in a flash arrived at the monastery. Finding the front halls empty and the corridors ablaze, he strode inside, intent on fetching water, but saw that the back rooms were untouched by fire, and not a soul was in sight.

Puzzled, the Black Bear Demon thought the monks must all be fighting the fire. He ventured deeper in and spotted a rainbow-like radiance emanating from the inner sanctum—the golden-embroidered cap atop the altar.

As the saying goes, “Wealth moves the heart”—even demons are not immune. The Black Bear Demon abandoned all thought of firefighting, snatched the cap, transformed into a black cloud, and sped back to Black Wind Cave.

The fire crackled on until dawn, but by then, the great Guanyin Monastery was nothing but ruins. The monks, stripped of all dignity, wept and wailed as they sifted through ashes for metal, poked through charred beams for gold and silver. Some set up makeshift shelters along the walls; others cooked rice by bare, scorched walls, all bemoaning their fate in a chaotic din—Buddhist composure utterly lost.

At this moment, Tripitaka awoke, dressed, and stepped outside. At the sight of toppled red walls and broken bricks, he was stunned. “Wukong, what happened here?”

“It seems there was a fire last night that burned the entire monastery to the ground,” Hu Rong replied, tucking the Fire-Proof Canopy into his robe without a thought of returning it.

“How could this be? I didn’t hear a thing!” Tripitaka exclaimed in shock.

“Your disciple flew to the heavens to borrow a treasure from a friend and used it to protect the meditation hall! Since you were sleeping soundly, I didn’t wake you.” Here, Hu Rong suddenly whimpered, “Alas! Your disciple regrets not being able to save the other rooms. Woe is me... Pressed under Five Elements Mountain for five hundred years, most of my power is lost! I barely managed to save you, Master—that was all I could do!”

“Ah, Wukong, you’ve done well!” Tripitaka, seeing tears in his disciple’s eyes, softened. “It’s not your fault, don’t be sad.”

“Boo hoo hoo...” Hu Rong’s crying became clearer, sobbing like a child who lost his candy.

Tripitaka comforted him a while, then suddenly recalled the golden-embroidered cap. “Wukong, where is the cap? It mustn’t be damaged by the fire!”

“No, Master!” Hu Rong instantly changed his expression, replying calmly. “That cap was given by Sister Guanyin herself—a divine object, indestructible!”

Tripitaka sighed, “Best to retrieve it soon, lest more trouble delay our journey.”

“Yes, Master, I understand!” Hu Rong replied, but his thoughts were already racing toward Black Wind Mountain twenty miles away. Last night, he’d already tracked the Black Bear Demon’s movements, and knowing his nature, the demon must have put on the golden-embroidered cap by now.

Heh, that cap is a weapon crafted by the Buddha himself. Once worn, it takes root—one recitation of the tightening spell and it causes unbearable agony, a torment even the once-invincible Sun Wukong could not endure.

Thus, Hu Rong’s plan was already half complete. The remaining task for the day was to head to Black Wind Cave—and recruit a new little brother.